#then he has to move into an abandoned building with the person who stabbed and robbed him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archangelofzion · 3 months

Text

Till Death

{TWD fanfiction}

Summary: Daryl Dixon met Elaina in Atlanta a few months before Rick joined the group. Realizing she has more in common with him than most anyone he’s met he offers her to return to the Quarry with her where she begins to form a close bond with him and his brother Merle Dixon.

The city looked morbid in the cloudy light, the remnants of a storm still blocking the sun.

Wind crawled across the streets, sending garbage and leaves rolling along the abandoned sidewalks.

There was absolutely no one there... human life completely gone.

Daryl Dixon squinted as he looked down to the streets below, a backpack full of random supplies slung over one shoulder, his crossbow on the other as he scanned for danger, after a good sweep he saw nothing but an occasional pigeon and the abandoned city that gave off an eerie vibe. The walkers must have all been hiding from the light somewhere.

He walked across the roof and started climbing down the metal rungs of a rusted ladder on the side of the building, grunting softly with the weight on his back when he dropped to the ground, sweat ran down his temples, making his hair stick to his forehead in the heat.

He would've just kept walking, making it to get out of the city and head back to camp, the group was a bit much today, making him need a break, a chance to go and be in peace by himself while making use of the time getting supplies—maybe as an excuse. And without a word to his brother he'd mounted his bike and rode, letting his thoughts fly away in the wind until he found himself in the city known for its infestation, yet he still went in, alone, just one man with a few arrows and a hunting knife. He'd be fine, being alone had suited him well.

With a huff he looked and could see it was about midday, meaning he'd just barely make it back to camp before it got dark but only if he left now—

A clatter came from down the street behind him, and he ducked quickly into a corner to hide, the clatter was followed with a chorus of moans and snarls; walkers... then grunting, a person, someone live.

His brow furrowed and he jogged around the corner, looking around in search of who the walkers were after.

Then a scream rang out, a woman's scream.

Something strange clicked in him and before he knew it he was running around to the street, being met with a bit over a dozen walkers, all focused on something at the other side of the steeet, away from him, and from his vantage he could see that there was indeed a woman fighting for her life against the monsters, a spear crafted from a sharpened pole in her hands.

Daryl watched for a few more moments as she shook one off her leg, stabbing it in the face soon after, she whirled and did the same to three more, but they were boxing her in quickly. He had to snap himself out of his state of shock at actually seeing someone alive to finally start moving, but he'd never seen a woman like this before.

Yes, he'd seen plenty of women, and spent every day around Lori and Andrea and the others at camp, but none of them were even half like the one at the end of the street. Hell, if he didn't know any better he'd think his brother had been out in a females body, with the way she fought against the dead coming at her, animalistic and fiery.

Daryl ran and aimed his crossbow, just as another walker grabbed the woman's shoulders, pushing her down to the ground and lowering itself to bite, he let his arrow fly, and it tore straight through its face, making her gasp and jerk her head to look when it fell to the side.

She kicked another away, aiming her spear and striking another through the face, she spun around and tore a long dagger from a holster on her leg, stabbing one then another in just a few seconds.

Daryl aimed and shot two more through the heads, just as the woman had to spin around and stab one right before it bit the side of her face off there was another that grabbed her arm, he shot it right when it did.

With Daryl's last kill it left just the two of them standing in the street now, and for a few moments all he did was stand there and pant softly, watching as the woman stared at him in question and even suspicion, grabbing back her spear and sheathing her knife.

He walked closer and yanked an arrow from the skull of a walker, wiping it on his pant leg before returning it to its place under the crossbow.

"Who're you?" The woman finally asked, brow raised and her right hip jutted a little from her body as she held her spear like a staff in her left hand.

"The one who just saved your ass." He answered, jerking another arrow back.

"I had everything under control."

"Yeah, that ain't what that walker drooling down your face told me."

"Lookin' to rob me?" She asked, voice a little lower.

"Why would I risk my skin if I was just gonna turn around and mug ya?"

"Don't know if you got the memo but the world's gone to hell, people do crazy stuff now."

"I'll give you that. But I'll also give you crazy stuff like getting chased by a mob of geeks alone out here."

"I don't exactly see an armada with you." She gestured to him with a wave of her free hand.

"Well, that's 'cause I ain't the type who needs someone to take care of them, sugar."

He had taken enough steps forward to where he was standing just a few feet from her, and able to get a better look at her features.

She was probably about five-feet-five or six inches, her dark brown hair had faded blue streaks and probably would have reached her breast if it weren't in the high ponytail she wore. Her skin was tanned, making her almond-shaped hazel-green eyes seem even more vibrant. And her narrow hourglass body was toned and lean. She was definitely tough before the apocalypse.

"Supply run?" She asked.

"Sort of. Why?"

She inclined her head to the left. "Big convenience store about three blocks away, usually ain't overrun. There's still most of the things there that haven't been scavenged."

He looked up in the direction she'd shown, squinting in the sunlight.

She cocked her head and watched him for a few more moments, then turned on her heel slowly, walking down the street.

"So that's it?" He called after her, but not too loudly. "You just walk away?"

She looked over her shoulder as she kept going. "I don't know you, you don't know me, and frankly you can't trust anyone these days, maybe I'll see you around."

She turned her head back in front of her and kept walking, Daryl stood there and watched, "Women..." he scoffed to himself, grabbing the strap of his crossbow, but found himself half smirking.

+++

She'd never been one to feel an actual urge to not leave someone, no, she'd always been the type to walk away.

Surviving in the city had been hell since the outbreak, alone for most of it, but even as she'd thought that was it and she'd die alone in these streets, torn to shreds by the undead. Alone, just like she'd always assumed her fate to be. But no, that man had come out of nowhere, he didn't know her, either, owed her nothing, and still, he helped.

She never even asked his name.

With a sigh she rubbed a hand over her face, looking back in the direction she'd came from, then started walking back.

+++

The sun was getting to the edge of the sky, and Daryl knew he should head back, but didn't want to leave.

His mind was deep in thought as he came around a street corner, and found himself face-to-face with a horde of walkers.

He jumped back and started running, only seven arrows and a knife wouldn't kill at least two dozen of those things.

Their hideous moans and snarls filled the air as they gave chase, some stumbling and dragging their limbs while others could run almost like a live person.

The next alleyway was a dead end, and he ran to try and scale the wall, three walkers caught up with him before he made it, he spun around to stab his knife into their faces, grabbing the wire fence and throwing himself over just as the rest caught up.

He grunted when his feet hit the pavement and heard the growling again, more walkers pouring out of the alley across from him. "Shit..." he spat, and ran across the open street, the walkers gaining on him as he jumped over the hood of an abandoned car and kept running. The late hours must have made them come out more, and now he could barely find a street that wasn't crawling with them as they all awkwardly bent their heads to the side when they smelt or saw him and all pursued in their shuffling, tripping manner.

He was panting hard when he came to another road block, an army vehicle pushed onto its side laying by the metal fence that must have been pushed out when the infestation happened, a noble pursuit of the military to keep the walkers contained.

Daryl glanced back and ducked behind the jeep, readying his crossbow, he threw himself back out and shot the first walker coming on him direct through the eye, grabbing out another arrow and shooting again, and again, until they were too close to waste time reloading and he snatched his knife, stabbing whatever he could.

There was no possible way for him to win against all of them, not alone... but if this was really how he was to die then he'd go down fighting, at least.

It looked bleak as they closed in, forcing him to fall back but was cornered. He threw himself back behind the jeep, huffing out a ragged breath, thinking of how infuriated his brother would be to find out he'd gone into the city alone and gotten killed...

A loud bang sounded from down the street, and the walkers turned to look, Daryl did the same, and cursed under his breath when he saw the woman from earlier at the end of the street, gun in hand pointed at the air. "Over here you filthy bastards!" She called to them, and they all started in her direction but a few, which Daryl snapped out of his staring and impaled with his knife.

The woman stood there until they got closer, and then she ran and jumped into a truck bed by a building, jumping to the roof next and running along it. She leapt down and shot two walkers, running to Daryl.

"Follow me!" She said to him as she ran past, shooting behind her a few more times.

"Ya wanna make 'em all come when they hear that!?" Daryl snapped at her, but she ignored him, grabbing his arm and pushing him towards a ladder, she climbed up first with him behind her, getting to the rooftop and safety.

Daryl peered below and saw the walkers gathering into the street below, looking around in search of their escaped meal.

"That was the craziest shit I have ever seen." He turned and said, panting between words.

She flipped her hair from her face, panting hard. "Now we're even." She breathed, hands braced on her knees. "Now keep your dumb ass outta trouble."

"Even?" He jerked his head back, "Thought you 'had everything under control' and I did nothing?"

"Well, I reconsidered, and maybe I didn't have my blade in that one's face first, or maybe your arrow went through at the same time." She lifted herself up, smirking cockily.

Daryl scoffed. "Yeah, whatever, he slid his crossbow back over his shoulder. "You were followin' me?"

"No, observing, and I observed you were about to be walker chow."

"Is observin' your word for stalking?"

"Nah," she walked along the rooftop, starting to climb down on the opposite side above an empty street. "I meant what I said."

Daryl stood there in silence for a few moments, just watching her, he couldn't seem to figure her out. "You live out here alone?"

"I do now."

"Kinda rough terrain..."

"I manage." She paused on the ladder, looking up to him. "You live here?"

"Nah, I got a camp with my brother."

"How far?"

"I dunno, few miles into the mountain."

She shook her head, "It'll be dark soon, more of the freaks roam when the sun goes down, come with me." She inclined her head backwards and climbed down, Daryl hesitated but went down behind her.

"Come with you where?"

"Back to my place, you head into the dark now and you'll be eaten alive."

He got to the bottom of the ladder and looked at her, still trying to piece this woman together. "I never got your name."

She put her lips in a thin line and slowly let them split into a little smile. "Elaina."

"Elaina..." he tested it out, the name going easily from his mouth. He grabbed the strap of his crossbow and nodded his head once. "Daryl Dixon."

She stared him down for a few moments before smiling broadly, an airy, almost silent laugh coming from her as she turned around.

"What's so funny?" He asked as he followed her.

"Nothing," her smile didn't waver. "I just usually try to guess what peoples names are before they tell me and I was extremely wrong with you."

"Oh yeah? And what names were you thinkin'?" He found himself smirking as he caught up to her, looking down to watch her as they walked.

"I'll never tell." Elaina laughed under her breath again and he let it go.

+++

Elaina led him a few blocks into the city, the sun had finally disappeared before she looked around and jogged across an empty street, only a couple of walkers were dragging themselves along the street across from them.

She jerked her head upwards to show him to follow her up the homemade ladder on the side of the building, once he did she was pushing a few things away from a metal door in the side and opening it, waving for him to walk in first before she shut the door behind them, shoving a board through the handle on the other side.

"Can't make too much noise up here or it'll attract them, at night the street below is flooded.

Daryl nodded and leaned over a little to look through the dirty window at the street below. Elaina walked over and pulled the drapes to cover the glass, then turned on a few lights.

"You lived here before the outbreak?" He asked.

"Not in this place, but I've lived in the city all my life."

"Always been alone?"

She cocked her head as she rummaged through a pile of clothes. "Depends on how you look at it. If daddy wasn't finding a reason to pull out his belt he was wasted somewhere, and momma was off screwing with whatever rich guy she liked that week."

Daryl nodded as if he understood. "Siblings?"

"One. My mom's kid, she hated me, only because I didn't put up with her bullshit. Once this all happened she realized I knew how to survive while she didn't. I sucked it up and looked out for her."

"So, what happened to her?" His voice was soft, though his rasp still played at it.

Elaina shrugged and pulled out a fresh shirt, tossing it onto a sleeping bag on the floor, then she turned, kneeled down and started going through a box on the floor. "We got into a fight one day, apparently our situation wasn't ideal for her... she stormed off and got bit. Had to put her down."

Daryl's eyes flickered. "I'm sorry."

Elaina just sighed, pulling a water bottle out of the box. "Yeah, well now you know I'm alone and where I live, tell anyone and I'll have to do the same to you. Got it?" She tossed him one of the waters and he caught it one-handed.

"Yes, ma'am."

She ran her tongue over her lip, a tiny smile playing at it. "You can stay the night, but I don't have any food here right now." She reached down and picked a rolled sleeping bag off the floor, tossing it to him. "Here,"

It hit the floor at his feet and he nodded, setting his crossbow down with his backpack.

Elaina grabbed the shirt she'd found and stepped into the tiny side room, he could see her shadow as she changed, but he looked away and dug into his pack.

When she came back out her hair was down, falling around her face in soft waves, she said nothing as she sat down in her spot, rubbing a cloth over her leg.

"You hurt?" He asked.

"This is from last week..." she mumbled, and even though he tried to look all he could see was a half-scabbed wound on her leg.

"Hey," he got her attention before tossing something to her.

Elaina raised an eyebrow but caught it anyways, looking down into her hand, seeing he'd tossed her handkerchief with a few strips of dried meat inside. "You have enough?" She asked quietly.

"Plenty at camp. You need it."

She hesitated for a few moments, and Daryl thought maybe she'd toss it back, insisting she didn't need his help, but was caught off guard when she softly thanked him, having some of the food while trying not to show how hungry she really was.

They didn't talk before trying to fall asleep, but Daryl watched her for a while, unable to sleep himself, but noticing that she flinched a lot, if a walker noise came from below that was just a little too loud, he heard her breath hitch and her hand jerk. Even though she played as someone who feared nothing, a cocky and arrogant woman who wanted to fend for herself, he knew there was something else there.

+++

It was probably four in the morning when Daryl's eyes snapped open to the sound of groaning wood, like something scraping a level below. He sat up and squinted into the apartment in the dark, Elaina was still asleep, curled up into the corner.

He stood and went to the window, seeing the street was still infested, but then there was another scrape from outside the door.

He walked to it quietly and heard the snuffling of a walker outside, then eased himself over to Elaina's sleeping form, crouching down and slowly putting his hand over her mouth, hoping she wouldn't lash out.

Elaina woke almost instantly, her eyes widening at the broad hand on her face, she raised her hand to strike, but Daryl quickly caught it, and she looked up at him, questioning and surprised.

He put his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet, then pointed at the door when she nodded, removing his hand from her mouth.

"Just gotta wait it out." She whispered.

"How'd it get up here?"

"There's a stairway on the other side, I can't always keep it blocked but sometimes the barricade falls out."

He didn't take his eyes off the door, the handle rattling as a frustrated growl came from the other side.

He did glance down once, though, and he saw her chest twitching from her rapidly beating heart.

So she was truly scared of walkers? But wasn't everyone.

More thumping came from the side of the wall, and both of them snapped their attention to the windows, seeing the shadow of crouched figures shuffling by it from outside.

"They're on the catwalk..." Elaina hissed.

"Is there a back entrance?"

"Yes?"

"Blocked?"

"Mostly..."

"This ever happened before?"

"No, actually, they've never gotten to the catwalk, only the door."

Daryl straightened and picked up his crossbow, setting an arrow to be ready to shoot.

A hand suddenly slapped against the window, a walker pressing close to it and snarling as it smashed its rotting teeth into the glass, growling at the sight of live flesh.

Elaina gasped as Daryl aimed his weapon, the rattling on the door getting louder as the sound of more dragging footsteps came from outside.

"We need to get outta here..." Daryl mumbled, sweat beading on his forehead as he swung his bow back and forth between the door and window, backing away.

"I have nowhere else to go," Elaina answered, standing with her spear in one hand, a dagger in her other.

The walker outside threw both hands against the window, two more joined it and the glass spiderwebbed.

"Shit." Elaina gasped, backing up farther.

"You could come back to my camp," Daryl glanced at her to say.

"Your camp?"

"Ya got better options?" He half-snapped.

The sound from the door got louder and she pointed her spear at it instinctively.

Daryl spun around and grabbed her shoulder. "Look, I know you got this ego or something that won't let you trust no one but you're gonna have to get over it for once if you wanna get out of here." He unhanded her and took a step back. "I wanna live just as much as you do. Now you're just gonna have to trust me."

Elaina bit her lip hard, staring him down, something about the desperation in his sky-blue eyes and the way he kept shifting his weight made her believe maybe he wouldn't betray her...

"Fine." She whispered. "Alright."

Daryl nodded, still aiming his crossbow at the window. "We ain't got long till them bastards break through, hurry up and grab a few useful things."

She dropped to her knees and snatched up a bag, tossing in some supplies and clothes, then rolled her sleeping bag and strapped it to the bottom. She grabbed Daryl's bag and handed it to him, he took it without looking and started backing into the other room. Elaina followed.

"Where does this lead?" He asked, pointing to the window.

"Out to the roof. We should be able to fit, but it's a narrow path."

"Better than that one." He put his weapon on his back and threw it open, crawling through.

Elaina followed and he grabbed her hand, pulling her to the tiny roof space outside.

Daryl grabbed the wall beside them and started walking, trying not the focus on the walkers shuffling around on the street two levels below.

"Be a horrible way to go, huh?" Daryl mumbled, Elaina glared at him over her shoulder, gasping through her nose when her footing faltered, he pulled her closer to the wall by her shoulder with a strong grip.

They made it to the end of the roof and Elaina jumped down, Daryl close behind. Only a few seconds passed before the rising noise of walker moans came through the street, making the pair break back into a run for the city's end.

"Where are we going?" She gasped as Daryl jumped the fence, waiting for her for a moment before running again.

"My bike's out a little this way, we'll head to the camp from there. Should get there before noon."

His bike, as he said, sat hidden in the brush just outside the city, wisely, he hadn't taken it through the infested streets.

Elaina spun around from where Daryl toed the kickstand up towards the open path behind them, walkers emerging from the trees and a split in the wire fence.

"Elaina, let's go!" Daryl called to her, swinging a leg over the seat. With his thick rasp and accent, it sounded like he'd called her Laina, or maybe he'd meant to say it, she didn't know, but also didn't mind. She hurried to get on, hesitating as she'd never rode before. "Hold on," he ordered, and she held his waist tentatively as he revved the engine, sending them away from the walkers and up the dirt path.

She looked back, hair flying in the wind, to her old home, then subconsciously squeezed Daryl tighter.

"You alright back there?" He asked over the noise.

"Yeah," she closed her eyes against the bite of the wind. "Just... never thought I'd get outta there."

Daryl squinted, pondering her words just a bit, but said nothing, trying to ignore the fact that he had just brought someone—a woman, at that—under his care.

+++

They reached the camp just as the sun was high, like Daryl had said. The bike grumbling up the path as he put his feet down for balance as it slowed to a stop.

Elaina stepped off, pulling her backpack tight as she looked around, a few different people were watching from around the camp, but only one man approached them. He looked a bit older than Daryl, but shared the same icy blue eyes. His gait was the same as well, only he was more muscular, wider set than Daryl and seemed like he wasn't just a regular city-dweller like most of the people around.

"Daryl, where the hell you been, boy?" His voice was just as rasped, and it clicked that he must have been the older brother Daryl talked about.

"Just ridin'," Daryl mumbled, tossing his hand out in front of him as he pulled his crossbow strap with his other. "Needed to get away from all this."

"Could've had the decency to tell me where you were headed..." his brother stepped closer, disapproval in his gaze.

"Well, I'm back now, ain't I?" Daryl snapped, shifting in his feet. "Anyways, I brought someone," he gestured to Elaina, and she stepped forward, hands in her back pockets. "'Laina, this is my brother, Merle." he nodded from each of them.

Elaina said nothing, just waited as Merle seemed to scan her with those blue eyes of his. "Damn, little brother, ya run off alone and bring back a woman..." Merle laughed a little, "Pretty good catch," he nodded at her, running his tongue along his teeth quickly. "You'll be safe here, 'least on my end, sugar."

Flirt.

Elaina huffed but gave a grin. "That's what he said."

Daryl pointed towards a white RV, "Others are right over there," A little fire pit was set up near it, clothes hung on lines and she saw a few children playing on top of a cooler as a table. "Maybe go check 'em out?"

Merle scoffed but said nothing, turning to walk back towards the tent she could only assume him and Daryl shared, it was pitched far from the rest of the campers.

Elaina nodded. "Where will you be?"

"Gotta hunt." He mumbled, inclining his head where Merle had went. "Just be over there."

She nodded again, taking her hands from her pockets to walk towards the other people.

A young Asian man was the first to notice her, standing instantly as she approached, with a better look, she figured he couldn't have been older than twenty-something.

"Uh... hey..." Elaina said awkwardly, extending her hand. "I'm Elaina."

He stared for a moment, then shook it off. "Oh, uh, Glenn. Daryl brought you here?"

She nodded.

"You're from the city?"

"Yeah, there... an issue?"

He shook his head quickly. "Uh, no, just not used to strangers— You, uh, might wanna check in with Shane if you're trying to stay."

"He the leader here?"

"Self-appointed."

"Mind showing me around?"

He scratched the hair coming from under his cap, squinting in the sun. "Sure..."

She followed Glenn around to where the kids were playing, a few women stood around them. "Guys, this is Elaina," he said, still seeming on edge. "She just got here today, Elaina, this is Lori, Carol, Andrea and Jacqui."

The one he'd addressed as Carol shrunk back a little, her arms crossed in front of her, but a small, timid-yet-kind smile was on her lips.

Lori was the first to approach her. "You find this place yourself?"

"No, Daryl brought me."

"You're with the Dixons?" Andrea almost scoffed their name, frowning.

"Is that an issue?" Elaina felt herself her defensive, so far, Merle and Daryl hadn't done anything to make her feel negatively about them, so she couldn't understand why the fact that Daryl brought her to camp made everyone so uncomfortable.

Andrea said nothing, just looked away.

"It's just that we're not used to strangers." Lori explained. "But I'm sure we can compensate for you, too."

"Who's this?"

Elaina turned to see an old man and a middle-aged man walking from the RV, the older of the two had his eyes on her, being the one to ask.

Glenn looked like he was sick of introducing everyone but waved his hand from each of the three. "Dale, Jim, this is Elaina... She's new."

Dale didn't seem bothered at all, in fact he came right up to her, offering a hand. "Nice to meet you, we haven't had anyone new for a while now."

She smiled at him, genuinely. "So I hear."

"You have a place to stay?"

"I'll make do, Daryl and I just came from the city."

He made a knowing face and put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, you're welcome to stay in the RV if you don't have a tent, there's plenty of room."

Andrea dipped her head down to give him a look, as if she wanted to ask him if he was crazy, but he didn't say anything.

Elaina, however, noticed the look and didn't want to impose on that. "That's very generous, but... I'm gonna talk to the Dixons first."

She felt the ripple of distaste go from the others, and knew they were each silently judging her. Not that she cared.

Without dismissal, she walked away, sitting down beneath a tree and digging in her backpack for a water, she found a near-empty bottle and downed the contents, sighing before placing the plastic back in her bag.

She heard soft footsteps and looked up, Carol was approaching softly, passing her a plastic cup. "Thought you could use this." Her voice was gentle.

Elaina nodded her thanks, taking it gingerly. Carol smiled softly before leaving.

Even if Elaina knew she'd landed herself in the category of the Dixons—the black sheep of this group—she didn't care. If the prejudice of the others would keep up she knew she could ignore it, but Dale and Carol were different towards her. She appreciated it.

She could see Daryl and Merle talking a bit away, sharpening knives over their laps, but her attention snapped away when boots crunched in the rock behind her, making her stand instantly.

She turned to find a man at least a foot taller than her, a police cap on his head and a gun strapped to his back. He was running his eyes over her, a half-scowl on his chiseled face.

She knew a man trying to be in charge when she saw one—this was Shane.

"Glenn said you just came on in here?" He asked. His voice was a drawled southern accent, not the rasp like the Dixons, but a near-slur.

"Daryl brought me." She was getting tired of explaining, but he seemed... almost angry that she was here, and she wondered what would happen if he tried to make her leave.

"Daryl brought you." He repeated, like Andrea, he practically scoffed it. "And since when has he had the right to bring whoever he wants..?" He muttered the last part, hands on his hips as he stepped around her, she turned with him.

"I'm sorry," Elaina put her hand up and closed her eyes briefly. "What the hell is everyone's problem with Daryl? The Dixons—at that?"

"Well, bein' new here I don't expect you to understand." Shane cocked his head, smugness in his voice.

"Then help me to." She barely parted her teeth to speak. "And stop circling me, damn it you're like a vulture." She swatted her hand out, trying to make him back up, feeling cornered by the tree.

"Look—what was your name again? Elaina?"

"Hmm." She pressed her lips together in a sarcastic smile.

"I got enough issues as it is with those brothers always causing a ruckus, can't exactly kick 'em out now... and the last thing I need is to add another problem, especially not some mouthy city girl."

She raised her brow. "Have I caused some issue for you and Andrea just by simply existing?"

"We weren't exactly in the position to take more on than we already have. Another mouth to feed, life to protect—"

"I'm good taking care of myself, thank you."

"Uh-huh. Just, look; you gonna stay here you're gonna shape up, pull your weight, and don't cause me any issues, I ain't gonna play around with you."

"You don't know me, I get it, but I don't take orders from you."

Shane took a step forward, moving his head to the side and looking down at her, trying his best to intimidate. Elaina backed her face away, clenching her jaw. "You're gonna do exactly as I say, or I will have your ass thrown back to Atlanta faster than—"

"Hey, problem here?"

He was cut short by Daryl's half-raised voice behind him. Elaina looked over Shane's shoulder to see the archer walking quickly to get to them, purposely bumping shoulders with the cop to make him back off.

"No, no issue." Shane said. "Just introducing myself to our new camper here."

Daryl stepped between them. "Ya did it. Now back up. Sure you're busy."

Shane smirked. "Yeah." He ran his bottom lip through his teeth, glaring at Elaina, Daryl, then walked away.

She breathed in deep but silent when he was gone. "So..." she sighed. "That's Shane."

"Yep." Daryl had no hint of admiration for the cop. "Bastard had a badge on when he showed up, thinks he can run everything 'cause of it."

He started walking back to his tent, and she followed. "I'm guessing I know who didn't fall under that?" She smiled knowingly. There was no way him and Merle would be taking orders from him. She felt she was going to be in the same category with them.

"So, ya met the cop." Merle said from where he was loading his rifle. "Ain't he a peach."

Elaina scoffed in agreement.

"I wouldn't give him my time," Merle added, but she already figured he didn't acknowledge Shane or many of the others. "Son of a bitch is probably more pissed about the fact that he don't see himself having a chance at gettin' in your pants than that you're here."

She chuckled in disgust, actually shuddering at the thought. "Well, he'd be right about one thing."

Daryl looked over his shoulder at her, but said nothing.

"You just let me know if you need help when it comes to old Shane, sweetheart," Merle gave her a flirty half-smile. "I'll take care of it."

She blushed slightly, looking away. Daryl's gaze became hard before it faltered away, and she wondered if her reaction to his brother upset him.

"You going hunting?" Elaina asked.

Daryl grunted a responding yes.

"Can I come along?"

The brothers looked at each other, Daryl seemed to be waiting for Merle's okay, but he just shrugged and said, "Never had a lady join us." He stood, tossing his rifle over his shoulder. "If you can hold your own, sure. But we ain't waiting around if you break a nail or something."

She grinned at him cockily. "It'll be me waiting for you."

That got a laugh from him, just a small thing, but Daryl was smirking too, silently getting his weapon and the two started walking, Daryl motioned for her to follow and she did.

#Daryl Dixon #Twd #daryl fanfiction #Merle Dixon #shane walsh #Carl grimes #carol peletier #dale horvath #lori grimes #Till Death

11 notes · View notes

rogueonestan · 1 year

Text

from beginning to end - prologue

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: the relationship you have with joel is a long and complicated one. it started as only working on a single job together, but it eventually blossomed into something more. on one lazy afternoon, you reflect on the time you spent together, the good and the ugly.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is a prologue to a short series i’ve been working for the past two weeks and i’m excited to finally be publishing it! the first part will probably be up within the next few days.

This new relationship with Joel is in a whole new territory. You haven’t gotten used to it just yet. Never in a million years did you imagine yourself to be this happy. When you first met him, the last thing you ever expected was to move in with him two years later, let alone, fall in love with him.

When you first met, it was purely by accident. You had stumbled across his path in an abandoned building within the QZ, waiting for a contact of yours, when he had shown up. You both were on edge, not knowing the other was the person you were supposed to meet. Both of your weapons were drawn. The moment all hell was about to break loose, is when a mutual contact of yours showed up- Tess. She was the reason why neither of you shot the other dead.

Never would you have imagined the man who pulled a gun on you in that disgusting, dusty room would be the same man you imagined a future with.

Since the outbreak began over fifteen years ago, you never imagined (or allowed) yourself to be happy. You never put the amount of faith in someone as you have in Joel. The more you trust someone, the more it’ll hurt when they ultimately betray you.

But not with Joel.

You know Joel would rather put himself through hell and back just to make sure you didn’t get hurt. It’s not often he would do that for another person. There’s only a handful of people on this Earth he would do that for, and the latest person he would do that for is you. When he met you that afternoon, he thought the only time he would see you would be the job Tess had both recommended you for. Oh, how wrong he would be.

Truth be honest, he found you infuriating at first during the beginning of your relationship. You would be constantly asking him questions, or talking almost nonstop to fill the silence in the air.

That was the first major difference between the two of you. He grew to love the silence that would linger whenever he would travel with Tess beyond the walls of the QZ, but traveling with you was the complete opposite. It was rare when there was silence, where you could hear the nearby ambience.

It irritated Joel at first. All he wanted to do was to get the job done and get back to Boston as soon as possible, but the thing that aggravated him the most about you eventually became one of the first things that made him fall in love with you. It’s not often that he meets someone else who has such opposing views on the world as him, even when that person has lost so much already.

The way Joel sees the world is so much different than how you see it. He sees it in a much darker, grittier, way. For years, he always assumed the worst in others, believing they wanted something in return or they simply wanted something for their own benefit. He thought the moment he trusted them, they would just stab him in the back. He’s a pessimist. That tends to happen when everyone you love has been taken from you in such a brutal way- to see the darkness before the light.

You, on the other hand, see the light. You see the good in people over the bad. Even when they’ve left you with an unbearable betrayal, you still value their virtues over their flaws. The world has left you so much pain from the years since the outbreak began, a pain you never thought you would be able to overcome.

Every time another loss was brought upon you, it seemed like the grief would consume you, but you refuse to let it. The world has shown you its ugly side time and time again, but you refuse to let yourself cave into it.

Rather, you see the beauty inside of the ugly. It’s hard to do it at times, really hard on your bad days, but you refuse to see the world in such a negative way. You’re not naïve at the thought that there aren't bad people in the world, but managing to find at least one good thing in someone helps to fight the dark clouds that linger in your mind.

That’s something Joel struggles with. He always sees the bad over the good. He’s seen the real world and what it’s like. He’s aware of the selfish intentions of others, how they’re only looking out for themselves. He’s a realist. He doesn’t hold onto false hope in believing that humanity will get better in the near future. The hope of any kind of miracle or a vaccine is long gone, no matter how hard others try to make it happen. It’s simply hard to look at things in such a bright way when it seems like the world is just a deep pit of despair.

Something you have always admired about Joel is the way he looks at the world. Not in the sense that everything is awful and probably won’t get any better anytime soon, but in the way that he doesn’t shy away from the reality of the real world. It’s not perfect. It’s far from being perfect. People are selfish and their actions tend to reflect that- they will do anything in their power to get what they want, and that usually means killing innocent people.

But that doesn’t mean you lose hope when it comes to the sake of humanity. You continue to hold onto the hope that things will get better someday, probably during a time you’ve long been dead. It’ll be well past your time, you think to yourself. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

The one major flaw Joel in himself is the one you wished you had within yourself, and it was the first thing that made you fall in love with him- seeing the world as it is and not what you want it to be. He sees the world changing him for the worst, but you don’t see it that way. You see him as a brave, strong man willing to do anything and everything to protect those he loves- no matter the cost.

“What are you thinking about?” The sound of Joel’s voice traces you out of your thoughts.

The sensation of his fingers running themselves through your hair for a few minutes, then grazing random shapes across your exposed skin, then returning to running through your hair once again was enough to lure you to sleep. Just the feeling of the sun beaming in your eyes, the sound of the nearby ambiance, and being wrapped in your lover’s embrace was enough to do that, but the feather-like touches of Joel’s fingers would have been the final thing that would allow you to cave in and drift off, but the sound of his voice stops you from doing so.

“Nothing, I just, uh-“ You begin as you look up at Joel from your current position of laying on his lap as he rests against a tree. “I was just thinking about us.”

“Yeah?” He asks with the slightest smirk on his face. It’s a recent thing to refer to your relationship with Joel as being an ‘us,’ something more than ‘just friends’ or two people who sleep together. It’s a whole new territory for Joel, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit- to be referred to as ‘yours.’

“Yeah. I was thinking of the day we met.” You confess as a deep vibration rumbles from his chest. The sound of his laughter surges a warm feeling within your own belly.

“It’s hard to believe that was nearly two years ago.” He admits.

“I know, it seems like forever ago.” You hum in agreement.

Flashes of that day flood your mind. How things were immediately tense between the two of you, how it seemed like your newly blossomed relationship was beginning to crumble as soon as it began, then how things changed by a simple confession.

The start at the beginning.

#this series will probably be around 4 parts with an epilogue and im currently working on ch 2 #and the first ch is over 7k so she's a long one #my writing #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x female reader

44 notes · View notes

chipichopi · 11 months

Text

The Demon Rabbit Twins

The twins are a loyal Demon Hunters who lives hidden from the city of Megapolis.

An organization who is hidden from society, nobody knows about their existence and every hunter works only when the night appears, the bosses are the ones who makes the decisions and even talks for the ones who has to obey without questioning, aka all the workers they are many hunters working for them, human, demons, etc. They decided to make a variety so more chances for a successful mission will be granted.

The Rabbit Demon twins were founded abandoned when they were babies the ones of control had their doubts at first didn't accept, but, when they found them being just young creatures they make a hard decision to take care of then...just to experiment how a this new type of Demon they found can handle more Demons and see the results, trough practice and practice from the twins, the bosses and everyone in the organization were satisfied to finally have "little" change and accept those Demons so the twins can be around their targets with not to much trouble, although, thanks to this the twins couldn't have a decent childhood as they have been isolated from society for too long so they can be focused to be what they are actually.

The first twin, a Demon Rabbit girl called "Wen", white fur, long and black hair, red glowing eyes and her white & black uniform; Wen has the personality and description to be very polite and well behaved, the way she works it's kinda aggressive sometimes if the target gets too much stubborn and arrogant, she has her limits but even from that the girl will always maintains her composure with a cold gaze for everyone she meets at the beginning (or more like depending on the situation) but at the same time, since she doesn't usually comes out when the day it's around the city, Wen tends to change her personality completely and shows that little children inside who never had the chance to have fun so the girl makes sure to enjoy everything and look with more lively and sparkles eyes every small thing she saw (Wen will point to a pigeon or a single fall leave and say they are the most beautiful things on the world-) in other words, Wen really appreciate those little things on her life during break BUT with the condition of Always being disguised between people.

Her weapon; a red iron Crescent Moon Spear, it's shape helps to trap a target or enemy from their neck leaving it's head immobile and since they are trapped from the sharpness, a wrong move and their heads end up cut off, Wen makes sure of keeping it firmly but not as much to not kill immediately unless that's her decision to eliminate a target. The other side of the spear is a small black steel stake, which she can stab with it and activate electric shocks to immobilize, the spear has the ability to distant cut, she has to wave it hard enough to make a distant damage, more strong wave, more a red light from it will cut from a long distance, uses that ability either to clear a zone by cutting almost all the trees (or other objects) to find more quickly the enemy or if they are to much danger surrounding her.

As her animal nature, Wen can jump high enough to reach a tall building, normally that's how she moves around, jumping and jumping, her brother has the same movements both of them jumping along, doesn't have a strong sense to smell something or someone but her strong sense is being able to hear from long distance.

The second twin, a Demon Rabbit called "Su", white fur, short black hair, red glowing eyes and his white & black uniform; Su has the personality and description of being just like her sister, the two of them are almost the same outside and inside; but he's the most calm and patient during his work as a Hunter he gives more opportunities to his targets and surrender so he doesn't have to kill them (although the bosses would take that decision once they are on their hands) and to the enemies get out the way so he can continue his duty, but his time has a limit, end his patience and everything will turn black to the one who got on his way, Su is very polite and quiet, he never makes a sound when walking or jumping making someone hard to notice him; Su also dosen't go outside too much during his break, but when he meets the sun then he will take long and slowly walks around the city, instead of her sister he prefers to enjoy his time more relaxing to feel the wind and look at the sunny sky, but when it comes the food then he will ket out that child inside of him, being twins, Su also didn't get a childhood so he doesn't know all the foods Megapolis has to offer.

His weapons; two red iron Crescent Moon Chakram, has the abilities to activate electrified attacks so he throws them to his target, making an fast killing, he is the one who has the perfect aim, his Chakrams can make distantly cuts as well but he prefers to go straight to the enemy unless he has to clean the place with waving them at the same time, if he has the enough focus then will throw them flat & straight to do a boomerang and comes back to his hands.

Su is more faster and agile than his sister.

Wen and Su have good synchronization of movements and when speaking, sometimes saying and doing the same things at the same time.

The bosses uses the words "Family" on them so the Demon twins can blindly obey over manipulation, as a usual work the organization chooses the next targets and chooses the ideal hunters to strike.

I want to believe they hide during the Bull King and Spider Queen events just to not being knowing from the people And MK's gang, But the Lady Bone Demon was something they couldn't ignore as they help in a very "indirectly" way, so the organization wasn't in danger.

Wen and Su's ears and noses usually twitching even more when they have strong feelings, sadness or angry makes their ears fall and surprise & totally excitement makes them go up and not moving at all

(They can give the "blink motherf***!" Vibes, you just have to tell them blink at least once if they are going to stare you for too long)

Their stares can be misunderstanding as the first time someone can think their are gazing a prey...but they are just looking a racoon eating peanuts the twins can't miss such a wonderful show!

When it comes to a friendly action, they always help you to find the way, got lost? They know a way more shorter to get at your home safely so come on! They can also hold your hand and making sure you're not injured during the walk! Obviously, if you're comfortable with it, they are by your side like your personal guards until you made it and then the twinss bows and wishes you a "Good night".

Even if the organization are not a true family and just people of business, those two are the only family they have each other, a good and true brother and sister family.

The Demon Rabbit twins: Polite, Gently, Cold, Passive-aggressive, Innocents and Naives during day, Very curious, well behavior and of course Hunters.

I like to think they first meet MK during their job, maybe a short fight until it was all a misunderstood so they will leave him alone, but if the Target is also MK's enemy then they Glady help him and that's how slowly meet the other gang.

(That's all for now folks! I really wanted to give all their information! Also @yanderelmk Thank you for want to know my Oc's lore and info! I enjoyed writing this TTuTT I also love to meet everyone's Oc 💖💖💖)

#lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid oc #lmk oc #lego monkey kid #lmk mk #lmk lady bone demon #oc #original character #writing #wen and su #lego monkie kid oc

19 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 4 years

Text

Back to Bourbon Street

summary: When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 6.7k warnings: canon level violence, hurt!reader, poison, brink of death cuddling, angst with a happy ending

There is a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of the battlefield; a brief, impossible moment that allows Bucky to take hold of a peace he’s been missing for decades. The perfect storm of violence and adrenaline is one he’s familiar with, something he knows well enough to allow his mind to take a step back and give control to his instincts.

Left jab. Right hook. Kick. Swipe the leg. Shoot.

The sound of the chopper above is muffled. The shouts of the men rushing at him with weapons and malice are indistinguishable. His body moves of its own accord and this is what makes him untouchable. Even with the Winter Soldier buried to the deepest parts of his mind, Bucky finds a relief in letting go of the control, of allowing an untethered detachment to rise to the surface just long enough to get the job done.

Bodies in his wake, blood on his hands, and his mind elsewhere.

That is, until you come into view.

Elegant in your movements, exceptional in your ability, you’re teasing Sam on the coms as you duck under the swing of a mercenary and clip him on the chin on your way up. You’re laughing, bright enough that it carries the several feet away to where Bucky is in hand to hand with a combatant half his size.

He pauses, taken back by how clear your laugh comes through when the rest of the world seems muffled and distant. It’s not enough to give the scrawny opponent an advantage, because even as Bucky watches you with an awe and disbelief, his left arm snakes around the man’s throat and hurtles him fifty feet away with little effort.

Amongst enemy lines filled with bad guys and guns, amongst the blinding snowfall and the blistering wind, amongst blood staining crystalized white upon the frozen dirt, you capture the entirety of his focus. Clear as day. Spotlight down from the sky. A wonder to behold.

You catch his eye and for a moment his heart skips completely because you smile at him. A light breaking through a sea of shadows, wrinkling up by your eyes, a giggle in your chest, and Bucky’s knees nearly give out from under him.

You must notice the fluster burning hot on his cheeks and you start to laugh; that same beautifully, sweet sound that shouldn’t belong on a battlefield. He smiles back.

But the moment lasts longer than it should. It’s something too kind for the evil you’re surrounded with and it’s taken away in a matter of seconds when Bucky sees the sharp reflection of a blade flicker under the haze of sunlight.

His stomach drops as if he’s stepped off the edge of the cliff, as if he’s falling hundreds of feet into a dark ravine to the icy waters below, and he barely feels the sharp burn of a bullet as it skims his right shoulder.

“Y/n!” he screams, wasting no time in firing fatal shots to the men around him before he rushes towards you.

But he’s trudging through mud and quicksand and his limbs are fighting through the resistance of ocean currents. He’s trapped in a nightmare, he’s certain of it, because his body is failing him in the one place it’s not supposed to. Time slows down as he watches the flash of panic in your eyes.

He’s still a few feet away when the knife embeds itself in your stomach.

Something else takes over; maybe it's the Winter Soldier, maybe it’s something darker that has always resided inside of him, lying in wait, but his vision fills with red as he watches you clutch at the shoulders of your assailant, lips parted in shock, chest heaving as you glance down at the knife buried in your gut. A sickening smile curves up on the man’s face and he drops you to the ground.

Bucky only vaguely registers the bodies that fall around him as he empties his clip. He can't look at you now, not as blood starts to seep around your suit and drip into the snow, so he focuses the brunt of his tunnel vision to the man wielding the knife. The satisfied grin drops as he notices Bucky raise his weapon. It only takes one shot, but Bucky fires six.

By the time he reaches you, he’s skidding on his knees into the snow. It soaks into his suit and sends shivers into his spine in unpleasant memories of the ice, but he pays it little mind as he bends down to assess the damage. His hands hover over the blade, almost afraid to touch you, and he resides to keep the knife secure until he can safely remove it.

“Hey, Barnes,” you mutter weakly and it snaps Bucky from his trance. He looks up to see you smiling at him, though your eyes are fluttering shut. Your breathing is shallow.

“Don’t talk right now,” Bucky warns you because he can see the energy draining away. It’s happening too quick. The blade doesn’t appear as though it’s nicked any major arteries, and yet, you look as though it plunged straight through your heart.

You chuckle, though it’s faint and you wince in the effort. “Sick of my voice already?”

Bucky shakes his head, astounded how you can still tease him in your position. “You kidding me? Not a chance.”

He reaches up to press a finger to the coms to get ahold of someone, anyone, to get you airlifted out of here, only to find it slipped out of his ear in the struggle. A quick glance back behind him and he knows he’ll never find it amongst the snow. He clenches his jaw and tried not to let the panic show as he looks for yours.

“Lost mine, too,” you mumble, gesturing to the broken pieces in the snow beside you. One of your attackers must have hit you hard enough to dislodge it and slammed it under his heel to cause that much damage.

Bucky pulls in a deep breath, glancing up to the sky in search of Sam, only to find a dark cast of clouds carrying over. On the ground, dozens of mercenaries are engaged with the rest of the Shield team and more are piling out from the woodwork.

“I have to get you out of here,” Bucky resides. He doesn’t have a plan, but he knows it’s not safe where you are. He slips a hand under your knees, another around your back, and hoists you into his arms. He’s lucky the blade is small enough that it stays nestled in place as he carries you away from the field.

He tries not to think of what would happen if a mercenary caught up with him now. He was defenseless with you in his arms and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d sacrifice you to save himself.

The wind whips around the trees, snow stinging on his cheeks as it builds in the scruff on his cheeks. You curl into his neck as best you can and he knows it’s subconscious, that it doesn’t mean much more than you seeking out the warmth of his body, but it doesn’t stop the trace of a smile that pushes at his cheeks.

“Stay with me, alright?” he pleads, though he’s not sure you can hear him. It earns a tired hum in response.

A storm is approaching quickly judging by the dark overcast of clouds and the snow on his boots that inches up higher along his shins with every step. If the blade doesn’t kill you, the exposure will, and Bucky starts to pick up his pace.

The field is nothing but a distant haze by the time he reaches an unmarked dirt road. He must have walked miles with you in his arms, fading in and out of consciousness, waking you up every few paces when your eyes started to flutter closed. The relief is overwhelming when he spots a cabin at the end of the road, obstructed by trees and overgrown weeds. Abandoned.

“Almost there,” he tells you and you curl up tighter against him. A whine leaves your lips and he picks up the pace.

Bucky doesn’t bother with picking the lock and slams his foot to the most vulnerable angle of the door instead. It whips open to reveal an empty living room; dark, with cobwebs hanging in the corners and dust upon the mantle. He rushes inside to escape the painful sting of the wind and the snowfall as it piles outside the door. His footprints are already swept away in the impending storm.

“You’re alright, hold on,” Bucky mumbles, blindly searching around the room until he can lower you onto the couch. He wipes away as much of the dust as he can as he eases you against the cushions. Your face scrunches up in pain and he knows how hard you’re trying to hide it from him.

He brushes a hand over your forehead and it startles him when he finds it burning hot. He doesn't have a lot of time.

“I’ll be right back.”

“No! Wait--”

He freezes, stunned when he hears your voice so clearly. Your hand wraps at his wrist, clenching so tight it would have hurt if it wasn’t constructed of solid metal. When he meets your eye, he finds a pain stab straight through his chest, because he’s become so used to your light and joy and charm that the fear etched into your features ruins him completely.

“Bucky, don’t go.”

His heart splinters.

“I need to find a first aid kit. I’ve got to clean that wound before it gets infected,” he explains as gently as he can, sinking down to his knees beside you. You nod at his words, but you’re unconvinced.

“I won’t leave you,” he adds with a little more conviction.

His relationship to you is complicated; filled with teasing smiles and playful tension in the sparring ring, late night talks and comfortable silence. You were the first person he trusted in Shield outside of Steve and Sam, the first to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the first to accept him completely and entirely as the man he is, not who he was in his youth or what Hydra made him to be. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t expect him to be anything he wasn’t.

He cares for you and he knows, at least on some level, you must care for him, too. He can't imagine that anyone would be as sweet as you are with him if you didn’t. There’s too much violence to overlook, too much evil ingrained into his veins. You don’t seem to mind and Bucky wonders most days if you’re not simply an angel sent from heaven itself with the extent of absolution you grant to him.

So it’s not a question. There’s no second guessing. He won’t leave you.

“I’ll be right back,” he presses again, eyes flickering to the knife in your side. “I promise.”

You nod, letting go of his wrist, but he can tell you’re still afraid. He recognizes it in himself, how he’s felt as though if he closed his eyes for even a second, he might convince himself it was all a dream and he’ll wake up right back in Hydra’s cell. He realizes then that you’re wondering if Bucky steps out of your view, he might disappear entirely and you’ll be alone, facing the impending darkness on your own.

“Hey, remember that summer in New Orleans?” Bucky starts, hoping to ease your panic through the sound of his voice as he slips from the room. “Sam was walking around Bourbon Street with a dozen beaded necklaces and tripping over his own feet?”

Bucky can vaguely hear you chuckle weakly from the living room as he rummages through the drawers in the bathroom.

He continues. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam that wasted before. I had to carry him up three flights of stairs to his room.”

Shifting through old toothpaste containers, wash rags, makeup brushes, Bucky knelt down under the sink in search of anything he can use. He grabs the clean towels and an ace bandage hidden behind the pipes and moves onto the first bedroom. He still needs something to close the wound.

“Idiot passed out on me before midnight,” Bucky calls out to the living room, stealing a glance at you to make sure your eyes were still open. You smile at him, faded and faint, but he continues on. “You called when we didn’t show up to the bar, remember? You didn’t think you could keep up with Natalia’s tolerance and you wanted to push some of your drinks off on me.”

Bucky is surprised when his lips curve up into a smile at the memory. It was the first time anyone managed to convince him to stay a few days passed the scheduled mission. He always had such a hard time saying no to you.

“Think that might have been the first night I went out dancing since the forties. It was a little different than what I was used to but the music had the same soul to it,” Bucky continues as he searches under the bed, through the closet, shoving aside old clothes and shoe boxes. He can feel the panic rising, though he keeps his voice as calm as he can manage. His hands are trembling until he finds a small white box tucked into the back corner. Red cross on the top.

It’s missing a few pieces inside but it’s enough. Relief surges through him and Bucky makes his way back out to the living room.

“Don’t know if I would have let anyone else drag me away from the bar long enough to get a whole song out of me,” Bucky says as he holds up the kit for you to see and quickly moves to the kitchen to wash his hands.

“You’re a good dancer, Barnes,” you mutter out feebly, smiling fondly at the memory.

It’s a good memory, he thinks. A little faded with time, but he can still recall how you felt pressed against his chest, how his left nestled along the small of your back, his right intertwined with yours. Slow movements, swaying gently to the soft strum of the guitar.

Bucky smiles backs at you, pauses for just a moment to memorize the way your lips curve up so beautifully into your cheeks before he turns to the sink to wash his hands. The water comes out brown for the first few seconds before it clears up. He washes his hands quickly and gathers a bucket of water before he makes his way back to you.

As he kneels down at your side, he tries to mask the flash of panic that courses through him as he catches sight of the blood seeped into the couch under your back and the sweat dripping down your temples. It’s wet in your hair and you don’t seem to be in much pain anymore. Just tired. Your eyelids fall heavy.

“Hey,” Bucky calls sharply, shaking your shoulder a little harsher than he intended. Your eyes snap open. “You need to stay awake for me, alright? You know I’m lousy at this stuff. Need you to make sure I’m doing it right.”

You laugh, though Bucky can tell it’s forced. You both know he’s lying. He’d tended to wounds of his own far worse than this before. But Bucky doesn’t care about causing himself pain. He powers through it, uses it as a means of strength. He knows how badly this will hurt you and he hesitates as he holds a pair of scissors to your suit.

“I trust you,” you say so quietly Bucky isn’t certain he even heard it. You nod at him.

Bucky takes a deep breath as he cuts away at your suit and removes the fabric away from the wound.

“It’s going to bleed a lot,” he warns. “Don’t let it scare you.”

You nod, staring up at the ceiling as you try to prepare yourself.

Bucky doesn’t say anything else, because he knows it will make this harder. Your chest rises a little quicker, hands clench into fists, and it takes nearly everything Bucky has not to hold your hand instead of the hilt of the knife.

It happens quickly. He pulls the knife from your stomach in one fluid motion. You gasp at the sudden sensation, a cry in your voice as you bite down on your fist to keep yourself from screaming, and Bucky presses a towel to your side to absorb the gush of blood and it drenches the cloth in a matter of seconds.

He removes it in favor of a clean one and drops the bloodied rag onto the floor. The next towel doesn’t turn red as quickly and Buck begins to exhale a sigh of relief. The blood flow is slowing down. It’s a good sign. It’ll give him the chance to clean the wound and stitch you up enough to keep you together until rescue shows up.

It takes a while before Bucky dares to lift the cloth. It’s heavy in his hands and dripping with blood, but the wound doesn’t appear to be freshly bleeding. Bucky gets to work, humming quietly to himself as he cleans the wound as best he can. He can feel your eyes on him, watching as he tends to the wound and mumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t mind. You’re awake. It's all that matters to him.

“You really need to do that?” you ask nervously as Bucky begins to thread a needle.

Bucky shrugs. “There’s a stapler in the office if you prefer that?”

You laugh, enough to cause a bit of blood to seep out from the cleaned wound and Bucky presses a hand to your stomach to stop the bleeding.

“Hey! Don’t mess with my work!” he teases, thankful for a moment where you feel more like yourself than you had since he picked you from the snowbank on the battlefield. You nod, trying to contain your smile, though its weak and fading.

“My apologies, Sergeant Barnes.”

“That’s Dr. Barnes to you,” Bucky quips back, distracting you long enough to slip the thread through your skin. You wince, hand gripping in tight to the straps on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” you mutter out tensely. “What decade did you get your medical degree in, Doctor? Feels pretty amateur from where I’m sitting.”

“You should be nicer to me, doll. I’m the one with the needle in my hand,” Bucky smirks. Only two more threads to go before the wound is closed and you’re taking it like a champ. Pride swells in his chest and he has the urge to kiss you, but quickly pushes the feeling down.

“Imagine how I must feel,” you scoff playfully, exhaling a heavy breath of relief as Bucky sits back and cuts the thread.

Bucky grins, brushing a clean cloth over the surface to wipe away the excess blood. “You did good. Try to get some rest now, alright? I’ll be here.”

He lifts a blanket up over your body and lets it lay against your chest. You smile at him again and he’s certain it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He stands to clean up the mess around the couch when your hand catches his.

“Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, rub your thumb over his wrist, something so tender and loving that it nearly jolts his heart straight from his chest.

“Anytime, doll,” he replies as even as his voice will let him. By the time he finishes cleaning the bloodied rags and rinsing the red stains from his hands, you’ve already fallen asleep.

Bucky takes his time as he gathers a few stray blankets and lays them down on the floor beside the couch. He knows there’s a room with a decent bed just a few feet down the hall but he meant what he promised you. He wasn’t going to leave your side.

So, he lays down on the hardwoods, rests a pillow under his head, and stars up at the ceiling; content to listen to the soft sounds of your breathing until they too lull him to sleep.

***

He wakes abruptly a few hours later. It’s dark outside, nearly pitch black in the cabin, and Bucky rubs his hands over his tired eyes before he realizes what woke him up.

Quiet whimpers above him, muffled, pained. You’re crying.

Bucky jolts up in a panic. He kneels beside you to find you curled up on your side, knees tucked to your stomach, tears streaming down your cheeks. You're sweating again, and it drenches into your hair.

“Y/n?” Bucky begs, hands hovering over you, terrified to make it worse. “Y/n, talk to me.”

“It hurts,” you cry, barely able to mutter the words out. “It hurts... bad. S-Somethings wrong.”

Bucky nods, rushing up to the fireplace to give some light. It takes him longer than it should and he nearly shouts out in frustration before it sparks and a flame bursts onto the wood. It’s a faint flicker, but it’s enough.

“Let me see,” he requests, and you release the blanket to let Bucky's slide it off of you. He helps guide you to lay flat on the couch and he knows how much it hurts you because you’ve bitten down so hard on your lip, it’s bleeding. You choke back a cry.

“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky soothes, running a hand down your arm to find you shaking so badly it trembles right into his palm. You’re fully sobbing as he tries to pry your hands away from the wound. “I’m so sorry, but you have to let me see it, honey. Come on now. It’s alright.”

You pull your hands away, clutching them tight into the couch cushions and it's then that Bucky sees the series of large, angry, purple veins extending from the wound. Jagged lines protruding out across your stomach, stretching up towards your chest to your heart.

Bucky can’t find his breath as he stumbles back. On the ground at his feet, the faint flicker of the knife catches his eye in the dim light of the fire behind him, and he bends down to pick it up. On its surface, hardly visible, is a sticky thin substance; green in color, bitter in its stench. Poison.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

Bucky’s eyes snap up to you as the knife slips from his hand. It clashes against the hardwoods and echoes through the painful silence in the cabin, only obstructed by the muffled whistle of the wind outside and your faint attempts to stifle the sob etching its way through your throat.

“No,” Bucky replies quickly, though his voice wavers. You’re unconvinced as tears slip past your eyes and you drop his gaze in favor of the ceiling tiles.

“No,” he tries again, firmer as he kneels by your side. He runs a hand over your forehead to brush away the sweat, soothes his palm against your face and traces the line of your cheekbone until you dare to meet his eye again. “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not letting you die today; you hear me? You’re going to be just fine.”

“Bucky...”

“You’re going to be fine,” he says again, determined. “Starks probably got a whole branch of the military searching for you by now. We both know how much of a soft spot he’s got for you. Hell, I’m lucky you’re the one I’m MIA with. Stark wouldn’t waste an AI suit on tracking me down. But you? Come on. He won’t sleep until you’re home safe.”

Bucky doesn’t know why he’s trying to draw a smile out of you. He’s terrified and he knows you are too, but dammit, all he ever wants to do is make you smile.

“Tony would send more than an AI for you.”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “You underestimate how much he dislikes me.”

“It’s been better, hasn’t it?” you ask, and he knows you’re trying to distract yourself from the pain, so Bucky nods.

“It has. He hasn’t tried to kill me lately, so I’d consider that an improvement.”

You smile and Bucky’s whole world brightens around him. Sunshine through the night sky, past the dark clouds and the blizzard outside the window, flowers blooming through the snow. It's perfect. You’re perfect.

But then the pain sweeps in again and steals your smile away, warps it and twists it until you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe and Bucky is helpless but to watch.

There’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t know what the poison is, let alone how to counteract it. He doesn't often wish Stark was around, but he does in this moment. He’d know what to do. He could save you, take away this pain, in a way Bucky couldn’t.

He finds himself looking to the windows, watching as the snow continues to fall in blurring sweeps enough that he can’t see the trees beyond the clearing. He figures at least another foot of snow has piled up in the last hour but maybe if he could find the right layers in the back bedroom, he could make himself useful, venture out to find a nearby town or a phone or --

“Don’t.”

Your voice is barely a whisper but it punctures straight through to Bucky’s heart.

“Please don’t go,” you mutter out. “I don’t want to be alone when... when I...”

“Hey,” Bucky exhales, shaking his head, “hey, come on. What did I say? You’re not dying today, remember?”

He tears his eyes away from the window, forgets his plan because he knows you’re right. He can’t leave you. He wants to believe that his hope is enough, that his insistence will sway fate herself, but the truth is he doesn’t know. He can’t do much of anything at all, but he starts to wonder if there is something he can do to shoulder even an ounce of your pain.

Slowly, Bucky slips an arm under your back and gently guides you forward just enough so that he can slide into the space behind you. You mold against him as he eases his way onto the couch beside you, gathering you up into his arms. He runs a tender hand over your stomach along the spidery veins around the knife wound and you don’t wince. It seems to come and go in waves.

The next wave comes quickly and Bucky holds you through it the best he can. He’s never felt so helpless in his life; arms wrapped tight around you, a hand soothing along your arm as he tries to reassure you that this will pass, that Stark’s on his way, that you’ll be okay, but he doesn’t know if he’s telling the truth anymore.

You exhale as the pain subsides again and you’re drenched in sweat. Bucky is too, but he doesn’t mind, not if it means he can give you even an ounce of comfort through this. You curl against him, careful of the fresh stitches in your side.

“I’m scared.” It comes out broken and aching and Bucky’s heart lurches.

“I know, honey. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

It’s all he can say.

His own helplessness makes him sick.

There’s a prolonged silence and Bucky finds himself keeping a finger against your pulse, just to be sure. He feels like screaming or crying or maybe both, but he exhales a steady breath and tries to calm his heart rate instead because he knows you can hear it.

“I’m glad it’s you,” you say after a while, voice barely louder than a whisper. It’s faint, fading, and Bucky bites down on his cheek. “I’m glad... that if this is... if this is it... you’re here.”

It breaks his heart, shatters it to pieces. He’d trade places with you if he could, absorb your pain tenfold if it meant you’d survive this, but he knows it’s a fantasy. Bucky Barnes stopped allowing himself to indulge in such dreams a long time ago.

So, he holds you a little tighter, dares to press a kiss to the crown of your head, and rubs gentle circles along your spine. He can feel your pulse weaken, how it slips to beats a little longer apart, how your breaths fall shallow and he’s not ready to lose you yet. He’s not.

“How about when we get out of here, we go dancing?”

You don’t say anything, but he can feel your smile against his chest, the warm of your breath as you exhale a tired chuckle. It takes nearly all of your energy.

“Been thinking about it a lot since New Orleans,” Bucky continues. “It could be fun, you know? Get dressed up. Listen to good music. Beautiful woman in my arms. Sounds nice.”

“You should... You should go,” you tell him and he barely recognizes your voice. He clenches his jaw until it aches, brushes at the tear in his eyes you’re too weak to lift your head to notice.

“I’m not going with anyone but you, so no deal.”

“Bucky...”

“No deal. You or nothing, doll.” Bucky finds himself smiling through the tears. “You’re my only dance partner, okay? Can’t be having just anyone step all over my toes.”

You hum and it’s so faint he can hardly hear it.

Bucky clears his throat, swallowing back the lump that threatens to choke him. “We’ll have to go back to that bar, okay? The one off of Bourbon Street. Live music only. I can show you how we used to dance back in my day. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful at it.”

A smile breaks through the tears as he imagines spinning you under the soften glow of amber lights and the reflection of the moonlight through the windows, the roar of trumpets settling in his chest and the echo of your laugh etched right into his soul. You’d smile at him and his whole world would stop spinning.

“What do you say, doll?” Bucky sighs, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head. He brushes the hair away from your eyes, sticky and wet with sweat.

But you don’t say anything and suddenly, it’s impossibly silent.

Bucky stops breathing because he can’t hear the crackle of the fire place or the wind barreling against the cabin walls. He can’t hear the heavy snow as it brushes against the windows. He can’t hear your breaths, can’t feel the pulse as he reaches up to your neck, and that silence begins to feel like a void, like he’s screaming, but it’s all inside his head.

“Y/n?” he chokes out. There’s no reply, but still, as if to break his own heart a little more, he tries again. “Y/n? Please... don’t do this. Come on. Come back to me.”

Nothing.

“No... no no no... don’t give up on me,” Bucky pleads, tears burning hot in his eyes. “Y/n...”

He barely notices as the cabin door is blown open, as the wind screams outside and snow barrels in through the frame. He can’t focus on much of anything else as he tries to move your lifeless body in his arms, trying to wake you from the edge of a paralyzing darkness. He doesn’t recognize the blur of red and yellow as it crashes into the room.

“Banner! I need the antidote, now!”

You’re being pulled from his arms and all Bucky wants to do is hold on tighter.

“Barnes, you need to let go of her.”

The voice is calmer now, gentle, and Bucky allows himself to meet Tony’s eye. There’s a kindness there he doesn’t expect, an understanding. Tony’s helmet has been discarded and Bucky notices quickly he bares the same redness in the whites of his eyes, the same dark circles beneath. Tony’s hand lays upon your shoulder.

“Let me save her, Barnes,” Tony tries again as Bruce barrels in through the door in a parka a few sizes too big for his frame. He’s clutching a syringe in his hand, desperately trying to hold up the hood around his head.

Bucky nods numbly and releases you from his hold. Tony and Bruce lower you carefully down to the ground, laid upon the blankets he slept on less than an hour earlier. Tony presses his hand to your chest and an electrical spark jolts through your body. He tries again, and still, nothing.

Bruce pulls off the cap of the syringe and without hesitation, plunges it directly into a vein and releases the serum inside. He sits back on his heels and waits.

It's agonizing. The seconds feel like hours and Bucky is certain he’ll never learn to smile again, until suddenly, the purple veins along the knife wound begin to retract. They crawl along your skin and shrink back to the wound until they’ve disappeared entirely.

But then, the most beautiful sound.

You gasp for air, chest rising high off the ground before you sink back against the blankets. FRIDAY reports your pulse, says you’re stable, and Bucky presses his hands over his face to stop the sob before it consumes him whole. It’s made of relief.

“You did good, Barnes,” Tony says as Bucky lowers his hands.

He’s suspicious of the praise, but as Tony runs a hand over your hair, soothes it away from your face, Bucky knows he meant what he said.

“We should get her to the cradle,” Bruce says, shivering as he glances back to the door. “Helen will want to fix that wound up and run some tests to make sure the antidote worked.”

Tony covers you with the blankets as best as he can and gathers you into his arms. Bucky tries to ignore the lurch in his stomach as you press your nose to Tony’s neck, seeking out his warmth. He doesn’t say anything else before he flies out the front door, back to the quinjet.

Bruce starts to make his way to the door when he realizes Bucky isn’t following behind. He pauses and glances back at Bucky over his shoulder.

“How did you know?” Bucky asks weakly, staring at the empty syringe.

“A few of the Shield agents came back from the field with the same symptoms,” Bruce explains. He scratches the back of his neck. “We wanted to be prepared if either of you were infected by the poison.”

Bucky nods. He feels empty.

“She’s going to be alright, Barnes,” Bruce says and he places a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. It surprises him but he can feel the tension slip away as Bruce squeezes the muscle tightly. He gestures to the door. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

***

Bucky’s right hand is throbbing. Blood trickles down from the open scars on his knuckles and it smears into the punching bag. Beads of sand embed themselves into the wounds but he presses on because it’s better than the pit in his stomach, of seeing you laid up in the med wing with wires attached you and a monitor displaying the weak rhythm of your pulse.

It’s been days since you’ve been home, since the antidote was administered and Helen properly stitched up the stab wound in your stomach, and yet you’re still unconscious, barely breathing on your own. Banner can’t make sense of it, but he suspects it’s because the poison was in your system longer than the others.

Bucky can’t help but wonder that if he never left the field with you, if he had just stayed put and fought off whoever tried to come near, that maybe they could have saved you. Maybe he’s the reason you're still fighting for your life. Maybe if he wasn’t around at all you'd be safer, you'd be alive.

The bag dislodges from the ceiling and slams into the wall in an echoing thud.

Bucky sighs, slumping his shoulders down as he kicks at the sand streaming from the bag onto the gym floors. He turns to pick up the next bag in the long line leading from the storage closet when he stops dead in his tracks.

You’re standing in the center of the gym, still dressed the pale blue scrubs from the med wing, holding onto the edge of a weight machine for support. There is a mark in your arm from where the IV line should be, tape residue around your mouth from the tubes. It’s a miracle you’re on your feet at all and all Bucky wants to do is run towards you, wrap you tight into his arms, just to convince himself that you’re real, that you’re standing right there, but instead, he holds his ground. He’s turned to stone.

“Thought I’d find you here,” you chuckle, your voice raspy and airy, but it has a strength to it again. It sounds like you.

Bucky grips his hands at his side. “I didn’t... I didn’t know you were awake.”

You shrug. “Don’t think the nurses do either. Helen might be mad at me when she finds an empty bed in my room.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Y/n,” he says, his gaze focused on the floor. He pushes aside the heavy stone sitting in his chest as he starts to walk towards you to usher to towards the med wing. “I should get you back...”

“What else was I supposed to do when I woke up and you weren’t there?”

You’re smiling, teasing. There’s a laugh in your voice, and still Bucky can’t help the pang in his stomach. It twists and turns and threatens to consume him whole.

He rolls his eyes. “Maybe not wander around the tower after being in a coma for four days?”

The smile lingers upon your face despite his tone. It doesn’t seem to bother you at all, doesn’t throw you off your game, doesn’t puncture even a crack into the shield of your charm. No – you smile at him.

“You broke your promise, Barnes,” you say simply. “I’m here to scold you for it. Think you may owe me a few takeout nights before you’re out of the doghouse.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, daring to challenge your gaze. “What promise?”

“You left.”

Bucky feels the hitch in his lungs before the flash of guilt sweeps over his gut. You notice it just as quick because the teasing smile falls in an instant. He stumbles back away from you, slipping out from the extent of your outstretched hand.

“It’s better that way, Y/n,” he mumbles. “I’m the reason you ended up there.”

“Don’t you dare do that,” you snap, enough so that it startles him.

You struggle to walk the few steps closer to him, your legs wobbling underneath you and he wonders how you even made it across the tower and down five floors to the gym without anyone stopping you. You reach for his hand and because Bucky can’t bear to see you struggle, he offers his support. You balance yourself on the edge of the weight machine beside him, one hand anchored in his left forearm.

“Y/n,” he starts, taking in a deep breath, but you cut him off quickly.

“No. There is no room for the Bucky Barnes guilt parade here, okay?” you argue. “You saved my life, Bucky. You can’t possibly stand there and think for a second that you’re somehow to blame for anything less.”

He shakes his head. The guilt and shame that burns deep into his chest is one he knows well. It lives inside of him, festering, waiting for moments like these.

“If I hadn’t taken you from the field, if I got that blade out sooner, Banner could have given you the antidote hours earlier and you wouldn’t have—”

“I would have bled out before he had the chance,” you press, pulling yourself a little closer. “Those other agents? They had scrapes, Bucky. Nicks. The poison only started to affect me after you removed the knife. Bruce thinks it reacted to the oxygen in the air. Waiting to remove the blade, closing the wound... Bucky, you prolonged it as long as you could have. You gave me more time, gave Bruce and Tony time to find us. You saved me.”

Your hand squeezes at the solid metal of his forearm and Bucky knows he can't really feel it. He can only register the synapses faintly, as if they were distant, far away; it reads it like data and numbers, but there’s something in the way the pads of your fingertips press into the divots of vibranium that makes his breath hilt. His stare focuses on your thumb as it rubs soothing sweeps along the crevices and it takes him a moment before he dares to meet your eye.

When he does, all that is waiting for him is that same smile that lit up across a battlefield, that pushed through when you were on the brink of an endless darkness, that cast away the shadows and demons that swarmed in his chest just with the wrinkles up by your eyes. He felt lighter. Safer.

“Now,” you start, sliding your palm down his forearm until you can intertwine your hand in his own. You curl your fingers around his and you don’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by the harsh chill of the metal. You smile at him and for the first time in a while, Bucky finds himself smiling back. “I believe you owe me a dance, Sergeant.”

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you

5K notes · View notes

jisungsmochi · 3 years

Text

favorite crime - na jaemin

this is the second installment for my SOUR series! you can read jeno’s one here!

a little bad boy!jaemin x troubled (?) but still a ‘goodie goodie’ reader // strangers to friends to partner in crime to strangers again :/

word count: 7.2k

summary: “It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do

'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you”

who would have ever thought that, jaemin, the quiet boy you met in detention, would become your first love? getting involved with his shenanigans was probably the worst thing you could have done in your life. you were lucky enough to love someone like him, someone who excited you, scared you, and most of all, loved you back. but what happens when his actions suddenly have consequences?

a/n: this summary sucks but i liked writing this alot,, explains why it took me so long to write it oops.

tagging the bestie: @skrtbabe

Know that I loved you so bad

I let you treat me like that

I was your willing accomplice, honey

as you walked into the near-empty classroom, you made a beeline for the closest seat to the window. if you were going to be stuck in detention for two hours, you might as well have a nice view. you let out a short sigh to yourself, one hour and fifty eight minutes to go. the supervising teacher was lazily marking her class’ essays, completely choosing to ignore the entrance of na jaemin. he gave her a subtle scoff before stumbling past the desk, making his way to sit behind you. you heard him roughly place his bag onto the surface of his desk. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look back and see what he was up to. jaemin was always a mystery to you, and to everyone else in the school. despite keeping himself away from the majority, people had quite a lot to say about the boy. you heard rumours that he got stabbed (which you didn’t believe at all) but your classmate, haechan, insists he had video evidence. if anything, you don’t think you had ever spoken to jaemin in your entire life, but that was all about to change.

thirty minutes into detention and you were beyond bored. everybody was either catching up on school work or trying their best to not be caught on their phones. you opted to staring out the window, eyes following the movements of a particular butterfly. eventually, the butterfly decided it was time to leave your line of sight, causing you to let out a short huff. you heard a soft chuckle, belonging to the previously silent boy behind you. you slowly turned to face him, his eyes immediately latching to meet yours. he had his chin perched on top of his right palm, a cunning grin on his face. you gave him a glare,

“what are you laughing at?” you faintly whisper to him. this caught him off guard, he didn’t expect you to sound so stern.

“an explosion is about to happen” you grew to be more confused, what is he talking about?

“wha-“

“i’ll be right back! s-stay where you are!” your teacher suddenly blurts out, rushing out of her room as fast as she could. the rest of the students all looked over at eachother, some even opting to leave detention entirely.

you turned back to the snickering boy, who clearly had something to do with it.

“what the hell did you do?”

“put laxatives in her coffee” your jaw dropped, how the hell did he manage to do that?

“w-what’s wrong with you?”

“what’s wrong with you? learn to live a little” he suddenly stood up, slinging his bag across his body. his eyes still stayed on you, silently asking for you to follow him. this was one hell of a first impression. you weren’t sure what took over you in that moment, but you found yourself trailing behind na jaemin like a lost puppy as he led you both out of the school gates. he didn’t speak much to you, aimlessly walking to wherever the hell he needed to be.

“so what did you get into detention for?” he suddenly asked you, causing you to stiffen. you weren’t a stranger to getting into trouble, your short temper often being the root of your issues. but you weren’t exactly the most comfortable talking to new people.

“ah you’re a bit shy? i’ll start then, i stole lee haechan’s clothes after gym practice” he smirked to himself, feeling some sense of pride.

“that was you? he was running around school butt naked because of you” you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of seeing two full ass cheeks after your history class.

“that’s what he gets for claiming that he has proof i got stabbed? which is ridiculous by the way” jaemin shakes his head before coming to a complete stop. you slightly bump into his right shoulder, quickly stabilising yourself before looking at the quiet cafe infront of you.

“hungry?” you nodded in response, following him into the cafe. he seemed to have known some of the workers, earning you a free croissant and hot chocolate.

“so, i told you why i got into detention, now it’s your turn” he chimed, clearly entertained by having you as company.

“i punched kim yuna in the face” you slightly cringed at your own words. you weren’t the one to be physical in your confrontations, but this girl really struck a nerve.

“sheesh, i saw her earlier, you gave her nose a good bruising, i must say” he couldn’t help but find the entire thing entertaining. this was so odd to you, every person that had witnessed it, thought you went crazy. but here jaemin was, laughing at the situation.

“you think this is funny?” you asked curiously, rather than in a judgemental manner.

“well yeah, i don’t know why you did it, but she probably deserved it” he shrugged, taking a bite of his own pastry. you felt your shoulders begin to relax, infact your entire demeanour had changed. jaemin was the only person that didn’t push you to admit your faults and apologise. he didn’t need to know the whole story, he just took your words for what they were.

the next hour consisted of you and jaemin, sharing stories on some of the mischievous things you had gotten up to in the past. from small things like setting off stink bombs during an exam, to running from the mall cops after stealing a pair of pants from a store. jaemin liked your reactions to his stories, at first your face would be full of shock, then turn into some sort of enlightenment. he found it quite endearing to watch. he wasn’t too bad on the eyes either.

“need me to walk you home?”

“i don’t need you to do anything for me” jaemin just smirked at your response,

“but i wouldn’t mind if you did”

“ah i see how it’s going to be”

“what do you mean?”

“our relationship, it’s going to be very push and pull” what on earth was he on about?

“you got that from just spending a few hours with me?” jaemin nodded, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“i think we’ll be spending a lot of time together” was all he said back. if you had told yourself earlier that day, that you’d become na jaemin’s partner in crime, you’d punch yourself in the face. but this was only the beginning.

from that day onwards, you would purposely seek out jaemin’s presence. whether it be you walking to the most isolated parts of school, or simply trying to get into detention in the case he was there again. as a result of the laxative prank, jaemin had earned a two week long suspension. you had caught wind of this information from the school’s chatterbox, haechan. you’d think after being humiliated by jaemin, he’d keep his name out of his mouth.

you decided to visit the same cafe you accompanied jaemin to, incase he was hanging out there. you weren’t sure why you wanted to be around him so much. if anything, you were more at risk of getting another detention, or becoming a social outcast. but you were going to take those chances.

as you entered the cafe, your eyes scanned near and far for any sight of the black haired boy. you were about to give up, when you heard a voice,

“stalking me now?” you immediately froze, too nervous to turn back. you felt jaemin’s hand on your shoulder, slowly turning your around to face him.

“i-i no it’s not what it looks like-“

“it’s fine, you must have missed me, no?” he let a cocky grin land on his face. you just rolled your eyes, ready to walk right back out that door.

“let’s get up to some trouble today” he gripped your wrist gently, dragging you out of the cafe. he didn’t let go of you, once again, you were aimlessly following him. why did you let him do this to you?

jaemin wasn’t too much of a talker, he tended to try and speak with his eyes. you found it interesting, the way he expected you to know exactly what was on his mind. he eventually stopped walking after reaching an abandoned building. you were beginning to feel slightly anxious, noticing that the sun was slowly setting and the breeze was getting cooler. jaemin plopped his carry bag on the concrete floor, you heard clinking sounds erupt from the bag. he moved to pull out a few spray cans.

“ever graffitied?” you shook your head,

“not spray painting, but i’ve drawn some not so pleasant pictures in the bathroom stalls” you shrug as he handed you a can of bright yellow spray paint. he slightly chuckled at your anecdote, which made you look down at the ground.

“well you won’t get in trouble for messing up this place”

“what is this place anyway?” you start to shake the can, watching as jaemin started spraying onto the blank wall.

“somewhere i come when i don’t feel like going home” you weren’t sure if you wanted to press him to elaborate, so you just nodded, beginning to spray a random design of your own.

jaemin found hanging around you quite amusing. you were always up for anything he wanted to do. you seemed so cheerful about the simplest things, and never pushed him to explain the questionable things about himself. you were a lot different than the people he would usually surround himself with. but like many things in na jaemin’s life, they often went sour very quickly.

And I watched as you fled the scene

Doe-eyed as you buried me

One heart broke, four hands bloody

jaemin had asked you to accompany him to the abandoned building one night. you were half asleep and freezing to death as you approached his car. it was quite beat up, making you worried,

“is this thing even safe to be driving?” you groan as you wrap yourself in your large puffer jacket. jaemin had previously insisted you bring a sleeping bag and pillow. you chose not to question it, too tired to argue back with him.

“don’t disrespect my sweet ride! be grateful i didn’t make you walk in the cold” he scoffed before starting the engine. the car ride was fairly quiet, you were drifting in and out of sleep, in which jaemin noticed. he thought you looked so peaceful, so he tried his best not to make any sharp turns or run over many speed bumps. in a matter of time, he parked the car, gently wiggling your shoulder. you woke up instantly, feeling his cold hand on your cheek. you furrowed your eyebrows before following him out of the car. he led you to the same wall you both had graffitied on before, but this time, it seemed to have become a complete picture.

“i wanted to show you this! isn’t it cool?” he gleamed, pulling you to his side, slightly rubbing your shoulder to warm you up. you quickly ignored his touch, focusing back on the wall. it was a mirage of different doodles and words that must have meant something to jaemin.

“this is amazing, you did this all by yourself?”

“yeah, i really wanted to see your reaction”

“what does it all mean?”

“it’s kind of a representation of what goes on in my mind? i’m not the best with expressing my feelings with words, so i decided to let it out on this wall” jaemin spoke with such ease, his voice filling your ears with warmth. he pulled you closer to him when he saw you shiver,

“care to share?” you slightly joked. jaemin never got too deep with you, so you assumed he would brush the comment off. but he just stares back at you, his eyes piercing into your own. you held your breath as he leaned in closer to you.

“sure thing” he slowly leads you back to the car, turning on the heater as you both wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags. you were huddled up in the back seat, your head leaning on his shoulder as he played with his fingers.

“i never had an outlet for my imagination. my parents weren’t the most warm or loving people in the world. i barely remember anything from my childhood, except for the unpleasant memories. when i started hanging out with some of the older kids, they showed me the ropes of their crew. they taught me how to graffiti, how to carve things with a pocket knife, you know, basic seventh grade stuff” he let out a soft chuckle, but you didn’t laugh. instead you placed your hand over his, feeling the coldness shoot through your body.

“i-i don’t like showing how i feel. because i think it makes me weak, or pitiful. that’s a bad way of thinking, but i can’t help it. so i let out my frustrations here, by either spray painting or smashing random things. it’s nice to get it all out” he stops speaking, his posture suddenly stiffening. you lifted your head from his shoulder, forcing him to look over at you.

“i’m here to listen to you. you don’t have to result to destroying things in order to reveal your feelings. you can just talk to me next time, okay?” you assured him, tightening your grip on his hand. jaemin just nodded, his eyes faltering from yours. why were you so considerate towards him?

“wanna know why i punched yuna in the face?” you saw jaemin crack a smile, nodding frantically.

“she said some things about my family, how they only took me in because they felt sorry for me. see, i’m actually a foster kid, my real parents weren’t in the ‘right state of mind’ to take care of me. well, in the eyes of the law atleast” jaemin didn’t know how to respond, opting to pulling your head back into his shoulder.

“i know she was just trying to rile me up, my foster parents aren’t terrible. but hearing those words just struck a nerve. how can people be so judgmental?”

“that’s just life, love. everyone will always have their own opinions, but it’s up to you, on how to respond. or you can simply choose to ignore them, it’s always worked for me” jaemin started tracing small patterns on the back of your hand, feeling his eyes become drowsy.

“but i don’t want to always ignore my problems. i want to be able to face them, how else will i grow as a person?” you sighed,

“we grow each and every day, most of the time we don’t notice. you’re doing better than you think. sure, you’ll grow up soon enough, you’ll develop your own identity, but for now, enjoy the moment. don’t care too much about what others think, this is your life to lead” jaemin looked down at you, feeling a warm sensation reach his heart.

“for someone who doesn’t like speaking his mind, you sure give some great advice. promise we’ll be there for eachother?” you pull out your pinky finger from his grip, watching as he blinks for a few seconds. you sensed some hesitation, but blamed it on him being tired. eventually, jaemin linked his pink with yours, sealing it with a gentle press of his lips. you couldn’t hide how flustered you had gotten, burying your head in his chest as he started stroking your hair.

“thankyou for being with me tonight” he mumbled as he felt himself fall asleep,

“anytime”

sometimes jaemin would leave you hanging for days on end. at first you would get concerned, mainly for his own safety. you were never sure what he got up to in his spare time, and to be honest, you didn’t want to know. but after a certain amount of days, he would pop back into your life that nothing happened, as if no time had passed. today was one of those days. he was sitting on your bedroom floor, flicking through your history notes. you couldn’t pry your eyes away from him, he looked so peaceful.

“you’re so much smarter than me” he huffs, scratching his head as he closed your notebook.

“no way, i’m pretty average. you’re more street smart than i am” jaemin perks up at your words,

“i guess i am huh” he smirks to himself, making you slightly smile.

“i can help you study if you want, you need a pass, right?” you scooted over to him, sitting so that your shoulders brushed against eachother.

“well yes, technically. but passing doesn’t secure i’ll get into college. not that i can even go” he shrugs, eyes focused on his rings, beginning to fiddle with them.

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t have the grades, my parents barely have any money saved for my college fund. i don’t have a job, you see the issue here?” you sensed him stiffen up next to you, this topic clearly striking a nerve within him. you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it,

“you know college isn’t for everyone. i’m sure you will be able to live a good life” jaemin knew you were trying your best to cheer him up. but these were constant thoughts and struggles he had been dealing with for what seemed like a lifetime. he knew you would never fully understand, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that.

“y-yeah, i’ll be fine” he sighs, linking is fingers with yours. you worried about jaemin so much, it slowly began to take over your mind. you caught yourself thinking about him more often, how you wanted to be there for him during his dark times. but jaemin always shoved off the idea of getting too deep with his emotions. sure, he trusted you with most things, but there was always a thought in the back of his mind. you were way too good for him.

“what is this?” you smiled brightly at the boy standing across from you. he was leant up against your locker, gift bag in his hands, shoving it towards you.

“a token of my appreciation for our growing friendship” you chose to ignore the last word, your feelings towards jaemin still being undecided.

you slowly open the bag, your eyes landing on a small box. you furrowed your eyebrows, before opening it.

“t-this is beautiful, jaemin. how did you afford this?” you gasped, pulling out the shiny necklace from the delicate box. it was a silver chain, that sparkled under the light at just the right angle. there was a small pendent latched onto it, a butterfly.

“don’t worry about that, do you like it?” he grinned at you, taking in your ecstatic reaction,

“of course! i cant thank you enough!”

you pull him into a warm hug, arms tightening around his torso. jaemin chuckled softly, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame, slowly swaying you side to side.

“being there for me is enough, i promise”

The things I did

Just so I could call you mine

The things you did

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime

the following few days, jaemin went MIA again. you were beginning to become annoyed by his lack of communication. you wanted to believe he was gone for good reason, but something in your gut sensed something worse was happening. that’s when you decided to go to the abandoned building, remembering he often went there when he wanted to be alone. not having a car of your own caused many issues in your life. like right now, you were huffing and puffing once you hopped off your bicycle. you quickly set it aside, making your way to the building. before you turned to the main corridor that you met jaemin in many times before, you heard hushed voices, one belonging to the boy in question.

“we need this deal done asap. no excuses” a deep voice echoes through the building. you couldn’t get a good look at them without being caught, so you remained hidden behind a huge slab of concrete.

“b-but what if they think i’m scamming them because i’m new?” jaemin squeaked. you had never heard him so worried before.

“well you better think of some way to get them to buy, we can’t risk anymore losses. take this as initiation into the big boys club” what the hell was going on?

soon enough, the small group of men had left the building, walking past the concrete slab you were hiding behind. you let out a sigh of relief before rushing to jaemin. his eyes widened at the sight of you, part of him wanting to yell at you for being so stupid.

“what are you doing here?!” he was mad.

“i could ask you the same thing” you scoffed. jaemin suddenly became quiet, eyes avoiding yours.

“what’s going on? and i want the truth. the whole truth” he just sighed, dragging you back to his car. you folded your arms, in disbelief from what you had heard prior.

“i-i’m helping them with some deals okay? it’s just a side hustle to get some cash, i want to get out of this town. this is the only way”

“what are you dealing? drugs?” you gasped, watching as jaemin snapped his neck to face you.

“yes, it’s not as bad as you think-“

“not as bad? they’re literally part of a gang. do you know what happens to people who don’t seal these deals?” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“i know the risks. but i’m desperate. i just need enough to buy an apartment in another city and finally start my life” jaemin doesn’t know why he’s bothering trying to explain this to you. he brushed his fingers through his hair roughly, letting out a groan as he did so.

“when i said there are ways for you to live a good life, i didn’t mean deal drugs. i meant get an apprenticeship or something! literally anything but this”

“there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. i already swore i’d do this deal. i need the money. you wouldn’t understand” jaemin struck back, feeling attacked by your words.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? i-i can’t do this. come back to me when you’ve come to your senses. this is stupid and you know it” you rush out of his car, causing jaemin to trail behind you as you stumbled to find your bike.

“come with me” you stopped in your tracks.

“pardon?”

“come with me to the deal. i-i don’t want to go alone” he says barely above a whisper,

“you’re crazy if you think i’ll follow you like a lost pup-“ jaemin pressed his lips on yours, hands stuck to your waist, gently rubbing your sides as he deepened the kiss. your words became jumbled as he continued to kiss you. as much as you wanted to argue back with him, feeling his lips on yours was only something you had experienced in your dreams.

“please” he whispered, pulling away from you momentarily.

“o-okay” you whispered back, hands now on his shoulders. jaemin smirked with pride before pulling you in once again. he led you back to his car, dragging you into the backseat. he began trailing kisses down your neck, erupting a pleased sigh from you. and just like that, you were wrapped around his silly little finger.

you were now seated in the passenger seat of jaemin’s busted ass car. your nerves were off the charts, and so were his. you had never seen him so anxious before, he was breathing in quick successions and couldn’t stop shaking.

“just get it over and done with...okay? get in and get out” you try your best to ease his nerves but how much could you really say? you were encouraging him to commit to a drug deal, this was not how you expected your friday night to go.

jaemin just nodded, clutching onto something in his jacket pocket. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gently stroking your hair as he did so.

“thankyou for coming with me” he mumbled. you just nodded, trying to ignore your intense gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. he led you by your waist into the noisy bar. you kept your head down, allowing jaemin to gain sight of the clients. he didn’t let you approach the group of men, so you tried to distract yourself with a random fruity cocktail from the bar. it wasn’t enough to push aside your worries.

after what seemed like hours, you caught sight of jaemin, who seemed like he was in a rush. he quickly scooped you away from your seat, swiftly leading you out of the bar. before you could even open your mouth, he interjects,

“no time for questions, get in the car now” he harshly shoved you into the passenger seat. now you were more worried than before.

“what the fuck is going on?!” jaemin didn’t answer you, starting the engine of the car. before you could press him any further, the same group of men rushed out of the bar, eyes scanning for the boy next to you. this wasn’t good.

“may or may not have given them the wrong amount...nothing a little hide and seek can’t fix!” jaemin tried to laugh it off, but you knew he was equally as scared. his dingy car wouldn’t start, adding to the panic in the atmosphere. the group of men were already in their own vehicle, approaching jaemin’s car rather quickly.

“fuck fuck fuck” he began shouting, slamming his foot on the accelerator as the car hurled forward. in a matter of time, he was speeding down the street. he probably ran a couple red lights and a few stop signs, but he wasn’t fazed. you on the other hand, were about to throw up. jaemin kept taking sharp turns to throw off the car chasing you, he barely looked back. you were terrified in this moment. anything could go wrong, one wrong turn, and it could all be over. soon enough, he stopped right outside the all too familiar abandoned building. he was out of breath, the adrenaline still present in his system. you were completely frozen, still in shock at what had occurred.

“wasn’t that riveting?” he smirked. he fucking smirked?

“are you kidding me? that was fucking insane. d-don’t do this again. i don’t want any part of this anymore” you began tearing up, feeling your heart pump out of your chest. jaemin’s face dropped as he tried to hold your hand, in which you pulled away immediately.

“t-take me home. please.” he didn’t say anything back to you. he respected your wishes and took you home safely. you didn’t even want to think about the punishment he would receive from the gang for messing up the deal. the only thought of your mind was your own safety. jaemin risked your safety this time around. you would have done anything for him, but in this moment, you were beginning to regret it. na jaemin was trouble. and you needed to stay away from trouble.

staying away from na jaemin was harder than you thought. subtle glances from across the classroom or school courtyard wasn’t doing you any good. so you sought refuge in the library. somehow he managed to find you there too.

“y/n, please, talk to me” you continued to read the novel you weren’t interested in, trying your best to remain angry. he sat across from you, pulling down the book from your face, eyes begging to meet yours.

“there’s nothing left to say” he just sighs, never seeing you be so stubborn.

“i know what i did was wrong, i shouldn’t have put you in that posit-“

“can we please not discuss this here? where anyone can hear us?” you quickly interrupt him, pulling him to the school parking lot. out of habit, jaemin led you to his car, opening the passenger side door for you. you got chills as you sat in the seat once again, the memories flooding back.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have brought you into it. i just didn’t want to be alone...you’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel alone.” jaemin could barely look at you, too embarrassed of being vulnerable.

“you know how i’m against what you’re doing. and i know i can’t change your mind. i just can’t keep worrying about your safety. it hurts me knowing that you could get hurt one day” you began sniffling, which made jaemin’s heart ache. he pulled your face to meet his own, staring at your soft features. he slowly guided his fingers to wipe away your tears.

“don’t worry too much about me, love. i’ll be just fine” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and just like that, you were dragged right back into his arms.

“be careful” you whispered against his lips,

“always”

You used me as an alibi

I crossed my heart as you crossed the line

And I defended you to all my friends

jaemin wasn’t careful. not in the slightest. he showed up at your window, hands clutching to his lower torso area as he stumbled into your room. you hushed him to be as quiet as he could but you immediately knew something was wrong. he practically fell to his knees, soft whimpers and sighs leaving his mouth. you quickly moved to turn on your lights, taking a better look at the boy in pain. your eyes travelled along his face, covered in scratches and bruises.

“you good with playing medic tonight?” he joked, trying to relieve the tension. but you were not having any of it. you pulled him into your bed, allowing him to lay on his back. he had an array of cuts over his body, including a large gash on his lower lip. you swiftly rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your not so impressive first aid kit, but it would have to do for now. you tried your best to disinfect what you cold, until you reached his torso. you saw there were specks of blood leaking onto his t shirt, which made you more worried than you were initially. jaemin just sighed, lifting up his shirt slowly. your eyes were glued on the painful wound plastered on the right side of his body.

“d-did someone stab you?!” you felt tears prickle the side of your eyes. how could he be so stupid?

“n-no, its just a cut, it’s not even that deep” he tried to play it off, but the moment you pressed the cleansing wipe onto the wound, he winced.

“stop playing the tough guy. i hate when you play tough guy” you groan, trying your best to tend to his wound. jaemin watched as your expression changed from one of concern, to annoyance.

“hey, don’t be mad at me, okay?” he brought his hand to hover over your thigh, gently stroking his fingers on the surface.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, trying his best to sit up, but you immediately pushed him back down. you moved to lay next to him, allowing yourself to finally look him in the eyes.

“i can’t always be here to take care of you like this, jaemin. as much as i want to, there are going to be times where i just can’t. you have to understand that”

“of course, i didn’t expect you to be my personal nurse or anything. i just don’t want you to leave” his words sank deeply into your thoughts.

“i-i won’t leave”

“thankyou. i promise i will take you out and we will have fun. like old times. we can go on a road trip, or even that stupid homecoming dance you keep talking about. i’ll do anything to make it up to you because i ca-“ he immediately stopped himself, clutching his side.

“just get some rest, we can continue this discussion another day. goodnight jaem” you just sighed, turning on your back to face him. jaemin didn’t know why he couldn’t finish his sentence. he does care about you. more than anyone else in the world. but why couldn’t he just say it?

you on the other hand, were too busy imagining your future with jaemin. would he be there as your partner in crime for life? or was he just someone passing by to teach you a lesson? you weren’t too sure you wanted to find out.

“y/n, principal lee wants to see you in his office” your economics teacher informed you during class, eyes of classmates following you as you left the room. you swore you hadn’t done anything remotely mischievous lately, besides snatching a cheat sheet for the upcoming final.

“ah yes y/n, please take a seat” principal lee invited you into his office. you tried your best to stay focused on the stubby man in front of you but you couldn’t ignore the two police officers standing to the side.

“you wanted to see me, sir?”

“yes, these officers are here to ask you some questions. don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. they just need some information for their investigation” he explains as best he could, shifting the conversation over to the two officers.

“as principal lee mentioned, we just need information. are you comfortable with us asking you a few questions?” you slowly nodded, hands beginning to clam up.

“we have reason to believe your friend, na jaemin, has been involved in an incident that occurred last thursday. he claims he was present with you that night. can you confirm this?” you immediately froze. you swore you didn’t even blink. that was the night he came to your window, all banged up a bruised. but you couldn’t tell them that part. so you went with a variation of the truth,

“yes, he was with me, we often study together and watch movies on thursdays.” you tried your best to maintain eye contact, not wanting to draw any more attention.

“have you noticed anything odd in his behaviour lately?” you knew they were just following protocol, but you weren’t prepared for any of this.

“not really. he is quite reserved naturally, but there hasn’t been anything too alarming, in my opinion” the officers just nodded, scribbling down your words.

“thankyou for your time, if we were to need any more statements from you, would you be okay with that?” you simply nodded, wanting nothing more than to get back to class.

“great, we’ll be heading off now, thankyou principal lee, and y/n” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. what in god’s name happened that night?

“why were the cops coming out of the office? did you do something?” your friend, jimin asked you as she rushed to your side.

“n-no, they were asking about jaemin” you sighed. you didn’t want to tell her much, knowing she wasn’t his biggest fan.

“y/n, you have to stop hanging out with him so much. he’s bad news. i mean, he’s got the cops questioning you? is that someone you really want to be with?” you knew she had your best interest at heart, but she didn’t know jaemin like you did. no one did.

“don’t talk about him like he’s some pest in my life. he makes me happy, okay? i’d do pretty much anything for him” you huff, beginning to walk away.

“but would he do anything for you?” her words made you stop in your tracks. she was right to question that. god, even you questioned it sometimes. would he?

And now every time a siren sounds

I wondеr if you're around

'Cause you know that I'd do it all again

jaemin insisted he take you to the homecoming dance — he even pinky promised you.

“jaemin! i’m so excited for tonight, what time are you coming by?” you excitedly squeal into the phone, making jaemin slightly chuckle.

“uh love, i-i don’t think i can make it tonight” you felt your heart drop.

“what? why?”

“i have some business to take care of. i promise you i’ll take you out soo-“

“i think you should stop making promises you can’t keep. hope you have fun doing whatever you’re doing” you immediately hung up, wiping the stray tears from your face. you quickly pulled yourself together. showing up alone to the homecoming dance after you told your friends you were going with jaemin, was probably one of the most embarrassing things you had ever experienced. they all felt pity for you, dragging you to dance, trying to get you to forget about jaemin. but nothing was working. you were beyond disappointed, partially in yourself, for believing he could actually keep his promise.

the moment you got home, you saw someone sitting on the steps just outside your front door. you let out a loud sigh, hoping he heard everything. you wanted to push right past him and go to bed, but jaemin trapped you in his arms. you felt something was off about him. he was stiff as a board, he didn’t say anything to you. you finally got a glimpse of his face, his right eye was swollen and there was a slight gash on his cheek. you immediately gasped, all your anger towards him had fizzled away.

“w-what happened?” you barely whispered, bringing your hand to the side of his face. jaemin winced as he felt the touch, quickly pulling away.

“finally got what was coming” he tried to laugh it off, but he knew you weren’t going to laugh back. instead, you allowed him to follow you to your room, hoping your parents were fast sleep.

jaemin slowly made his way to sit on your bed. you felt like he had something else he was hiding from you, but your main focus was yet again, tending to his wounds.

“i’m getting some real déjà vu right now” you sighed, cleaning his face. jaemin tried his best to not move, but everything stung. he really got it bad this time.

“i’m sorry for breaking my promise. i know how much the dance meant to you” he softly muttered, eyes avoiding yours.

“i-it’s okay”

“no it’s not! you do so much for me, and i couldn’t even do this one thing for you. i feel so shitty. why do you even keep me around? i’m deadweight and that’s trouble for someone with wings” he scoffs, replaying harsh words he had heard from others in the past. you slowly plucked away the medical kit, turning to face him properly. (a/n: not me using a quote from the show ‘panic’)

“you’re not deadweight...you’re a good person, jaem. you’re good to me, that’s what matters” you gently push away the stray strands of hair that covered his forehead. he smiled at your touch, leaning into your palm as you brought it to cup his cheek.

“i love you”

you almost choked on your own saliva...he loves you?

“w-what?”

“yikes, not the response i was hoping for” he yet again, tried to relieve the tension with a joke. but you weren’t having any of it.

“can you be serious for one minute in your life? you can’t just say something like that and not expect me to freak out! i mean, do i love you too? of course i do! i would be stupid not to, but jaemin, you cant just spit that out of nowhere!” you began pacing around your room, which made jaemin smile even wider.

“well i just did. and i mean it” he stood to meet you, standing in the middle of your room as he held your shoulders in place.

“s-so what happens now?” jaemin hesitated for a moment, did he just ruin everything?

“we can’t be together”

“pardon?”

“i-i can’t do that to you. i can’t let you be with someone like me. i’m constant danger. the cops are going to get me one day, and i don’t want you to see it happen” he started rambling, you were barely understanding anything.

“this makes no sense. you’re telling me that you love me but you can’t be with me? why would you do this to me?” you started sobbing,

“i-i don’t expect you to understand. i just needed to tell you before...” he paused, pulling you closer to him. but you pushed yourself away. you didn’t want to hear anymore but forced yourself to listen. you needed answers.

“before what?” you gritted through your teeth,

“before i leave” your eyes widened, tears stopped flowing for a moment. you couldn’t make out any words, allowing jaemin to explain,

��i cant stay here, not in this town. i need to go somewhere else. somewhere they won’t find me. somewhere i can start over” he sighed, sitting back down on your bed.

“take me with you! we can go tonight, i don’t care where i am, as long as you’re with me i’ll be okay!” you begged, pulling out your duffel bag from under your bed. but jaemin quickly gripped your wrists, pulling you to sit with him on the bed.

“y-you can’t come with me. it’s not fair on you, or me. i want you to have a better life, a life with no regrets. you have so many goals, i can’t hold you back from them. i won’t” he insisted, holding your hands in his as he pleaded you with his eyes. you weren’t thinking straight, everything became so overwhelming.

“why are you doing this to me? i cant do this without you! i cant get through all of this without you. please don’t leave” your hands began to shake. jaemin brought them to his lips, placing soft pecks on each knuckle in an attempt to calm you down.

“you can. i know you can. because you’re you. an incredibly loyal, intelligent and courageous person. you don’t need me. if anything, i need you more” he smirked at the last part. you kept shaking your head, not believing anything he was saying.

“just promise me one thing?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that your foreheads touched.

“don’t forget me. don’t forget all the things we got up to. i had so much fun with you, more fun than i’ve had in my entire life. i can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. i love you, okay? i’ll always love you” finally, he kissed you. his hands dragged to your waist, rubbing over the soft skin. you shined into the kiss, partially still upset with his departure.

“can we just have one last night together?” you pulled away, wiping away the rest of your tears. jaemin softly nodded, pulling you down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“thankyou for being my partner in crime. i’ll miss you” he sighed, gently scribbling random doodles on your arm with his fingers.

“i miss you already. maybe one day, we’ll meet again? i don’t know, am i being silly?” you didn’t want him to answer, afraid he’d break another promise.

“you’re not silly at all. we’ll see what life has planned for us” he responded. that was enough for you. you’ll leave it up to fate. you were just happy you were spending one last night with the boy you loved so dearly.

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do

'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you

Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

Oh, look what we became

you awoke the very next morning in an empty bed. your heart sunk, knowing jaemin was gone had finally hit you. your eyes drifted to where he once was, landing on a piece of paper.

‘go to the building for one last goodbye. i hope you like it.

- jaem <3 ‘

you quickly got changed and rushed there as fast as you could. would he be there to bid you farewell? you weren’t betting on it, but was still curious as to what he had to show you. you made your way into the building, your eyes cascading over all the graffiti. finally, you saw exactly what he left for you. he painted over the mural you both worked on. it had been replaced with a painting of a butterfly. its wings were all different colours, you could tell he spent ages on it. you finally reached the bottom of the artwork, a small inscription was engraved,

‘for the one with the wings, keep on soaring’

“so cheesy, i hate it” you joke to yourself, smiling at his words. this was his final gift for you. as you admired the painting once again, memories of all your little adventures came rushing back. everything you did together seemed like an eternity ago. although you wished you had confessed to him sooner, or kissed him harder, you knew that he was gone for good. jaemin wasn’t the time to keep many promises, so you’ve learnt. you started to put your faith in the universe. if you were meant to be, then you would meet again. but for now, you were content with everything you had gone through together. you were grateful to have known someone as amazing as jaemin, and you would never take that for granted. you only hoped he would do the same, no matter where you both were in life. you hoped you could both grow wings and soar through life without any regrets.

#na jaemin #na jaemin imagine #jaemin imagine #jaemin fic #nct dream imagine #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct jaemin imagine #nct series #nct au #nct jaemin au #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #nct dream fluff #jisungsmochi masterlist #jisungsmochiimagines

188 notes · View notes

wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

Fearing You, Loving You | Part 3

Word Count: 3.3k

Genre: smut, angst, some fluff

Warnings: dom!felix, sub!reader, yandere!felix, cockwarming, blowjob, felix loves hentai and humiliating oc, filming, creampie, spitting, mentions of violence.

Sequel to I'm Yours, You're Mine

Gif credit @915archive (yes I'm only gonna use your gifs for lix from now on lol)

You decided that you can't just passively accept your condition. You had to do something to improve your situation, and you know just what to do.

When Felix comes home from work, you greet him with a kiss that surprises him before you lead him to the bathroom where you had drawn him a bath, gently stripping him and pulling him to the tub.

Felix stares at you in wonder as get a loofah and pour some body wash on it.

"What's the occasion?" He asks, happily leaning into your touch.

"Can't a woman show her husband how much she appreciates him?" You drawl, knowing that his delusional mind and his need to believe that everything is okay will make him easily accept your answer. “I just want to show you how much I love you…”

He relaxes into your touch completely as you gently scrub his body and wash his hair while he lay calm and content like a cat between your arms.

He looked so happy and peaceful, and you lean in to give his pouty lips a peck. His eyes spring open, staring at you in awe before they turn into the lovely crescents they get when he smiles.

“I love you.” He beams, and you curse your heart for still fluttering at his words after all he’s done, but you still can't bring yourself to reply, and Felix's face turns hard. He grabs your hands, stopping your movements. "Tell me you love me."

You hold his gaze for a minute, your heart hammering against your ribcage, before you force yourself to smile.

“I’m madly in love with you.” You murmur, washing the conditioner out of his hair before you pull him up to his feet and wrap a towel around his waist.

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him into the bedroom, drying him off and grabbing a bottle of lotion. Carefully, you rub the product over his skin, taking care to massage the areas you think might be sore like his neck and his back. You tell yourself that you’re only doing this to appease him so that he'll let you have a relationship with your child, disregarding the ball of warmth that keeps growing in the center of your chest with each happy sigh and loving glance he throws at you.

You dress him up in soft pajamas and sit behind to dry his hair. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs ever slightly open as he surrenders himself to your touch. He looks so soft, just like the Felix you used to know, that you can’t help but let the towel fall away as you run your fingers through his soft, wet her and press your lips to his cheek. Felix hums appreciatively, leaving his head to the side to give you better access, when a knock sounds at the door, making you jump back.

"Can I come in, daddy?" Your daughter’s sweet voice pipes up from behind the door.She wasn't allowed to step into the master bedroom without permission, and said permission could only be given by her father if he was present. Felix opens his eyes and is met by your longing ones, silently begging him to let your daughter in.

He doesn’t look like he wants this moment to be interrupted so you’re shocked when his reply comes, voice deep with exhaustion."Come in, sweetheart."

Your heart swells and you smile brightly at him. It's working!

He responds with a tired smile of his own as the girl opens the door and timidly comes in.

"What are you doing?" She asks curiously.

"Mommy is doing daddy's hair." You beam, playing with Felix’s hair absently.

"Oh!" Her eyes sparkle, "Can I be the one who styles your hair, daddy?"

Felix chuckles lowly at her enthusiasm, "Of course, princess."

The girl squeaks in happiness and jumps in place. "I just have to get some stuff from my room. I'll be right back."

You stare lovingly at her small retreating form. When she's gone, your eyes go back to Felix and you see him looking up at you with adoration in his eyes that makes your breath hitch in your throat. He takes one of your hands in his and places a soft kiss to the back of it. "This is perfect, darling. Thank you. I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes if it means we’ll be together forever, my sweet.”

Your breath hitches and hand shakes in his hold. A million conflicting emotions swelled up inside you, but they were all smothered as soon as your daughter steps back into the door, jumping onto the bed with her little box of hair accessories and a comb.

You pull your hand away as she gets to work, and you watch them closely, eyes trained on your daughter’s excited smile as she messes with her daddy’s hair, and the equally as gorgeous smile he has on his face as he lets her unleash her creative side on him, encouraging her all the while.

They looked so happy all wrapped up in their little bubble, and you so wanted to be part of it too. You could be. He promised you you can, if only you’d be good. And isn’t that what you wanted? The love of your daughter and your husband? Why were you fighting him so hard?

“Do you prefer the pink ribbon or the sparkly clip, daddy?” Your girl holds the items in her small hands to show them off and Felix pursues his lips in contemplation.

“The clip I think.” You cut in, brushing Felix’s hair down. “It matches daddy’s sparkly eyes, don’t you think?”

“Ohh, that’s right!” Your girl exclaims, putting the ribbon down and placing the clip in Felix’s hair. “What do you think, daddy?”

“I don’t know. What does mommy think?” He holds your hand, smiling up at you, and you know you’re doing the right thing.

“I love it. You look really pretty, honey.” You lace your fingers with his, “You did a great job, sweetheart.”

“Yaaay!” Your girl claps in excitement, and Felix turns to her. “Would you like to go get some donuts, princess?”

“Yes, daddy!” She chirps and jumps off the bed. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Your smile falls. You weren’t allowed to go on outings like this with them lest you steal your daughter and run away or alert anyone.

"You wanna come with, love?" He brings your hand back to his lips, pressing a kiss to it.

You couldn't believe how well this was working. You haven't been allowed out like this in years! Maybe you just needed to be nicer to him, and he'll give you everything just like he promised.

You don’t give him a moment to reconsider, rushing to accept. "I'd love to!"

__________

Everything was perfect. The night breeze, your daughter's excited voice, the city lights. This is what you could have, always.

Only one detail was off, how Felix never let go of your daughter's hand. But you don't let that bother you. You still needed to prove to him that he can trust you. And everything will be good again.

You step into the store with a bright smile, following Felix to the register and watching him pay for the donuts and coffee. You all then go to select the donuts you want. You pick a chocolate one and a strawberry one.

While Felix and your daughter choose their own donuts, the barista tells you that your coffee is ready. Not thinking, you leave your husband and daughter and go to pick up the coffee.

"Umm where is the sugar--" You wonder absentmindedly before spotting it and reaching out for it. The barista reaches out at the same time and your hands touch. You quickly pull away, the both of you laughing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You smile, a little embarrassed.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind touching hands with such a pretty lady.” The barista flirts, passing you the sugar. You sheepishly reach out to take them, feeling a little anxious for some reason you can’t pinpoint.

You realize your mistake when someone else intercepts you and snatches the sugar packets away. You look up to see a very angry Felix glaring the man down. "She is pretty, isn't she? She’s also my wife."

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I was just trying to help.” The barista clears his throat and looks down.

“I’m sure you were.” Felix grits, quickly putting the sugar in the coffee and stirring it. As soon as he’s done, he hands you the coffee and drags both you and your daughter out of the shop.

The walk back home he is silent despite your daughter’s constant attempts to make small talk. When you reach your building, he tells you to go up and get dinner ready.

"Where are you going daddy?" Your daughter asks, and Felix glares at you. "Daddy has to take care of something, princess."

You blanch, holding onto him. "Felix, please."

He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Do you want to make a scene in front of your daughter? Wanna let her hear how much of a slut her mother is?"

Tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head. Everything was so perfect. How did it go so wrong? You were so stupid. If you hadn't moved from Felix's side, none of this would've happened.

Felix pulls you off of him and orders you to go upstairs, and with a teary face you obey.

When you step into the apartment, your daughter turns to you with crossed arms and a frown on her little face. “You made daddy angry again, didn’t you?”

You stare at her in shock. “What?”

“You always make daddy angry. You always ruin everything.”

Finding yourself angry for the first time at your daughter. "You don't know anything. You don't know how much I sacrificed for your sake!"

"I don't care. You only make daddy sad and I hate you."

Her words stab at your heart. With blurry eyes, you grab her and throw her into her room, locking the door behind her and falling to the floor in a sobbing mess.

You felt wretched. You felt abandoned. You know it's not your daughter's fault, that she's brainwashed, but her words hurt you so much and you find yourself craving reassurance and affection that you know you can only get from one person.

Wiping your tears, you go to your room to dress up for him, wearing the lingerie dress he had wanted to see on you, and then go to the kitchen to make him dinner, hoping that would appease him enough to give you what you need.

__________________________

When you hear the door open you freeze in your spot, all your fears reaching their extremes again. You remain still as a statue as you hear his footsteps approach until he's right behind you, his body flush against yours, his hands snaking up your body to grab at your breasts.

“Did you enjoy your little show babe?" He asks, tone sharp.

"No." You quickly attempt to clarify, "I didn't mean to be bad."

"Is that why you looked like you were going to get on your knees in the middle of the store and blow him?"

You shake your head harshly, "I didn't. I just smiled because I was nervous."

He scoffs, his small hands pushing your dainty bra down and roughly groping your tits. "You think I believe you? God, I let you out once thinking you'll be good, but my little cockslut can't help herself, huh?"

“No, Felix--” Tears brim your eyes once again. He wasn't giving you what you wanted. “I would never do anything to betray you.”

"But you did." He growls, rubbing your pussy coarsely while squeezing your tits. “I should’ve bred you before leaving. You’re much better behaved when my cum is dripping down your legs and reminding you of who you belong to.”

“I’m sorry.” You sob, leaning into his touch, hoping to appease him.

"You will be sorry, baby.“ He promises, making you shiver as he backs away, “Put the food on the table. No plate for you. Whores don't get to eat food. I'll keep your mouth busy with something else."

You know what’s coming, and you feel incredibly humiliated. "No, Felix, please. It's embarrassing."

"Good. You should be embarrassed. If you're gonna act like a cock-hungry slut then you need to be treated like one." He snarls, chuckling at your tears. “You’re crying? Baby I haven’t even given you anything to cry about.”

Helplessly, you prepare his plate for him, already expecting his command.

“Get on your knees.” He sneers, watching you get between his legs. “Take my cock out and suck on it.”

You try to obey but when you see the blood stains on his pants, you stop abruptly. “Felix, what did you....”

He looks down at you with heavy eyes and smirks, "Don't worry I didn't kill the man you were drooling after. I just made sure he won't look at other men's wives again."

You shiver, not knowing quite what he means, With Felix this could be anything from a slight warning to a crippling attack. You know he won’t give you more information though so, for your own sake, you unzip his pants and pull out his hard dick, immediately taking it in your mouth.

"That's a good girl." He breathes out, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "Show your master how sorry you are."

You swirl your tongue around his dick, sucking on it earnestly, but as you pull up to breathe he pushes you down, making you take him completely, your nose brushing against his pubic bone with his length fully down your throat. He holds you there and you try to relax your throat as much as possible and try to breathe through your nose, knowing he’ll keep you there.

And he does. Through the whole meal, he stays balls deep in your throat, only resurfacing to fuck your mouth before he buries his dick in your throat again.

Soon, your jaw gets sore, making your saliva dribble all over his dick and crotch, but Felix doesn't care. In fact, it turns him on, knowing you’re struggling to accommodate his length.

It feels like forever before he lets you go, letting you crash back against the table as you cough and gasp in. You raise your hand to your face to wipe at the mess you've made but Felix stops you.

“Don't clean up. I want you just like you are, my dirty slut.”

__________________________

He has you on your back on the bed, arms hooked under your thighs and shackled together so that they are pulled up to your chest, immobilizing you and laying your pussy bare for him.

The flash of the camera goes off as your husband takes a picture of you in the compromising position.

He stares at it as it develops then he shows it to you, making your cheeks flame red at seeing just how lewd you look.

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that, baby. And all mine, right?”

"Yes, baby, all yours." You gush, hoping he'd have mercy on you.

He brushes his fingers down your thigh, skipping over your core and going up the other one, making you shake in need.

"Want my fingers in your pussy, honey?" He murmurs, brushing the tips of his fingers up and down your pussy with a feather light touch that only makes you whimper out in need.

"Yes, Lix. Need you so bad." You gasp as his palm meets your pussy is a sharp slap, making your body convulse at the intense sensation.

"Is that what you call your owner after everything you've done?"

You shake your head, "No, master. I'm sorry."

"That's better." He purrs, slipping his middle finger inside of you. It was barely enough, just brushing your walls as he pumps it in and out of you.

"More, please, master."

"You're so greedy. Always begging for more."

He pushes his index in, the pads of his fingers brushing ever so slightly over your walls. You struggle, your body trying to close your legs but you can't.

He curls his fingers and rubs back and forth against your g-spot, making you shake. "Master, please."

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.”

You nod, trying to appease him, and whine in distress when he takes his fingers out of your pussy. He brings them up to your mouth.

"Tongue out." He says gruffly, placing his fingers on your tongue and pumping them in and out of your mouth, occasionally hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around them.

"You're mine, baby. You were made for me. If only you would see." He sighs, taking a picture of you choking on his fingers before pulling them away, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake.

He presses his dick against your entrance and you whimper.

"Gonna give you my cock now. Gonna stuff you full." He purrs, pushing himself inside. "Let's see if I can get your eyes to roll back into your skull, angel."

He takes multiple pictures of you as he fucks you, instructing you on how to pose and what faces to make.

"Yeah, that's it darling. Gonna carry these around to show to any man you try to seduce so they'd know whose slut you are."

You shake your head, tears brimming along your eyelashes from how roughly he's fucking you. This isn't what you wanted. You need him to love you and be gentle with you.

"That's not true!" You sob, barely able to get the words out between him railing you and your uncontrollable tears. "I didn't do anything. I was good just like you wanted."

"Don't fucking lie to my face!" He grits, throwing the camera to the side and grabbing your thighs so he can brutally drive his hips into yours, his cock not giving your pussy a break. "I saw the way you were looking at him."

"No. No." Your eyes roll up as you feel your pussy start to clench around him, his cock forcing the orgasm out of you.

"There you go. That's my good slut."

You see the flash of the camera go off as you cum, and you can't even imagine how fucked out you look right now.

He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. "Say ahhh."

Dumbly, you obey, opening your mouth wide for him to spit into. You keep your mouth open while he takes a picture of you.

"Swallow." He commands, watching you with dark eyes as you do and groaning when you open your mouth again to show him. "Good girl. You got me so close, baby. Gonna give you all my cum. You want it, baby?"

You whimper in agreement, your poor pussy getting sore and overstimulated.

"I should take away your birth control and stuff you full of my cum. Give you another baby and keep you pregnant all the time so everyone would know that your pussy is taken." His pace gets sloppy and erratic as he nears his end.

"No, baby, please. Don't."

"Shut up, slut. I'll make it so everyone will know that you're claimed." He jerks his hips forward one last time before he groans loudly and his cock twitches inside you, filling you up with his cum.

He stays there for a while, pluging your pussy and keeping his cum inside as if he intends on making true on his promise.

When he pulls back, you feel his seed dribble out of your pussy before a flash goes off.

"Stick your tongue out." He orders, and puts your fingers up in a double peace sign to mimic the fucked stupid characters in the hentai he loves to watch so much.

"Perfect." He smiles, showing you the picture. You look ruined, used, and entirely his.

________________

A/N: hope you're as dead as I am

#felix smut #stray kids smut #yandere!felix #dom!felix #sub!reader #stray kids angst #felix angst

315 notes · View notes

demonsandmischief · 3 years

Text

You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2

#captain america imagine #captain america #steve rogers fluff #captain america x reader #captain America x you #iron man #avengers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel

492 notes · View notes

itsthestutterforme · 3 years

Text

The Next Step Part Two

Summary: A few kids were able to hear Hanseok's screams in the abandoned house Vincenzo left him in. They called the ambulance in time to take him to the hospital. Months later, Hanseok tracks Y/N down at a party with Han and tries to kill her. Han had something else in mind.

Notes: mention of Jang Hanseok, mentions of Vincenzo plots, SMUT warning, 18+, minors DNI, GIF is not mine

Despite it being months since Vincenzo's call saying that Hanseok was dead, Han still kept his eye on you. Once he saw you actively looking for apartments, he squashed it and said that you could keep each other company. Something fluttered in you when he said that he was willing to do anything to keep you safe.

For once, you enjoyed someone staking claim over you. With Han, he respects your individuality and free will. He doesn't restrain you from doing anything but when he thinks you're doing something dangerous, he'll keep you company.

Sean thinks that Han will ask you out or something but you said that wasn't going to happen he only saw you as a friend and he was still in love with Giselle. Sean asked Han the same thing and he was said similar things. So Sean decided to leave you two alone and let you two figure it out ourselves.

"Put something cute on, we're going to a party." Han says, poking his head in to see you doing yoga. "Who are you trying to be flexible for?" He asks. "For me, Han. Yoga calms me." You say, lifting one leg and tucking it on your pelvic bone in the tree pose. Han steps into the room and pushes you into the cushion in front of you.

"Han!" You scold. "Come on, Sean is waiting for us." He says, turning his back to leave but you jump on his back instead. You grab the chips from his hand and jump off his back to make a run for it but he already grabs you. The back of your knees hit the bed, sending you both hurdling onto the bed.

Your hair fans around your head as you stare up at him. A smile tugs on his lips and he asks, "Is that where you wanted this to go?" You were completely baffled by the fact that his hips were hovering over yours and his chocolate brown eyes drifting between your lips and your eyes.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" "Something like that." He leans in so close you could practically taste him. Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart bangs against your chest but your find yourself pulling him closer until your lips collide with his. A softly sigh into the kiss and he plants a hand on either side of you.

You were just getting used to him lips against yours when his phone starts to ring. He pulls away with a grumble and answers his phone with a sharp what. You smile up at him and you could hear Sean asking where you guys were through the phone but Han leans down to give you a few more kisses in response.

"We'll be there. Don't get your boxers in a twist," Han says against your lips. He ends the call and kisses you once more before getting up from the bed. "Get dressed."

"Roger that," you say, sliding to the edge of the bed. "You want your chips back?" "I'm actually in the mood for dessert, but I'll gladly wait until later tonight." He says, giving you a once over.

Feeling a bigger sense of pride, you walk up to him and press the bag of chips into his chest. "I'm going to take a shower, care to join?" You ask. "If I do that, we're definitely not making it to the party.

Han and Y/N finally pick up Sean thirty minutes later and he immediately felt a change in the vibe between you two. And he definitely noticed the stolen glances and smiles you would send each other. But he didn't say anything until he was alone with Han.

"So what happened between you two?" Sean asks before taking a swig of beer. "What are you talking about?" Han asks, trying to keep it cool by having his back leaning against the railing and not staring at her like he wanted to do. But at least Sean has eyes on her.

Han has body guards trained on her at all times but he still worries for her. It's like he can finally breath when he sees her. "Alright, well what if I tell you she was talking with a pretty good looking guy right now?" "She's her own person. I don't control anything she does." Han answers, popping a chip into his mouth.

"Oh, look at that, he's snaking an arm around her waist." Sean teases and Han wiped his head around so fast, Sean felt whiplash by just witnessing it. Han looked to see you softly swaying her hips to the music as you sipped on your Sake. No man in sight. Once Han realized that he rolled his eyes at Sean but couldn't hide the sigh of relief that left his lips.

"So what changed between you two?" Sean repeats. "We kissed. And it felt so addicting like smoking my first cigarette. I just want to keep kissing her until I can't breathe. And it scares me man." Han says, crunching on more chips.

Sean's eyebrow furrows when he realizes that you were gone and your normal guards are nowhere in sight. "Han, she's gone." Sean says. "Cut the shit. It's not funny."

"No, I'm serious. Look." Han looks at you were a few minutes ago to see . Little did they know that Hanseok tracked you down and followed them into the club.

He bought off Han's guards so you became easy access. Then he just pulled you into a room and shoved you in. Crawling away from him on the floor, you frantically searched for anything you could use as a weapon. Then your eyes fall on a mirror.

"You almost killed me, you know. Vincenzo nearly did it, but he was so caught up on making me suffer as you requested, that it gave me the chance to be saved." Hanseok explains, pulling off his hoodie to show his scarred body.

"Oh God," you whimper. "I'm going to enjoy this," He says, pulling a knife from his belt. You stand up in a wide stance and put your hands up so you could deflect his blows. Your hands were shaking, your worst nightmare has come to life but you can't forget what Vincenzo taught you after he left Korea.

He came to Japan to visit you and see how you were doing. In return for assisting with Hanseok's execution, he taught you how to defend yourself from any deadly weapon. "What? You really think you're going to fight me?"

"The days where I cower from you are over, Hanseok. You want to kill me? Go ahead and try." You snark, shifting your weight from one foot to the next as you waited for him to strike. "Where the hell could she be? She was just here!" Han snaps, looking around the crowd frantically.

You scrambled out of the room with blood sprayed across your neck from when she stabbed Hanseok in the chest with a piece of glass. He should be dead but knowing that he has a vendetta, he's not going to die so easily. You spot Han in the crowd and ran towards him.

"What the hell happened?" "H-hanseok, he's still alive. He tried to kill me." You whimpered, tears building in your eyes. "Where is he?" Han asked. You could see his eyes darken with anger but chose not to question it. You took his hand and followed him into the room where Hanseok held his chest heaving.

Han took out his phone to call DK who answered on the first ring. "Bring your gun. We have some business to take care of." Han says coldly. "Take her back to my place and don't leave her side until I get there." Han says to Sean, talking as if you weren't standing right there.

"No, I'm staying with you." You start, grabbing a hold of his arm. "I don't want you to see me like this," Han says, pulling his arm away hesitantly. "Come on, Y/N." Sean says and Han reassured, "I'll be fine." You nodded before following Sean to the car.

Hours passed and you were on the verge of taking Han's car and going back to the club when Han slowly walks through the door. Sean and you looked at him with wide eyes when you notice blood splattered across his clothes and face. He was practically drenched in it.

"You can take my car back home, Sean. I won't be leaving for a while." Han says softly and Sean nods his head, choosing not the say a word. He leaves the apartment and you spring to your feet. You try to cup his face to get a good look at him but he moves away.

"Han," "Let me get cleaned up first," he walks passed you and turns on the shower. You wait on the couch for him to finish his shower, chewing on the inside of your cheeks nervously. He finally walks back in with black sweatpants and a white tank top.

"I'm headed to bed. It's been a long day." He says. "Don't do that. Talk to me. Please." You say, standing in his way. "What happened?" You add.

"Do you really want to know?" "I want to know if you're okay." "Well I don't want to talk about it. Good night." He dismissed before walking upstairs to his room.

You respected his decision and decided to stay in the living room with a clear view of the door. Just in case Hanseok crawls out of his grave and finds his way back to you again. Truthfully, you didn't feel the need to sleep. But after you became hyper-vigilant of the door, your eyes closed on their own.

You woke to a soft hand touching your cheeks. Gasping away, you grab Han's hand. "Hey, relax, it's just me." He says and you loosen your grip on him. Sitting up, you tuck your knees into your chest. "What are you doing awake?" You ask.

"I couldn't sleep." He says, followed by a long silence. "Thank you, for doing that for me. I don't know how to repay you." You say. "You don't have to repay me." "Of course I do. What you did is traumatic. It'll effect you in ways I can't fix." "As long as you're by my side, Y/N. I can get through anything."

"Han," you start, but he turned your chin so you are facing him. "I love you," he says, making your heart flutter. You lean forward and pressed your lips to him. Piling yourself in his lap, you pull away to say, "I love you too."

He stands from the couch and carries you into the bedroom, occasionally pecking you on the way. He lays down on the bed and you straddled his lap. You unbuttoned your shirt and let it fall off your shoulders. Your hands found his chest but he sits up and rolls so you are laying on your back.

He glances down at your bare chest before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. Your head falls onto his soft pillow as he continued to work on your sensitive nub. He pulls away with a satisfying pop before blowing cool air and pressing a soft kiss to your nipple.

He does the same to the other breast and your back arches off of the bed, gasping when your clothes buckle rubs against his crotch. He kisses down the line of your stomach before pulling off your fleece shorts, leaving more kisses in it's wake. He settles himself in between your legs and props your legs on his shoulder.

"Oh God," you whine when he laps your folds painfully slow and kitten licks your clit before lapping your fold again. Your hand rakes through his fine hair and he links one of his hands with yours, resting it on your stomach. You rolled your hips at the same time his kitten licked you clit and your legs spasm as you release yourself into his mouth.

"You taste amazing, ojo." He says. He uses his thumb to part your folds before going to work on your clit much faster now. "Han! Oh God, oh God, oh God," you chant as your grip on his hair tightens and you lift your hips off the bed. He push you back down gently and unlinks his hand with yours so his body could shadow over yours.

His free hand rubs circles on your clit and you moan into his mouth. "Han, please." "Shh, chisana hana." You moan at his pet name for you. Little flower. I think it fits. He captures your lips in a slow kiss that you were so caught up in, you didn't even notice that he pulled off his pants and started to pump himself.

He gently parts your legs and slides the tip along your folds to gather your juices. He slides himself in and your toes curl as his dick brushes up against a sensitive spot in your pussy. He waits for you to adjust and you signal him to move by nodding softly. His thrust are slow but deep and he buries his face into your neck.

You rest your hands on his lower back and he continued to rub your clit as he thrusted into you. A whine leaves your lips as you come apart under him but he continues to thrust into you. He lifted one leg over his shoulder and kept the other one hooked around his waist.

Digging your nails into his back, he moans and arches his back, digging himself deeper into you. "Of fuck," he moans into your neck and thrusting into you faster until you came undone once again. You were seeing stars as he cums after three hard thrusts.

He pulls out of you and lays down next to you, nuzzling himself into you neck and leaves soft kisses. The entire time, it felt like you were floating on a cloud. His touches felt light as a feather but burned into your skin the more he touched you.

It was nothing like sex with Hanseok. Han puts your needs before his own and he actually takes care of you in ways you didn't even know were possible. "Can I tell you something?" "Sure," you lay on your side, resting your hand on the side of your face.

"I think I fell for you and it scares the hell out of me." He confesses and you reach over to trace the side of his face. He waits for you to say something and a soft smile plays on your lips. "I think I fell for you as soon as we met. But we don't have to rush anything. We have nothing but time." You say softly.

"Come here," he says,.opening his arms and you wrap your arms around his neck, hiking your leg over his waist.

#han lue #fastfurious #fluff #smut #vincenzo fic #vincenzo

203 notes · View notes

purplecandygerl · 3 years

Text

Fear

— Levi x Reader

— angst, fluff, mention of death, cursing

— summary: Levi never let his fear get in a way of his decision yet for this moment he did

— word count: 2.8k

It’s that time of the month once again, when Squad Leaders were given a tremendous quantity of paperwork to be finish in an unfair amount of time, Levi is unexcluded to this time but even worse for his part. A list of cadets where handed to him early on.

The list consist of mostly from the 104th cadets and his eyes soften at the familiar name included on the list. (Y/n) (L/n). All your efforts and hardship within the past month has finally paid off, he knew about your unspoken goal of wanting to be part of his squad long time ago. He couldn’t be much prouder of you ever since, considering you to his squad would definitely increase his time with you, he can already see himself having you by his side.

Content with list of candidate given to him, he decided to set it aside as he move on to another paperworks, his calloused hand reaches to the papers near him. The thick cursive heading made his breath hitched

Certification of Death

It felt like a hard slap to him as memories of the recent expedition flash before him as he passed through the forest seeing nothing, but the bloody corpses of his members brutally killed by the Female titan as tried to protect Eren till the end.

Worries began to fill him, he couldn’t bear to see you in those situation, this is the only thing that matters to his life and one wrong situation can slip you out of his grasp in a matter of seconds, yet he couldn’t afford any distraction in the moment of the expedition as the lives of the soldiers lies on his own hands, reaching for the list of candidates once again before crossing your name before stacking another paper above the list.

“Levi?” the sound of his name being called out as the door of his office shut close, revealing his (h/c) haired lover “not done yet?” he shook his head, “I see” he notice the lethargic tone you release as you sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face at the crook of his neck indulging on his scent. He lean onto his chair caressing the tresses of your (h/c) hair. “Did something happened?” he questioned, which you shake your head

“It’s nothing, I just want to ease your stress somehow” those words never failed to cause his heart to leap in adoration, he always thought there will be times that you would finally leave him seeing that he always lack of showing his affection to you, yet one year after \here you are showering him with affection at first, he would stiffen at the unpredicted kisses you place on his cheek during your private time until it become something that enlightens his sour mood daily.

Placing a kiss in your forehead, he wishes for you to forgive him for what he was planning to do. He could take all your anger at him if it meant to keep you alive by his side.

༺═──────────────═༻

The final members of Levi’s Squad was finally announced, the rush excitement you felt were shattered to piece as the roll out of names ended without getting your name called, the combination of anger, frustration and disappointment were enough to put you on the edge, clenching onto your fist as you tried to fight off the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Are you alright (Y/n)?” you heard your friend worriedly asked as you both head back inside the castle, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine” you immediately answered. “You should head first, I’ll catch up”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you” bidding a goodbye before heading to a certain office for explanation.

“Captain” you called out from the outside of his office, giving his permission for you to enter.

“Why?” The first word that left your lips were the conclusion of messed up emotion you were trying to endure. You knew that he knows what you were talking about, you know that he would be the person who gets to decide on the final list of the members.

“There are more suitable soldiers fitted in my squad”

“So, I’m not suitable for your squad. Is that it?” you hissed, how could he say that when he knew how much you work hard to be part of his squad

“Yes” you stared at him in disbelief as your whole body began to tremble holding yourself opening your lips only painful laughter were able to leave your dry throat, which surprised the man in front you.

“Fuck you, if that was the case you shouldn’t have gotten my hopes since the beginning, you shouldn’t have fucking care if I work myself up if that was the FUCKING CASE, WERE YOU LAUGHING JUST LIKE THEM WHEN SAW WATCH ME FUCKING STRUGGLES FOR NOTHING” you snapped out

“FUCK OFF, (Y/N) ISN’T THE ONLY REASON YOU WANTED TO JOIN WAS TOO HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO FUCKIN LAZED YOURSELF AROUND ME” He spat off, his mind was screaming at him to tell the truth already yet anything that left on his mouth is nothing truthful. He was spouting to stand for his decision. For a second, he tried to reason himself it was for you own good, it really is. Until his gaze returned back to you. He watched how tears drenched down your cheeks for the first time in his life he saw you cried. He could only stand on his feet frozen as you tried to brush off the tears blurring your vision.

“it was never about that case, I--” biting your inner lips, there’s no use for you tell him everything what’s the point of everything at this point, giving up. You only turned your back at him before shutting the door close.

As the sound of the door clicking shut was the only time he realized he fucked everything up, he wanted to follow you back yet he remained frozen on his feet, the silence on his office only left your voice echoing in his mind, every word you left a stabbing guilt and regrets on him. Was everything really necessary? For the sake of keeping you alive he had to hurt you in the process.

“were you laughing just like them” clenching his fist, how his way of showing his affection were seen in a different, only then he realized someone was thinking so lowly of your effort yet it only returned back to him knowing you think he was just like them.

A knock on his door, snaps him back to his thoughts. “What?” he didn’t bothered hiding his irritation to the soldier disturbing him “S-sir, Commander Erwin called you to his office sir”

“What do you mean my squad would be on standby? I thought we would be leading for the clearing up tomorrow?” Erwin sighed, it turns out only two squads would be leaving tomorrow to examine the behaviour of the titans before clearing up the titan near the wall.

“I see, then who’s squad would you be sending instead?” he asked, taking a sip on his tea, surprisingly glad he had a free time which he would dedicated on asking for your forgiveness.

“(L/n) William’s Squad”

༺═──────────────═༻

It was supposed to be a clear up for the remaining titans roaming across the abandoned city, only expecting atleast twenty or less titans left, yet when you encounter a horde of abnormal titans gathered in the deeper corner of the city, you knew this can be the last of something. Right now, the titan’s attention were averted from you with the quantity they had you wouldn’t be able to take them all with the lack of gas and blade, if you fire the flare gun to sign the soldiers around you, the titan’s attention would directly be place to you which would lead to the first option. Lastly, if you tried to escape you will most likely lead them to the other soldiers.

Not only your choices are limited but everything is too risky for you and the other members.

“Fuck this shit” firing your flare gun instead of pointing the gun at the sky, you fire the flare at the titans instead before releasing your hook leading back to where your squadmates are, in the center of the city you found a familiar figure the vibrant red covering him.

“William!” You shouted turning his gaze his eyes widen as you fired your hook on the concrete walls in attempt to carry him “Wait no! AT YOUR BACK” he tried to warn, before you can process his warning a giant palm slaps your body like a fly.

the impact of being thrown inside of a building breaking the window in the process, a static rings across your ears as every part of your body is throbbing in pain, opening your eyes only to feel a burning pain with a blurry eyesight reminding you much of the arguments yesterday, recalling back the words you let out that time. Maybe, maybe they were right,

“Just this last time, let me see them” you speak to yourself, trying to stand up every movement you make felt like you were being electrified in pain, stabbing your blade on the ground using it as foundation for your footing. Feeling the ground continuous shaking, losing balance, hitting the concrete floor hard, a sharp pain once again pierce through you, causing you to whimper in unbeknownst to you a sharp wood stab through your abdomen, leaving you crumbling in pain on the ground the sight of shards of glass soaked a puddle of blood. was the only thing you have seen before blacking out

I was never suitable to be here in the first place.

༺═──────────────═༻

Levi anxiously waited on his seat, no matter how much he tried to focus on the meeting between regiments he found himself drifting back to your situation, despite already reminding a soldier to immediately call him when your group arrived, yet several hours have passed and the meeting is already reaching its conclusion.

“Captain!! They’re here” A soldier barged inside the office, disregarding Erwin calling him out he wasted no time to leave the meeting,

“They’re at the Medical Bay for now.” the soldier reported,

“How are they?” he noticed the grim look on the soldier confirming his fear all at once

“one of the squad were completely leaving only one soldier in critical condition” dismissing the soldier he immediately head to the medical bay, every step he make felt heavy as if the world had collapse at his grasp. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Levi” a familiar voice called out, hanji was waiting in front of the medical bay door, “Is she?” the jumbled emotion he’s feeling couldn’t continue the question he needed answers for, luckily Hanji quickly understand his struggles

“It turns out that there were more titan than what was initially reported, their squad had to face a horde of abnormal titans as we split up. We only found her inside of a building after a flare was shot. She was thrown by a titan trying to save her brother, a large wood pierce through her abdomen at the same time she already lose too much blood, the moment we found her” Hanji saw the grim expression from Levi, as he quietly listen the events that had happen, the fear, guilt, and regrets shown directly to his metallic irises. For once, Hanji saw a vulnerable side of Levi, a man so close losing a part of him leaving him once again alone.

A few hour has passed, when the door has finally opened as a doctor step out of the room, looking around the doctor only find him alone waiting.

“Captain Levi, are you perhaps the relative for Miss (L/n) (Y/n)?”

“Yes” leading him inside the medical bay, his eyes quivered at the sight of your figure wrapped in white pristine bandage up until your neck and another to covering your eyes. your pale like skin made it you look like “the progress of the surgery were slightly complicated due to the loss of blood but overall, the surgery was a success” Levi felt a relief wash over him, hearing how his lover is still alive felt like a heavy burden were lifted from his shoulder,

“at least that’s the good news, but the condition of her eyes had receive a different outcome”

“What do you mean?”

“Not only her abdomen where severely injured but also her eyes, shards of glass were able to damage her pupil that may became a permanent blindness, overall she needs to stay bedridden in three weeks before we can discharge her” the doctor explained, Levi remained stiff on his feet, his mind tried to comprehend the information given to him, blind? You wouldn’t be able to see anything from now on? You wouldn’t be able to see him?

Sitting beside your bed, his hand grasp to your bandage covered hand, entwining his fingers to yours, the coldness of your hands gave discomfort to his, it felt like he was holding onto a lifeless body the coldness of your body felt uncanny it might be because he was used to having your warm hands to his cold calloused hand. Pressing a kiss to your knuckle seeing the pattern of your chest rising and falling, was the only thing he need for now. Your alive that’s all that matters to him.

༺═──────────────═༻

Despite how much he doesn’t want to leave by your side yet with the constant nag from Erwin, it’s the third week you’ve remained unconscious, your temperature had increases in the spam of time yet it still frustrated him seeing no sign of waking up. He wanted nothing more but to hear your voice again. Placing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers his goodbye.

That was several hours ago, the sound of someone screaming from the top of their lungs had reached from the hallway he was in, either way he continue onto his path back to medical bay reaching closer the screams become clearer.

“IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ALIVE” the woman angrily yelled out, nurses already had their hands around her preventing the woman from getting closer

“MISS PLEASE STOP SHE’S STILL RECOVERING” one of the nurses begged at the woman “NO LET ME GO” she demanded wanting to remove the grasp around her, she was able to pull you out of your bed earlier leaving you on the floor. Her hand was able to reach to your hair tugging it off roughly pulling you to her.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO US IN THE FIRST PLACE YOU WOULDN’T BE LEFT LIKE THAT?!”

“what do you think you’re doing?” Levi intervened slapping the woman’s wrist away sending a glare at the older woman while holding you at his arm protectively, the people The bandage on your eyes has already been removed, showing those eyes he long for were finally wide and awake.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! I’M HER MOTHER I KNOW WHAT’S THE BEST FOR HER”

“I don’t care, your daughter is already adult enough to know what’s best for herself. you two” he called out the two-soldier passing by.

“guide the guardian her way out of the castle” obeying the captain’s order, the two already hand their hand to the exit, waiting for the woman to follow looking back at the two of you, clicking her tongue in irritation before following the soldiers.

After your mother left, his attention immediately turned to you carrying you at his arms placing you back to your bed, no words were exchanged during that time. Hugging your knees, leaning your head at the top. He wanted to say something, anything yet he couldn’t bring himself to left words out afraid he might hurt you once again.

“Let’s end this here, Levi”

Levi’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” He mumbled, afraid his voice might cracked any moment.

“There’s no point on continuing this”

“How?” your hand clutches on the white blanket covering your lower half, holding back the tears from building on your cloudy eyes.

“CANT YOU SEE?! I LOST MY EYESIGHT I’M ALREADY USELESS AT THIS POINT” snapping at him, the frustration you’ve been feeling since the moment you woke up and being informed by your condition finally took its last trigger and burst.

“I’m sorry” feeling his warm calloused hand at yours “I thought removing you from the list would keep you safer than the circumstance we had. I’m scared (y/n), I cannot bear to see you the same position that my old squad had that time, you’re an amazing soldier. I never mean what I said before”

“It doesn’t matter now, I can’t be a soldier anymore” removing his grasp from you

“Please just leave”

#levi ackerman #captain levi #anime #aot levi #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi aot #levi x reader #aot x you #levi x you #female reader #x reader #reader insert

166 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism

Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.

Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.

Introduction:

Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.

Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.

Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:

Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.

To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.

Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.

For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.

Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:

Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.

To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.

One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.

We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?

What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).

Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.

Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).

Moreau + The Reservoir

Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.

Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.

Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.

Heisenberg + The Factory

Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.

Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.

Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:

The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.

In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.

The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?

Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).

Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...

Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:

Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.

Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.

Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.

Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.

When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.

There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!

#mother miranda #mia winters #ethan winters #rosemary winters #resident evil: village #re8 village #god what do I tag this as

97 notes · View notes

novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Word count: 1232

Genre: floofy fluff

Request: No ;3

Warnings: None that I can think of? Lemme know if there is tho :)

Based on this quote even though it has so little to do with the actual story XD - “I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

You were well and truly trapped. The mission had gone south, one bad call after another had led you to where you were presently. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. It's why SHIELD had decided to send only you, Natasha, and Wanda - leaving a lower-level agent in charge of the plane. It was a test run for you as you were the newest on the team and a refresher for Wanda, making sure her team skills were up to scratch with Natasha there as a glorified babysitter. The building was supposed to be mostly abandoned, a few HYDRA goons here and there to get target practice in but that was it.

Of course SHIELD had to have sent you in with bad information. This was your time to shine, to perform to the best of your abilities so a certain spy might notice you. Considering you were surrounded by some of the best in the business and a literal mindreader, you were quite proud that your little crush had gone unnoticed. Sure, you couldn't string more than two sentences together when Natasha spoke to you directly but she hopefully just thought you were a social recluse.

"Damn it. Did they not know they don't literally have to be a damned hydra. It's okay for one head to be chopped off and another not grow back." You spoke into your earpiece as you slit another hydra throat.

Chuckles rang back into your ear and for a second you forgot how to breathe. Natasha's gruff bark of laughter was the prettiest thing you'd ever heard.

Oh man. You had it bad.

You had it so bad that you briefly forgot you were behind enemy lines. That was, at least, until a bullet whizzed past your ear. That snapped you out of your daze pretty quickly. Not fast enough for you to dodge the bullet coming straight for your shoulder though. The pain that rippled through you was hot but not as hot as the annoyance of being shot at was. You sent a single bullet straight through the head of the goon who shot you first.

"Guys I've got some good news and some bad news."

"If you've got bullet holes in that new suit, Tony is literally going to kill you." Wanda spoke, her accent softening the words.

"Well, I guess I better start telling you what kind of flower arrangements I'd like for my funeral." You joked as you slowly made it to the extraction point.

"Don't die agent y/l/n"

"Damn. So formal. Lighten up Natty, I won't make you do a speech if you don't want to. I will, however, make sure Wanda mentions that in my final hours, you were so very cold and distant." Apparently being shot at gave you the confidence boost you very much needed in order to actually speak to Natasha.

"Hang on, I remember you literally stabbed Clint's hand when he called you Tashie and he's known you for years."

"Well, Clint wasn't delirious with bloodloss Wanda." A few more shots went off. "Head to the extraction point you two. We got what we came for."

Once we were all on the jet, Natasha started bandaging up your wound, careful not to touch it unnecessarily.

“I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

"Wow. Thank you y/n Don't blame the guy who shot you, blame the person trying to fix you up. You know if you would just sit still..."

You suddenly noticed how close you were to Natasha's plump lips. How easy it would be to just lean in slightly and capture them. With that in mind, you subconsciously began to move forward, feeling her lean in too, until a rough patch of turbulence placed some much-needed distance between you two. You could have sworn you heard Wanda mutter damn it but it was probably just your thoughts projecting.

~~~~~

By the time you had made it back to the tower, everyone had heard the news of how Natasha allowed you to live after calling her Natty.

"...even bandaged her up" Steve's voice echoed down the hallway as you, Wanda and Natasha made your way from the mission de-briefing. Maria had wanted you to go straight to medical but you had managed to convince her that not only was the job Natasha did good enough, but that Natasha was quite possibly in the wrong line of work considering her stitching was so good.

As you walked into the main living area, F.R.I.D.A.Y. started to play that "k.i.s.s.i.n.g" song that children sing.

"You are a CHILD TONY STARK!" Natasha shouted out. "I am going to kill him in the most painful ways possible."

"Well did you? Because from the interesting texts a young witch has sent, you came pretty close. " Tony sauntered out from an unknown location, standing in the center of the room with nothing but pyjama bottoms, a housecoat and a glass of what looked like whiskey. What happened next was pretty fast. Natasha launched herself at the billionaire. Steve tried to grab her midair as the whiskey came dangerously close to spilling over the sides of the glass. Natasha slid under Steve's legs and attached herself to Tony, putting him in a chokehold.

"One more word and you won't live to see another day."

You watched this all unfold and suddenly it dawned on you that perhaps the reason an international spy hadn't noticed your crush was because she was too focused on hiding her own.

"You're right you know." Wanda spoke quietly, watching Steve try to pry Natasha off a gasping Tony. "Literally everyone but you two could see that you have feelings for each other. We have bets going on. If you kiss her now, I win." She nudged me towards them with a wink "No pressure though. Although, if you were to help me win the bet, I'd split the money. All I really want are the bragging rites. Unless... that is you want Tony to win?"

You couldn't let Tony win. Over your cold dead body. With determination in your step, you walked over to where the supersoldier was still trying to save a now purple Tony. Natasha looked at you, loosening her hold just a fraction and you leaned in and kissed her. Sure, it was one of the most awkward positions you'd kissed someone in but it was worth it. Natasha let go of Tony instantly but only to wrap her arms around your neck and waist, pulling you deeper. Wanda clapping and whooping pulled the two of you from your trance. Your cheeks were as red as Natasha's hair and even the unflappable Natasha Romanoff was slowly turning the same shade as her hair.

"God damn it y/n You couldn't have waited a week." Tony threw his hands up in exasperation, a teasing look in his eye.

"Of course not. Wands had to win."

"I don't care what this is about. Come on y/n I'm taking you on a proper date. Right after we change out of these clothes." Natasha grabbed me by the hand.

She then stopped abruptly, dropping your hand "That is, if you want to?"

You picked her hand back up, smiling at her "Of course I do."

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff fluff

219 notes · View notes

adhduck · 3 years

Text

Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend

AO3

(Major spoilers for rqg 207)

Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.

He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.

“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”

Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.

Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”

Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”

“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”

“Half of it, maybe.”

Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.

[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.

Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.

The creature doesn’t even flinch.

It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.

“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”

They just need to get him through the door.]

There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.

Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”

Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”

So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”

Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”

Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.

[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded – and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.

We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.

Then, it raises its blade.]

Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”

”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”

Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”

Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”

Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”

“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.

Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”

“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”

“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.

[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.

The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.

Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.

At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]

Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”

Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”

“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”

“Ain’t you got allergies?”

“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”

Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.

[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.

The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.

Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]

“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.

It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.

“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.

Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”

“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”

[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.

He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]

There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.

“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”

“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”

Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”

[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.

“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]

Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”

“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”

“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”

[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.

She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.

In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]

Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde’s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.

“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]

Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”

[There is only one person left.]

“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re

[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.

Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?

Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.

Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.

His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.

Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.

The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.

And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]

The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.

Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.

If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”

In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”

Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.

For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”

#this fic and i did hand-to-hand combat for NEARLY TWO WEEKS before i bested it #please appreciate it in my honor #rqg #rusty quill gaming #zoscar #rqg wilde #rqg oscar wilde #lolomg #cel sidebottom #rqg azu #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #zolf smith #rqg 207 #rqg fic #zoscar fic #rqg fanfiction #zoscar fanfiction

67 notes · View notes