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walkerwords · 3 years

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“Lookin’ Out For Her” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: MTV/AMC

Request from Anonymous: Hello! I loved Walker Words, it was so well written! Could I request a Daryl x reader where the reader gets hurt and Daryl is the one to patch her up? Give her stitches and bandage her up and the like. If you wanted to keep going and have him take care of her and help her with everyday things while she heals that would be super sweet. Just craving some super fluffy care! Thank you!! Xoxo

Word Count: 4516

Warning: Swearing, Injury, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Is This Love" by Corinne Bailey Rae

Note: And we are BACK. Thank you for requesting this!

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The Virginian sun was beating down on everyone’s necks as you worked in the lumber yard just outside of Alexandria.

Abraham had recruited you to help the Alexandrians build up their community. You didn't think it was that important but you said "yes" nonetheless. You had been travelling with your group for a while now. Meeting them on the road, Carl, Rick’s son, had saved you from a Walker that had pinned you to the ground. According to the young man, they had just lost their farm to a horde and were looking for a new place to stay.

It was then that you noticed his pregnant mother and wanted to help.

You hadn’t wanted to be near other people since the beginning of the end, but you had a good feeling about the Grimes family and their people. You were with them when Rick discovered the prison and you hadn’t looked back.

While you were close with Rick, Carl, Michonne, Rosita, and others, Daryl was someone that you had connected with unexpectedly. Daryl Dixon was an enigma, but one you loved to try and figure out. He was someone who you never would have bonded with if it hadn’t been for the end of the world, but everyday you were grateful for him and the way he always seemed to be looking out for you.

There was something unspoken between the two of you and any time that you were apart, you were constantly looking over you shoulder in hopes of spotting the archer. Just as you were now as you worked near Abraham, cutting into the timber that would help reinforce the walls of your new home.

“Who would’ve thought?” Ford said as he called out to you.

“What’s that, Red?” you called back, looking at him through the bright rays of sun that shone down on you.

“You,” Abraham said. “Who would’ve thought you’d be into all of this?”

“Construction?” you asked, raising your brows.

“No,” he said with a shit-eating grin, “helping.” Your mouth opened in shock at his jab, not finding it particularly funny.

“Hilarious,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Abraham just began laughing, enjoying himself. You began to ignore him as you tried to hide your own smile when the sound of growls reached your ears. “Fantastic,” you said with a sigh as you leaned over to pick up your weapon, an extra-sharp machete that Rick had given you after the events of Terminus.

The Walkers came from the South in a group, all meandering towards the site. “Stay sharp!” Ford yelled as he grabbed a knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. While you had your guns, nobody wanted to use ammo if they didn’t have to. The Alexandrians were worried, shuffling back as the Walkers approached, but you and Abraham moved to the front.

You began taking them down quickly with a few slashes of your blade. Two larger Walkers backed you up until your back hit a pile of stacked lumber. You took out the first, but the second moved too fast, falling into you. You fell back, hitting your head on the edge of the wood as you went down. The Walker landed on your arm, pressing it into the metal stake keeping the wood tied together. Groaning out in pain, you shoved your blade into the side of the Walker’s head and shoved it off with disgust.

“(Y/N)!” Abraham yelled as he ran towards you. He took out the last Walker with a swing of his hammer before arriving at your side. “Ya alright, girl?”

“Fine,” you grunted, taking the hand Abraham stretched out for you to grab. Abraham pulled you to your feet and you ignored the pounding behind your eyes as you brushed sawdust off your jeans.

“Are you sure that you are okay?” he asked, slipping into his sergeant mode.

“Abe, I am alright,” you said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Few bumps and bruises ain’t gonna keep me down.”

“Well, just head back alright? We’re gonna be headin’ inside any minute now,” he ordered.

“I can help clean up,” you said, but he was shaking his head.

“(Y/N), go,” he said and with a sigh, you saluted the man, picked up your machete, and turned back towards Alexandria.

-------

Arriving back home, you tried to keep steady on your feet, but it was becoming more difficult with each step.

Nodding to Rick and Glenn who were speaking to Spencer, you continued on towards the house that you were sharing with the Grimes, Michonne, and Daryl. In the distance, you could see Judith being carried around by an amused Tara who swung her around on her hip, trying to make the little girl laugh.

The ache in your head was the only thing distracting you from the searing pain in your arm. You could also feel thick blood starting to saturate the sleeve of your shirt, but you did your best to ignore it. If you could manage to get home and up to the bathroom unseen, everything would work out. The last thing you needed was for one of your friends to clock your injuries.

Climbing up the steps to the house, you relaxed as it sounded empty. Dropping the façade, you let the pain show on your face for just a second, but a second was all it took for him to notice.

“What’s wrong with ya?” Daryl said from a quiet spot on the porch. Still not used to how silent the man could be, you jumped out of your skin at his deep voice.

“Fucking hell, Daryl!” you exclaimed, grabbing at your chest with your bad arm which only made you wince further. “Way to scare the hell out of me.” Daryl, who had been cleaning his bow, got to his feet and approached you, his brows drawn together.

“Are ya gonna answer my question?” he asked, looking you over. Suddenly feeling somewhat shy, you took a step back from him, turning so your bad arm was further out of sight.

“Walkers came up on us at the lumber spot,” you explained. “Everyone’s fine, but I got knocked down. It’s nothing.”

“Is it also nothin’ that you can’t keep to stand still without staggerin’?” Daryl noticed, gesturing down at your feet. Glancing down, you saw a dizzying pattern of dirty bootprints as if you had horribly failed at a field sobriety test after a night out.

“I…” you tried as the pain increased. “I may have hit my head on the way down.”

“Mmhmm. Come on,” Daryl said as he took your arm to keep you steady and led you into the house.

“I can walk, Daryl,” you complained.

“Yeah, into a wall maybe,” he said with a scoff. You frowned, but didn’t pull away as he took you to the room that he had claimed on the first level.

Daryl’s room was quite neat, but considering none of you had many belongings, it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. Clothes were strewn across a single chair in the corner while his leather jacket was thrown on the unmade bed. Bolts for his bow, old and new, were on a table in front of the window, and tools for the bike Aaron had given him were tossed on top of the dresser.

It was very…Daryl.

“Sit,” he ordered, helping you to the edge of the mattress.

“Yes, Sir,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Daryl mirrored the motion before leaving the room quickly. You sat there awkwardly as Daryl went to fetch the medical kit. Being in his room alone, you felt as if you were in high school and in a boy’s room for the first time.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you chastised yourself. This was Daryl, your friend, your partner when it came to runs or watch. However this was also Daryl, the man that had bewitched you body and soul. “Easy there, Darcy,” you said, shaking your head, trying to dislodge your Austen fantasy.

“What?” Daryl asked as he returned with the supplies.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, averting your eyes. Daryl just hummed a response before sitting next to you and then gesturing for you to remove the flannel shirt you wore over your tank top. Carefully, you pulled down the sleeve and then slipped the shirt off your shoulder, the blood sticking to the fabric. The fresh wound snagged on the threads, causing you to hiss out in pain, but eventually you got it off. “Damn,” you swore, finally getting a look at the cut from the stake.

“Not exactly shallow,” Daryl said, examining the wound. “It’s gonna leave a scar.”

“What else is new?” you said as a ringing entered your ears. You rubbed at one of them, trying to dislodge the annoying sound.

“That’s what I thought,” Daryl said.

“What?” you asked as Daryl began wiping away the extra blood with a towel.

“Ears ringin’, right?”

“Maybe…” you said, very aware of how his fingers moved across your blood-speckled skin.

“Probably a concussion. The dizziness, ringin’, headache that I know ya got… irritability,” he said with a look and you swatted at him. “All shit ya get from a concussion.” You sighed deeply, not liking how the day was going. The last thing you needed was to be benched with your family in a new environment. You weren’t the best fighter, but you were damn good at surviving and you had to stay sharp.

Daryl finished removing the blood before grabbing the needle and thread. Looking away, you stared at your boots as he tugged your skin back together. “Needles make ya sick?” he said with amusement in his voice.

“No, but watching you stitch my flesh back together ain’t a walk in the park,” you said and then Daryl had an even softer touch.

“Almost done,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb above the wound, trying to soothe you and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. “If you don’t tell people when you’re hurt, how are we supposed to help ya?” he asked.

“It’s not your job,” you said, not really thinking it through.

“Like hell it’s not,” Daryl shot back, but his tone remained calm. “We look out for each other, (Y/N). That’s what we do.”

“I know,” you said, letting out another deep breath. “M’sorry.” Daryl tied off the last stitch and cut it before reaching for the bandage. You looked back just as he smoothed the sterile gauze over your arm, pressing it down firmly. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Daryl didn’t respond. Instead, he ran his hand down your arm until it got to your hand. Slipping his fingers into yours, he intertwined your hands together, rubbing his calloused fingers against your own.

You sat like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe, feeling the pressure of his hands in yours. This happened occasionally and you weren’t exactly sure what it meant. Daryl would sit next to you, press his leg into yours or even reach down and take your hand.

Back at the prison, he would just enter your cell and sit next to you. Even on the road, sometimes, he’d take your hand as you walked, letting it swing between the two of you. Daryl never spoke, but he always made sure to add some pressure, as if letting you know that he was there. A part of you never wanted to look into it further. You all had seen some horrible things and you knew everyone needed to feel grounded.

Daryl gravitated towards you to feel...something, you just weren’t sure what that was yet.

“You know,” you whispered, leaning into him a bit, “there is a doctor here.” Daryl’s grip tightened then, almost as if he was afraid you were about to run. Looking up at you, his eyes were blue fire as he stared into your own.

“And you ain’t goin’ anywhere near that son of a bitch,” Daryl said. “He ain’t layin’ a single hand on ya, not after what I know what he does to that wife of his.”

“Daryl,” you said, trying to keep him calm, “Pete’s not gonna hurt me.”

“I know he’s not,” he said. “Because I’d kill him if he did, I don’t care who the hell he is.”

“Is that you lookin’ out for me?” you asked, reaching up with your other hand to brush a strand of hair from his eye.

“Just don’t go to him, (Y/N),” Daryl said. “Alright?” If he was one to say “please”, you figured he was about to.

“I could have a concussion, remember?” you pointed out, still feeling the blooming migraine.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he said. “Herschel told me how to handle that. You’re gonna stay here with me tonight. I gotta keep wakin’ ya up so you don’t end up in a damn coma.”

“Is that the only reason?” you asked, testing the waters. Daryl looked at you with a raised brow.

“It’s the one I’m giving ya for now,” Daryl said.

“Just for now?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a quick jut of his chin. You nodded and then leaned against him, feeling the pain echoing through your body. Daryl looped his other arm around your shoulder as you began to drift off. “I got ya, (Y/N),” he whispered as fatigue finally took over and you slumped into the man at your side.

-------

Daryl kept his word and made sure that he woke you up throughout the night.

Any time his hand shook your shoulder, pulling you from your dreamless sleep, you awoke to his gentle face aglow by the camping lantern. He’d ask your pain level and make you drink water.

Afterwards, Daryl would get you to lay back down, smooth his hand over the side of your head, and you would fall right back to sleep. When he woke you up for the third time, you noticed a makeshift ashtray sitting on the window sill of the open window, the smoke filtering out into the night. Having known Daryl for a while, you knew what it looked like when he was taking watch.

“Get some sleep,” you whispered as you rolled over to face him as he walked back towards his perch.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I got hours yesterday.”

“Liar,” you mumbled, already fading. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep again was Daryl leaning back against the window frame, his eyes on you as he flicked his cigarette in his fingers.

In the morning, your head felt a bit better, but your arm was killing you. Hissing in pain, you opened your eyes and rolled onto your back. Shadows danced on the ceiling from the sunrise and the breeze that floated through Alexandria.

“Mornin’,” Daryl said from his spot by the window.

“Were you there all night?” you asked, sitting up.

“Nah, took care of Judith a couple of times,” he said with a shrug.

“Daryl…” you sighed, shaking your head.

“It’s nothin’,” he said, waving you off. Getting up, he walked over to where you were and sat down next to you. From his pocket he pulled a pen light of all things.

“Where did you find that?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Carl grabbed it from asshole’s office,” Daryl explained as he clicked it on and raised it before your eyes.

“Do you even know what you’re doin’?” you asked.

“Just follow the light,” he said with a huff and so you did. Daryl checked out your pupils to make sure neither was blown and then stowed the light away. “Arm,” he ordered, grabbing the medical kit from the side table. Moving your arm felt like moving a ton of bricks. Then pain was bad from the wound, but your muscles felt as if needles had been going in them for hours. “Swelling went down a bit,” Daryl said as he gently prodded the skin. “Maybe we can find some meds for the inflammation. I’ll see what we got here.”

“Who would’ve thought?” you said as he changed the bandage on your arm.

“What?”

“Doctor Dixon,” you mused with a grin. Daryl rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Shut up,” he said, but you could tell he found it funny.

“Guess I’m banned from helping with the lumber for a bit,” you said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” he said. “Ford’s orders.”

“Well, I ain’t about to sit here all day and do nothin’,” you said as he finished his task. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stood up, testing your balance. When you were satisfied enough with the results, you went in search of your own room, desperate for a change of clothes.

“Don’t fall!” Daryl called as you exited the room. You sent him a rude gesture over your shoulder, making him laugh. After only tripping twice, you managed to get to your room, grab some new clothes, and hit the shower. It was a hassle keeping your arm dry under the constant spray of water, but you managed well-enough.

Once you were dressed and feeling somewhat human again, you headed back down stairs to only be met with Daryl. “You need to take it easy,” he said.

“I’m not going to go hunting Walkers, Daryl,” you said, carefully pulling on your boots. “Maybe Olivia or Aaron could use some help. I know Gabriel has been wanting to get the church back together.”

“Great, let’s go,” he said, leaning against the front door.

“You taggin’ along?” you asked, pulling yourself up.

“I gotta make sure ya don’t collapse and take someone down with ya,” he said. With a quick laugh, you placed your knife in its sheath and approached him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, you moved him out of the way.

“Mmhmm,” you said with a smirk, “well, come on then, Doc,” you teased.

“Oh my god…” he said, but followed you nonetheless.

-----

For most of the day, Daryl was by your side.

No matter what you were doing, he was there. Once you had convinced Gabriel to let you help him, he had you moving some things from Scott’s garage and into the church. Daryl, however, wasn’t on board with all the physical activity you were doing. So, instead of letting you carry the heavy boxes, he was there taking the weight himself.

Daryl helped you carry anything over a few pounds and if you were being honest with yourself, you were rather enjoying him being so protective. He continued to help you the entire time you were doing errands for the priest and even when Deanna asked you to help move some files from the basement for Maggie to review, Daryl was there.

He never once complained, but he was talking more than usual. As you completed the tasks for the day, Daryl was asking you questions about your life before the Apocalypse. He wanted to know where you grew up, if you had any siblings, and even what your parents were like. You knew a lot about his upbringing, but you never really spoke about your own. Still, with every question, you answered him honestly and it actually felt nice to talk about your family.

When he asked about what those first few months after the firebombs dropped on the cities were like, you began to grow quieter. As with everyone you had met in the new world, you had lost people from the first day the Dead began to rise and it hadn’t stopped. You told Daryl about the first people you had met on the road, the ones who had been slaughtered by a group of the Dead as you were escaping the city. It was then that you had decided to take on the world alone if possible.

That is until the fateful day in which you met Carl Grimes.

When Daryl asked about any fears you had, you began to laugh. “What’s so damn funny?” he asked as you sat next to him in Aaron’s garage as he worked on the bike. He didn’t want to let you out of his sight and you knew he needed to get some grease on his hands before the day was over.

“I guess I just never thought we would ever have to talk about our fears again, ya know? Aren’t we all scared of the same thing these days? The Dead, assholes with guns...each other.”

“Each other?” Daryl echoed. “What do ya mean by that?”

“How well do we really know each other? Eugene lied to us for weeks, Tara was with the Governor, and even the people here are unknowns. I don’t know, Daryl, I guess if I had to talk about any fears it’d be that I’m scared that I don’t know how to trust anyone anymore.”

“That ain’t a bad thing,” Daryl said. “Best to always be on alert, that way ya don’t end up dead or worse.”

“It’s exhausting,” you admitted, rubbing at your temples.

“Pain?” Daryl asked as soon as he noticed.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“(Y/N),” he said, wiping the grease from his hands and crouching down in front of you, gently lifting your chin to look in your eyes. “Tell me.”

“About a seven,” you admitted.

“It was lower a few hours ago,” he said with a frown.

“Guess I’ve been working harder than I thought,” you said, resting your head in his hand. Daryl reached back and grabbed his canteen.

“Drink,” he ordered and you did, sipping the water slowly. Reaching out, he smoothed a hand over your hair gently. “Better?” he asked.

“Bit,” you admitted. Daryl withdrew his hand then and left you to finish the water, trying to get your hydration back to where it should be. Leaning back against the workbench, you watched as he worked, his shoulders tense as he pulled at gears or unscrewed bolts.

Daryl was always in his element when he worked on mechanics. You remembered the first time you saw him working on one of the cars at the prison. He had seemed so absorbed in everything he was doing, happy to be providing for his new family.

You knew enough about cars to get by, but you could always learn more and so you observed him whenever you could. Watching Daryl rebuild cars or work on Merle’s bike was one of the main reasons you began to grow closer to each other.

He looked up from his work then, feeling your eyes on him and he gave you a crooked grin, one that was rare, but one you loved so much.

-----

As day turned to night, Daryl helped you get home.

The dizziness was back in waves and so he had you by the arm as you walked through the streets of Alexandria. He had tried to carry you, but after refusing over and over, he had relented to just holding you up, keeping a firm grip on you.

As soon as you entered the house, Michonne and Rick were in the kitchen, making food for the house. “Long day?” Rick asked as you moved past him.

“Too long,” you said, slumped against Daryl.

“Come on,” Daryl said, “you’re about to crash and burn.” You waved at Rick and Michonne as Daryl all but dragged you back to his room. As soon as you saw the bed, you nearly wept in relief. Daryl had been right, you should have stayed home. “Hungry?” he asked.

“No,” you said as you sat down. Daryl kneeled down and began to unlace your boots as you held your bruised arm to your chest, trying to relieve some of the pain. “I should get hurt more often if this is the kind of treatment Daryl Dixon gives me,” you said with a lazy smile. Daryl looked at you with an exhausted look.

“Let’s not, alright?” he said as he finished with your boots.

“Yes, Sir,” you said as you flopped back onto the bed. Daryl got up and joined you, sitting next to you. With your good arm, you reached up and tugged him down beside you, his body lying alongside yours. Turning your head to look at him, he was already looking at you through messy strands of hair.

Slowly, you lifted up your hand and offered it to him. Daryl took it in his own and laced your fingers together, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your hands are warm,” you said in the low light of the room, your voice barely above a whisper as if it would crack the tension.

“Yours are cold,” he said back, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “I should check your arm,” he said, but you shook your head.

“It can wait,” you whispered, looking into those blue eyes of his as he pinned you to the planet with his gaze. “Thank you, for lookin’ out for me today,” you said, tightening your hold on his hand.

“Always,” he said. “I’m always gonna be there for ya.” You gave him a small smile then as a shiver took over your body. “Cold?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Bit,” you said with a shrug. Daryl reached behind him and grabbed one of the blankets and draped it over you, careful not to let go of your hand the entire time. His other arm was pressed to your side as he tried to adjust the blanket, but it lingered, adding pressure to your body. “Stay,” you whispered to him.

“This is my room,” he said, looking down at you.

“Smartass,” you said, trying not to break his gaze.

“I ain’t going anywhere,” he said as he sat up a bit higher and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was gentle, but warm, his lips leaving a spot of heat on your skin. When he pulled back, you locked eyes with him again before slipping your hand out of his and reaching up to drag your fingers through his hair. Getting to his neck, you pulled him down to you and he met you there, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. His lips were heavy on yours and he tasted exactly as you had imagined.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “Your head needs to heal,” he whispered, not wanting to move any further away from you.

“My mind has never been more clear,” you said, grabbing his face again. “Kiss me, Doc,” you said and with a chuckle, he did.

Daryl lay with you, kissing you, holding you, and never once leaving your side as you finally succumbed to sleep, your body desperately needing to heal. Looking down at you in the low light of the lantern, he promised that would never let you go, not now, not ever.

He had asked you about your fears, but you hadn’t asked him about his. In truth, he was only scared of one thing and that was losing you.

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @yes-sir-hotchner @lucillethings @stark-dreams @huffledor-able541

#Twd imagines #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #walker words #twd fanfiction

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shooting-starry · 3 years

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Trust me. Love me. Shoot me

Atsumu Miya x female reader

Warning: extremely unedited, mentioned blood, implied fire, implied violence,

Previous//Next

Well almost perfect. The only problem was that he didn’t own any silk sheets. He had scratchy cotton ones. In alarm, Atsumu sat up straight and looked around the room. He was is a room with lightly coloured walls and a few plants which hung from the ceiling. Beside the door was a body length mirror with two coat hooks beside it. Next to where he sat was a beige bedside table with two drawers and a single daisy in a small glass jar and 2 doors which he guessed led to the closet. Directly across from him was a desk with a small stack of books, a spiral bounded notebook, and a few pens. It was all crazy. How did he end up in this strange room, that was not his. And what baffled him more was the fact that he was on a bed. With silk sheet?!

Still in confusion, he walked up to the mirror, wearing the slippers that were left by the bed. The distance could not have been more than 3 meters, but his legs felt stiff and wooden. Every step he took sent lightning bolt into his brain and breathing was the hardest task.

When he looked in the mirror, he could hardly recognize himself. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants that rod up to his knees, with bandages covering his thigh and knee poking out from the sweatpants. Large bandages were wrapped around his chest, covering some of his tattoos. His face wasn’t looking great either, there was a large cut from his eyebrow to his cheekbone that had straight looking stitches keeping it shut along with a swollen lip and a bruise above under his other eye. His arms also were heavily covered in bandages and stitches. His blond hair, which was typically swept to the side of his face neatly, was covered in soot and messed up. Memories of the pervious night flashed through his mind.

“Wait, then why am I here?” He thought to himself. After what could have been an hour of careful deliberation, he reached the conclusion. He was kidnapped. He ran through the house of who ever took him and flew down the stairs and ran to where ever the front door was. In his crazed search for an exit. He hear a voice behind him.

“Oh good you are awake! Do you want anything to eat?” The voice asked. Astumu turned around to see the kidnapper, and he saw a girl. Her y/h/c framed her face and her y/e/c eyes stood out from the rest of her facial features. Maybe he wasn’t kidnapped? He doubted a lovely looking girl like this couldn’t have kidnapped him.

“Uh who are ya?” He asked. His throat was scratchy and his accent was much heavier than normal.

“I am L/n Y/n. Anyways what do you want for breakfast, eggs, porridge, onigiri ?” She asked. At the mention of food his stomach growled. He felt like he had not eaten in over a year. L/n laughed at this as she turned around and walked towards the fridge. Atsumu gingerly followed L/n, not sure if he should trust her or not. Well maybe he should. He is in an unknown with someone who is willing to make him breakfast? That sounds great. Except for the fact that he was covered in bandages, felt extremely weak, and was in this unknown lady’s house in an unknown location. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a plate being set down onto the long kitchen island. On the plate was an omelette with some vegetables. He sat down in front of the inviting meal. He decided he should at least know this woman if he was going to eat her food.

“Wait who are ya again?” He asked again. He was sure he sounded like an idiot.

L/n looked at him for a minute before responding. “Do you want to know my name or who I am?” She asked cheekily. Her question took Atsumu aback. Her eyes seemed to be peering into his soul as he looked at her. “The second one.” He responded when his mind finally comprehended her words.

“Well I am technically a doctor. I grew up in Tokyo and know I am here.” L/n said an expression of great thought. A doctor. That is a well respected profession. And besides doctors are trusted. So maybe he should trust her as well.

The omelette stared back at him with its beautiful yellow hue and the reds and greens of the vegetables she added. The first bite was heavenly. The explosion of flavours the egg was exquisite and the texture that the vegetables added? Perfect. He took another and another and another bite of the dish until there was none left. When he finally looked up, she were still looking at him.

“So maybe as a thank you, could you tell me who you are and what happened to you?” She inquired. It was a perfectly just question, but if she knew then the Boss would kill her. And someone who made such delicious omelettes should not die. So maybe he could lie. Yeah that was the best option. To lie.

This decision was a good decision, except he wasn’t good at lying. He was the fighter, while his twin brother, Osumu, was the manipulator. Even as kids, his mother could always tell when he was lying. In fact everyone could. But of course Atsumu didn’t even think about this. What a silly boy.

“A was umm, uhh m m mugged. Yeah totally. A was mugged.” He lied. L/n looked at him with great dissatisfaction spread across her face.

“So why was a yakuza mugged?” She asked. Damn. How did she know. Atsumu knew that he wasn’t as good as lying as his brother, but he was still decent. Astumu looked at L/n with a shocked expression coating his face, stuttering out “How did ya know?”.

L/n just pointed at his tattoos which went down both arms, across his back and some of his chest. His mouth hung open in surprise, or maybe shock at his own stupidity. Of course you would have known he was yakuza. He had the tattoos to prove it.

L/n walked around the kitchen island and got on her knees right in him.His mind raced in both anticipation and confusion. She placed her small dainty hands on his thighs and looked up at him with her doe eyes. While batting her eyelashes, she moved her hand to his bandaged thigh and squeezed. Atsumu doubled over in pain and fell to the ground. Shrieks of pain escaped his mouth as she held him knee. It felt like electricity was firing through his body as he convoluted on the ground in pain on the cold, hard ground. He screamed as she mercilessly held his thigh in her small hand.

“Fine I will tell ya, ya crazy bitch!!” He screamed in an attempt to surrender. She let go of his thigh and let him catch his breath.

“Good. When ever you are ready.” She stated in a very matter-of-fact tone as she stood up from his body, which was spread on her kitchen floor. As Atsumu started to catch his breath, he attempted to stand up only to feel a wet patch growing on his bandage. When he looked down at his leg, the blood had already seeped through his bandage and his one-size-too-small sweatpants. He looked up to see L/n’s alarmed face as he lost more blood.

“Hey Dr. L/n, if ya could please help?” He asked as he gestured toward his leg.

“Wait, what? At least give me your name first.” She said stubbornly. Atsumu’s vision was starting to blur and he felt as if the world was spinning.

“Can ya please help me first?” He asked, with the same stubbornness. The patch of blood on his leg was growing and he felt the blood trickle down to his ankle and onto the slipper under his foot. The slipper felt entirely soaked. In the background of the entire scene, he heard a door open.

“No. Tell me your name and then I will help you.” She retorted, oblivious to both the squeak of the door and the small puddle of blood on her kitchen floor. Atsumu felt his mind spinning faster than a merry-go-round, and his vision was blurrier than any selfie he had ever taken. Maybe this was the end. His vertigo was not doing to well as he felt his body shutting down.

“Miya Astumu” he said as he fell to the floor. The last think he remembered was your y/e/c eyes and a tall man with messy black hair and piercing cobalt blue eyes.

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theonewiththefanfics · 6 years

Text

Avenger of the Galaxy (part 1)

Summary: Reader is a part of Guardians of the Galaxy and after the fight with Thanos decides to stay on Earth, or is more so persuaded by Quill. At first, everyone is welcoming, especially Bucky, but her own demons start to reappear and interfere with the possibility of having a happy life. (In this version Loki was not on Thanos’ side and Pietro is alive- I will make my own universe, cause God damn it, I need to have my babies alright and safe!!!)

Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: only swearing in this one

Word count: 2220

Genre: right now just fluff, will contain angst as we move along

Bucky Barnes has been an Avenger for the better part of the year now. After the whole Thanos showdown, Tony had reluctantly allowed him to join. They still weren’t on the best of terms and the super soldier highly doubted they ever would be, but at least they acted civil towards each other. Most times. It had been another gruelling mission, that had dragged on longer than anticipated. Instead of the two weeks, Fury had promised it had stretched out into a full month and Bucky could not wait to fall into his bed and sleep the next day away. That is until he returned to the compound and heard unfamiliar voices arguing in the common area. “Fucking hell, Quill, can you just stay still, for fuck's sake! God!” the female voice exclaimed, “I now know why Gamora hates to patch you up, you’re such a baby!” “Well if you had gotten shot on your side, you would know how painful this is,” the man who called himself Starlord replied in an almost whiny tone. He’d met the Guardians of the Galaxy when he had gotten woken up from cryosleep. He actually had quite enjoyed their weird quirks, yet was slightly afraid of the talking racoon called Rocket. The Guardian had kept insisting he needed Bucky’s arm whenever he got the chance to, so he stayed away from the furry thing. He’d met Mantis, Drax and Gamora too as well as finding teenage Groot to be quite the character, yet the voice that was now apparently struggling with what she defined Quill to be a “man-child” he had never heard before.

“Frostie!” Starlord exclaimed when Bucky came in the view. He hated the nickname, like every other bestowed upon him, but the protests seemed to keep falling on deaf ears, so he just rolled with it. “Hello, Peter. How’s the galaxy?” Bucky went straight to the coffee pot. The exhaustion was about to hit him like a wave and no one else was in the compound to help out their surprise visitors, so he had to take up the role Tony usually sported. “You know, just like Earth- always in the need of savi- fuck, Y/N that hurts!” “Stop moving then!” “You’re pulling a needle through my skin, how do you suppose I don’t do that?” “How else am I supposed to keep your organs from falling out, huh?” “Just, please be a bit more gentle?” “I am gentle,” the girl grumbled in response. Her Y/H/C hair fell over her face like a curtain and Bucky couldn’t help but feel intrigued. “You’re just as gentle as lion feasting on its prey.” She let out a snort that in Bucky’s mind was the most adorable thing ever. Her Y/E/C eyes flitted up and looked at Bucky. “You look like absolute shit.” Bucky almost choked on the bitter drink in his hand. He was so accustomed to almost everyone acting around him like he could break any moment, except for Sam and Tony, but even those had toned it down, thanks to Steve, that her filterless approach was like a refreshing shower. “Yeah, I umm,” he cleared his throat, “I just got back from a mission.” “Ahhh,” she drawled out and looked back at the injured man she pulled the last stitch through, “that’s why you look like the only thing on your mind is sleeping through the week.” Quill pulled back on his grey shirt, a red bloodstain covering almost all of the left side. “Come on! It was my favourite!” he whined looking at the ruined piece of clothing, even stomping his leg on the ground like a toddler would do. The girl, Y/N, pulled off her medical gloves and tossed them onto the glass table. “Yeah, well next time maybe you’ll think before you jump in front of a shot rather than evading it.” “If I hadn’t done that Drax would’ve been hit.” “If you have enough time to take the shot for him, he has enough time to duck,” she placed a strand of hair behind her ears. “Drax’s words, not mine.” “You know what, all of you are so ungrateful. I cannot believe I call you my teammates let alone family.” “Yeah, well you should already be used to it,” she smirked at the man. For a second he stood there, towering over the girl before smirking and pulling her into a hug, groaning in pain at the same time. “Man, I love you,” he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Y/N patted him gently on the back as not to cause more pain to the man. As irritating as he was, she saw Quill as an older brother- annoying, of course, but wouldn’t even wait for a second to step in if he saw one of his family members in danger. Bucky cast his eyes down. The moment seemed very intimate and he felt like his presence completely interrupted it with its intrusiveness. The girl’s burgundy tactical suit hugged her every curve, the combat boots, which sported quite the heel, elevated her stance, yet Quill was still a good head taller than. “She’d be the perfect height to hug,” Bucky thought to himself. How her head would fit perfectly underneath his chin, how he'd be able to wrap his arms around the girl and feel that she was safe in his arms. “What am I thinking!” he scolded himself. He didn’t even know the girl and now a sudden urge to protect this stranger arose. To hold her and have her in his arms, to keep her from harm. The super soldier cleared his throat, more so to get his head straight, but with that, he drew the pair's attention back to him, Y/N’s face covered in a smile, Y/E/C eyes shining with love for her teammate. “Hey, yeah, so,” Quill started to ramble as if he finally remembering the reason they were here, “here’s the thing. Y/N sorta kinda needs to stay here for a bit. Is Stark around?” “Uhh, no,” Bucky shook his head taking a sip of the bitter liquid that had now cooled down a bit. “I’m the only one here. The rest are on a mission, but they should be back in a week or so. Tops,” he added after seeing Peter’s face scrunch up in concern. The man put his palm on the nape of his neck, dragging it down in a nervous motion. “The thing is we need Y/N to lay low for a while. I was hoping to talk to Stark or Rogers or something…” Starlord’s cheeks had reddened a bit at the mentions of the Captain’s name. He was a huge fan, almost to the point of fainting when he’d met the guy. “Is everything alright?” it was Bucky’s turn to be concerned. He’d had enough with one intergalactic fight, he didn’t need another one anytime soon in his near future. “Well, we wouldn’t be asking if it was,” this time the Y/H/C haired beauty chimed in having propped herself on the armrest of the sofa. “I kinda got into trouble with this group of people way back in the day and… basically their last words to me were- if we see you anywhere near our system we’ll pull your intestines out of your ass, wrap it around your neck, strangle you and use them as a rope to pull you up as a flag.” The super soldier gulped a bit. “Colourful.” “Tell me about it,” Y/N snorted, “anyways, our team has been hired to carry out a mission and well, to preserve the relative safety and not put anyone else in more danger, we were just kinda hoping that I could stay here for a bit. And when Hasselhoff-wannabe here,” she poked Quill in the side, “is done, they’ll come back and pick me up.” It wasn’t Bucky’s place to make these kinds of decisions. He was basically almost a nobody compared to Stark who designed, paid and housed everything and everyone or Steve who had become the unofficial-official leader of the Avengers. Hell, even Loki, the man who had tried to take over Earth, was higher above the list than the Winter Soldier. But as he looked at the girl he couldn’t help this weird feeling that started to form in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant, more so intoxicating. She didn’t see a broken man struggling with night terrors or guilt the size of Mount Everest, pity in her eyes, she didn’t care for the things he’d done while being a brainwashed puppet of Hydra. She looked at him like a person. So in Bucky’s mind, there was only one answer. “Of course you can stay. I don’t think anyone would mind.” “Sweet!” Y/N jumped up, excitement shining in her Y/E/C eyes and Bucky couldn’t help himself as he mirrored the smile stretched across her lips. The girl turned to Quill to hug him before a gasp fell out of her mouth and a palm slapped right over. “Sweet-cheeks, what is it?” Peter’s eyes scanned her body in concern. Had she gotten hit and no one noticed? What was wrong? Where was she hurt? “Oh my God,” she exhaled actual tears in her eyes, “I’ll be able to sleep on an actual bed. Like a real bed with a mattress and shit!” “Fuck, Y/N/N! You scared the shit out of me! I thought something was wrong!” Peter pulled her tight against his chest, pressing his face into her Y/H/C hair. The girl chuckled in response, once again proving to Bucky that that indeed was the best sound in the world. “And- wait a second! Hey! The ship is not that bad!” Y/N’s bright laughter echoed throughout the room as she untangled herself from Quill and went to the kitchenette. Bucky watched her heels click against the tile floors as she stood on her tippy toes to grab a mug from the upper cupboards, her hands barely reaching the top shelf, and pour herself the same dark coffee, no sugar, no nothing. “A fucking Jackson Pollock painting,” Y/N smirked up at Quill and drank, as she contently exhaled, “the juice of life” and commented how it was “just as black as her soul”. Peter shrugged on his jacket, a visible hole at his left side where the blast must have caught him. “So you two gonna be okay here?” Y/N waved a hand, gulping down the last bits of the coffee, Bucky’s eyes wide with how easy she downed the scalding drink. “We’ll be fine, stop worrying about it, mom.” “Y/N, sweet-cheeks, you know that if anything happens to you Gamora will rip my head off. And let’s not even talk about what Drax or Rocket will do.” “Then tell them,” she cupped the unshaven cheeks of Starlord, “that if anything does happen to me I expect to be treated like a fucking princess when I get back.” “You already are.” “Two hours of sleep at a time ain’t the standards a princess accepts,” she put her hands on her hips, “I expect at least three.” Peter huffed out a laugh. “Deal.” Y/N went to hug him, neither caring exactly about the stitches on Quill’s side. It was hard for the two to spend much time apart. The man had become a brother to Y/N, one she dearly needed in her life. He was who she confided in about everything and anything, given the fact that she as well came from Earth and had been taken by Yondu. “I’ll be fine,” the girl whispered in his ear. “I know you will,” Peter pulled back, one palm gently cupping her face. “It’s them,” his head motioned at Bucky, “I worry about.” Y/N smiled. “Go,” she shoved the man away, still wary of the injured side, “and don’t do anything reckless.” “It’s me we’re talking about. Reckless is my middle name.” Quill’s words echoed as he walked away before disappearing from sight. A small shudder went down Y/N’s spine followed by a sigh. It has been almost eight years since she had stepped foot on Earth. Bad memories from her past, the demons she’d buried deep inside her mind, locked behind bars and chains- all of it started to rattle with the knowledge that at least for a week she’d be staying on a planet that had caused only sorrow and pain. And one of the contributors was standing right behind her, Y/E/C eyes turning to face the ex-assassin's ice-blue ones. She plastered a fake smile on her face, practised to perfection that not even the best of the best could spot it wasn’t real. “This will be fun.”

Tags: @who-cares-rn

A/N: so a new series in a new fandom. let me know what you think :)

P.S. if you wanna be tagged message me :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)

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kpopyourcherryy · 7 years

Text

No More (A)

TRIGGER WARNING; THIS WILL HAVE MENTIONS/IMPLICATIONS OF SELF HARM AND DEPRESSION PLEASE CLICK AWAY AND DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE TRIGGER BY THIS SORT OF THING. ALSO DO NOT SEND ME HATE FOR THIS, WRITING ABOUT THIS HELPS ME COPE WITH MY OWN ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION.

Genre: Angst

Length: 1,800+ words

There was so much more to him than what he allowed others to see. Jae always tried to make the world, his friends, his fans- everyone- perceive him as this cool, chic, and sexy man. And he was. But, that wasn’t everything he was; he was one of the most complex, misunderstood human beings you had ever had the pleasure of meeting- let alone being able to call him your boyfriend.

11:30 pm

Work was more than exhausting. it was absolutely soul sucking. Being a nurse was one of the worst yet most rewarding things ever, but finally being able to go home after a 14 hour shift was absolutely heavenly.

As you walked into your boyfriend’s place, you breathed a sigh of pure relief. “Jae~” You loudly called out as you removed your shoes.

As you made your way in the living room, you could hear the sound of movement followed by hushed sniffling. “Babe?” You cautiously called out as you turned the corner into the room the two of you shared.

Immediately you could see your boyfriend trying to hide something underneath one of his burgundy towels. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose was runny.

Was he crying?

“Oh- Hey baby..” He said, quickly sniffling as he almost struggled to find his voice, “I- I didn’t hear you come in.”

You took a step further into the room, slowly inching your way towards him. “What’s wrong babe?” You asked, concern and worry coating your words. “Why do you have a towel?”

Jae’s eyes darted back and forth from you to the towel covering his arms, “Oh- I um..” He stuttered, his sentence trailing off as he tried to find some sort of excuse to throw you off. “I dr- drew on my arm and I was trying to wash the ink off..”

A soft, yet suspicious smile painted itself across your tired face. “Lemme help then.” You sweetly replied while making your way over to him, “I used to draw on myself all the time, I’m an expert at this.” You joked in a weak attempt to break the obvious tension in the room while kneeling down in front of him.

As you reached to grab the towel, he suddenly yanked it away; still covering himself. “No- No Jagi.. It’s okay, I’ll do it myself.” He replied in protest.

You stood slightly, pulling his arms back towards you. “Just let me help babe it’s not a big deal.” You gently gripped the towel in your free hand. Before you tried pulling off again, you peered up at him threw your lashes; more than prepared to show off your fatally adorable aegyo, but it wasn’t playfulness in his eyes- it was panic.

With your hand still gripping the fabric, you stayed there for a moment. “Babe..”

Jae didn’t respond. He seemed so distant- so disconnected from everything, yet so panicked.

Deciding not to waste anymore time you, once again, attempted to uncover his arms, but it almost seemed futile as he yanked it back still trying to keep whatever he had done a secret.

Almost instantaneously flashbacks to your middle school and high school years flooded your mind. You remember how utterly miserable you were- the horrid thoughts that constantly invaded your mind every second of the day, even when you thought you were at your happiest.

Your heart sunk as you remember the day you cut yourself a little too deep and your mom walked in on your with a blood soak towel covering your arms.

Please don’t let it be that.. You silently prayed as your lower lip quivered in fear to what he might be hiding. What if he had been fighting those god-awful thoughts you had been all those years ago? Were you about to find out how your mom felt that night she found you?

Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you continued to think of the worst. You glanced up at him, “Baby please..” Finally he responded in his own little way, his eyes meeting yours- the moment he saw your tears, he gave in.

You sighed in relief as he allowed himself to relax, “Good job baby, I’m so proud of you..” Despite the situation occurring, you knew how important it was for him to know he was doing a good thing by letting you help.

Anxiety rushed throughout your body as you slowly began peeling the towel off his forearms, and immediately your worst nightmare had come true. As you finally pulled it off and dropped it beside you, your stomach knotted up and your words seemed to choke you.

The mix of drying and fresh blood caused tears to flood your eyes and pour down your cheeks. “Baby why?” You spoke in a hushed tone as you questioned him, carefully hold his arms in your hands. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

Jae sat there, his arms laid in your hands as he sniffed. He cleared his throat with a broken cough, then looking up at the ceiling in an effort to blink the tears that threatened to break free away. “Y/n..” He spoke softly. You could hear just how truly broken he was, though he still tried to hide it- you knew.

“Yes baby?” You replied shakily, the grip on his arms loosening as you attempted to avoid hurting him.

He slowly turn his glazed over eyes down to you, tears formed in the corner but this time he didn’t blink them away. He left them, he allowed them to break free and roll down his cheeks. “I’m not good..” He weakly spoke, “I’m not good enough. I’m boring, I’m not handsome, I’m mediocre compared to the others.. I’m nothing..”

You had never once seen him so hurt and torn apart in the two years you and him had been dating, not once had he ever let his composure slip. “No, Jae..” Just before you could finish your sentence, he cut you off.

“Y/n, why did you choose me?” He asked airily, tears came down on his cheeks faster. “Why? I’m not good enough for you. I see the way Youngjae looks at you. He loves you too, why not him? Why me?”

The fact that he asked you questions like that shattered you, “Jae.. I love you. I always have. You had me the moment we met.” You replied, “There was just something about you that I was so drawn to. You always put up this cool, chic front. You had this wall around you, and I could see right through it. I know it sounds stupid, but I could see how fragile you really were, babe. I could see how insecure you were, how frightened and anxious you were- but you didn’t want the world to know.”

Your words left him speechless, he just sat there silently allowing his tears to fall.

“Not only did you try to hid how you really felt to the world, but you tried hiding it from me to.” You added, the sadness in your voice was more the apparent. Releasing one of his arms from your hand, you brought your free hand up to his face. “Jae look at me..” You said, gently wiping his tears away.

He cleared his throat once more, then glanced over to you. You beamed a delicate smile up at him, “You don’t have to hid anymore..” Your voice was warm and comforting. “You don’t have to hid- at least not from me. I love you for you, for all of you Jae.”

“I love you so much, y/n..” He shakily cooed, burying his face into your hand. “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?” His rhetorical question eased the sadness that overwhelmed you inside.

You looked back down to his wounds, “They don’t look deep, so you won’t need stitches..” Your nurse mode kicked in as you examined his arms, “Let’s go to the restroom, I have that first aid kit in the cabinet. Let’s go clean you up.”

Jae nodded, and followed you as you stood from your spot.

Once the two of you made it to the restroom, you locked the door behind y’all and sat him down on the toilet after closing the lid. As you opened the cabinet, you quickly scanned it, “Ah here it is..” You whispered to yourself, pulling out the medium sized white plastic box.

After almost 10 minutes of concentrating on cleaning up his wounds and patching him up, your attention turned back to your boyfriend. “All better..” You said light-heartedly sighing after.

Jae brought his hand up to his face, then wiped his nose with back of his hand. Looking down at the bandages he sighed heavily, “I’m not crazy for doing this am I?”

His question made your blood run cold, again you remember saying the same thing to your mom at the hospital. You rapidly shook your head, “No you’re not..” You replied gently, “I know what you’re going through, babe. I never told you this, but one night after coming home from school- “ The words seemed to get caught in your throat, you were getting all choked up just remembering what had happened, but he needed to know he wasn’t alone.

“I used to hurt myself.. a lot and often.” You confessed weakly. Jae’s eyes darted over to you, all color from his face disappearing. “One night, I cut a little too deep. My mom walked in almost ten minutes later.. I was sitting on the bathroom floor slowly bleeding out and limp. And since I kept coming in and out of consciousness, all I remember was being rushed to the hospital and then waking up in a bed all bandaged up and my mom sitting there crying her eyes out.”

The tears you so desperately tried fighting back escaped and streamed down your cheeks, “I asked her if she thought I was crazy, and she just shook her head and hugged me while apologizing. She had nothing to apologize for, but she did anyway. That’s when I decided- no more, I couldn’t hurt the people that loved me.” You quickly wiped your tears away and sniffled.

Your eyes locked with his once more, “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I am here for you. You’re not alone Jae, not anymore. I promise you that.”

Jae immediately stood from his seat, his heart ached the entire time he heard your story. “I’m so sorry..” He wrapped his arms around you, tightly hugging you; holding on to you like his life depended on it. Slowly releasing you from his tight embrace, he held you less than a foot away from him. His eyes meeting yours, “I love you... I don’t want to you hurt you anymore. I can’t do this to you, so no more okay? Seeing how broken you were killed me. I won’t do it again..”

Hearing his words caused pure relief to wash over you, you practically threw yourself back in his arms and tenderly planted a soft peck in the middle of his chest. “No more..” You faintly breathed as you buried yourself into him.

Burying his face into your hair, then kissing the top of your forehead. He gently ran his fingers through your hair, hoping it comforted you in some way. “I’ll get better for you. No more.. Never again..”

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