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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

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Remember You Even When I Don't (3)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.7K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part Two

_________

He dreamt of sparkling lights and cobblestone streets. When he roused consciousness, he thought he could smell pumpkin candles and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He woke slowly, chasing after the smell and the visuals as they evaporated from his view. He blinked several times, adjusting to the fluorescent light and white walls of his hospital room.

“Well well well, look who decided to wake up.”

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind. He looked to his left, where he had grown accustomed to seeing you sitting, only you weren’t there this time. Instead, he saw someone he recognized very well, smirking at him like only she could.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he grunted out as he adjusted himself on the bed and raised it up so he wasn’t lying down as far, making it easier to look at her.

“You look like shit,” she continued.

Bradley snorted. “Thanks, Phoenix. Appreciate that.”

The smirk on her face fell into a soft smile. She reached out and laid her hand on his, squeezing gently. “It’s good to see you, Rooster.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” he nodded, and he meant it. “How…long has it been?”

Like she usually did, Nat knew exactly what he meant, and he was grateful he didn’t have to explain. “For me? Five days. I hear it may be a little longer for you, though. Based on the date you told the doctor, it’s been six months since I was sent to Korea without you.”

“Five days? So…”

“I was in the air with you when you went down,” she confirmed. “We’ve been stationed here together for almost three years.”

“Lucky you,” he murmured as he rolled this new information over in his head. Learning that he was stationed in San Diego, Fightertown of all places, as part of a permanent detachment at Top Gun was a lot for him. The last place he remembered was D.C. But learning he had been with Phoenix here the whole time, for three years, brought another question to his mind. He took a glance around the room, even though he knew they were alone.

“We finally talked her into going home and taking a shower about an hour and a half ago. One of the guys might con her into taking a nap, too.”

The coffee cup from the day prior flashed in his mind again. “We?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, meeting his eyes again. “It’s not just you and me anymore, Bradshaw. We found ourselves a whole, big ass family here. Imagine that, huh?”

He could always count on Nat to never beat around the bush with him. He never knew how much he appreciated it until now, when he had never felt so out of the loop before.

“Anyone I know?”

She barked out a laugh, her eyes shining with something that looked like mischief. “Oh, Rooster. I don’t know that you’d even believe me if I told you.”

“That bad, huh?”

She was still laughing when she leant forward, speaking like she was sharing a secret with him. Bradley supposed that in a way, she was.

“What would you say if I told you Bagman has been here to visit you everyday?”

Bradley’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “Good joke.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” she said, her voice very much taking on the I told you so tone that she was so good at. She picked her phone up from her lap, scrolling for a few seconds before handing it over to him. There was a picture displayed on the screen of a group of people all donning their traditional green flight suits with an F/A-18 in the background. And there, right in the middle with his signature smug grin, was Jake fucking Seresin, arm wrapped around Bradley’s own shoulders like it was completely normal to do so.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“Tell me. What’s more shocking? Hangman being your best friend, or finding out you have a wife?”

She was teasing him, Bradley knew, trying to ease some of the obvious tension in the room. He looked at the picture again, trying to place names with faces. He recognized Payback and Coyote, and Harvard and Yale, but the rest were unfamiliar to him. He studied it for another moment, but no memories came with it. There was a flash of disappointment when he handed her phone back to her.

“Pretty even, I guess.”

Despite his words, they both knew it wasn’t really even. He had known Hangman for a decade and the rivalry had never really been more than that. But you, on the other hand…you were something Bradley never anticipated or thought he’d have. He’s still in shock at your existence, still something more than perplexed at how you made him feel even if he knew little more than your name.

“This is….a lot, Nat. I have a wife. A wife and a whole life I don’t remember.” It was the first time he had said it out loud. His voice cracked, and his eyes stung, but he knew she would never use it against him. “This is crazy.”

Her face was sympathetic now and she reached back out to hold his hand again. “You’ll get through it, Bradley. I know you will. We’ll all help you. Especially her.” She said it with such certainty that he almost believed her.

“Can you tell me about her?” he asked her tentatively, and Nat shrugged in response.

“It’s not my place to tell you your entire love story with her,” she said. Bradley couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“What I will tell you though,” she continued, and he perked up just the slightest bit, “is that you two are ridiculously happy. And you love one another more than I’ve seen two people be capable of loving one another, and my parents have been married for like 40 years. You, her, and Florence are the perfect little family and we all make fun of you for it on a regular basis but it’s just because we’re jealous.”

Her words made him feel better, but then he replayed them in his head and felt panic course through his body. The heart monitor beeped a little faster. “Florence? Who is Florence? Nat, do I have a kid?”

By the way she bursted out laughing, he assumed that no, he did not, or her sense of humor has seriously changed in the last four years that she would find his panic at the thought funny if it were true.

“No,” she snorted, “not as far as I’m aware. Florence is your cat. You call her Florry, most of the time.”

His sigh of relief was so deep that it hurt his still very broken ribs, but it was worth it. Waking up to a wife he didn’t remember was one thing. He didn’t know if he could handle forgetting a child on top of that. Hell, he could barely handle all of this as it was.

“I don’t remember her,” he started, and despite him stating the obvious, Nat was quiet as he worked out his thoughts. “But I feel like I know her. That’s…that’s crazy, right?”

“I don’t think so,” she shrugged, “You do know her. Better than anyone. Your mind may not remember her, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t.”

Bradley considered her words for a moment, feeling like he got punched right in his broken ribs.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I feel like I do.”

Phoenix smiled at him sadly, giving him a moment to breathe before she started talking again. She spoke about the last four years of his career. He was stationed in D.C. when he was sent on a six week deployment to Belgium, only to be pulled out of that halfway through for a special mission out of Top Gun. It led to all of those that were called back to form a new unit with this as their homebase.

“The Dagger Squad?” he questioned with a snort. Natascha hit him gently in his arm, but he winced anyway just to mess with her as they’ve always done. “Ow.”

“Jokes on you, asshole. You were the first one to say it and it stuck.”

He groaned. “Of course I was.”

She talks him through how he was promoted in 2020, nearly a year after being stationed here. Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, she had teased. She had since been promoted as well, but he got it before the rest of them. He felt a certain level of satisfaction in that. They had done additional missions together, deploying for mostly short stints when necessary, and had taught a few Top Gun classes of their own.

Their crew was close, like family. Some of them had been in the air with him when he went down days prior, while the others remained in the tower. They all searched for him and made sure he was found, unwilling and unable to leave him behind.

They had been here everyday since his accident, rotating out in shifts so that you were never alone, staying until the nurses kicked them out at the end of the night. Bob, one of the ones in the photo that Bradley didn’t recognize, had been down in the cafeteria getting you both food when he had woken up the previous morning. It warmed him, knowing you had people here for you when he had been unconscious. That there was someone making sure you ate and drank water and slept. It was important to him that you weren’t alone.

Coyote and Hangman had been the ones to drive you home this evening. You had agreed only if Phoenix stayed in case he woke up, so that he wasn’t alone.

“She thought you would appreciate seeing a face you recognized,” she explained, and the thought that you were that considerate nearly took his breath away. He did appreciate it, more than he thought. The two of them talked for a long time, but Bradley felt himself missing you. There was an ache in his chest that was getting harder to ignore. He found himself looking toward the door and at the clock near the window. The sun had gone down hours ago. When the nurse came in a little while ago to check on him, she had warned Nat that visiting hours were almost over.

“Everything alright?” Nat asked him, noticing how his gaze was wandering and he was taking longer pauses between responding to her. “Pain okay?”

There was an ever present ache in his head and his ribs hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t what he was focused on right now.

You were upset when you had left the room earlier. He still wanted to know who you were talking to and what the doctor had said to you and to just know you. He was starting to get anxious that you weren’t coming back.

He didn’t like the thought. Your presence soothed something. Anytime you were in the room with him, he felt a little less outside of his own skin. You had said the day before that there was nowhere else you would be than beside him, so he had to believe you wouldn’t leave him alone tonight.

“Fine,” he muttered, deciding to keep the thoughts to himself, too embarrassed to ask after where you were and when you were coming back. He suspected that Nat saw right through him, but gracefully, she moved on. Even when another thirty minutes had passed and the nurse came in again, informing the two of them that visiting hours were over and she was hugging him goodbye as gently as she could, he didn’t say anything.

When the door closed behind her, he realized it was the first time he had been alone since he woke up in this bed the morning before. Being on his own had never bothered him before. He had always preferred solitude over anything else, yet this felt strangely empty. Lonely, even. Your face was there at the forefront of his mind. He found himself wondering what you were doing right now. If you had ended up taking that nap at home and if you were okay. His heart ached remembering the broken look in your eyes yesterday when he didn’t know who you were and how distraught you looked with the doctors and nurses earlier.

He wished he would have had the thought to ask Phoenix for your phone number. He had no idea where his own cell phone was, but the old corded phone in the hospital room could certainly dial out if he needed to reach you.

He wondered if this same sense of longing had happened so quickly the first time around, too.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he thought about you, but his ears picked up on hurried footsteps making their way to his door. They barely paused before it was thrown open, but grabbed before it could hit off the wall.

The tightness in his chest eased when he saw you. You paused in the doorway when you saw he was awake and looking at you.

You looked more frazzled than he had ever seen you, not that that was a lot, but it still unsettled him.

“Are you-”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted, making your way into the room after you gently closed the door, almost as to make up for your brash opening of it. The notion almost made him smile. “I went home to take a shower so you could talk to Nat and I ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to be gone for this long.”

“It’s alright,” he assured you, but the frazzled look didn’t go away. Seeing it made him forget all about how distraught he almost was that you weren’t here. “Try and convince me differently all you want, but I bet an actual bed was a lot better than this chair. I’m glad you got some sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and it made him feel something akin to pride to be the cause of it.

The smile slipped after a moment. You twisted your ring on your finger, your eyes cautious. You looked small, and he didn’t like that. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Your doctor, he uh, he told me I should give you some space. That I might be overwhelming for you? But I didn’t want you to be alone. That’s why I had Nat come, but non-family members can’t stay overnight so…”

A flash of anger hit them then. He had known when you walked back into his hospital room when the doctor had requested your presence outside that he had said something to you. He should have known after he had made the comment about you leaving the room during his consultation that it was something to do with that.

“He didn’t have a right to say that to you.”

“Bradley-“

“Just because I don’t remember you doesn’t mean you don’t exist,” he said, his voice firm, and he heard the breath you sucked in.

His tone softened with his next words, “And even if I don’t understand it, I want you here. I mean…as long as you still want to be?”

It didn’t occur to him, before, that maybe this was too much for you. He was your husband who had been in the hospital for a week who woke up not remembering who you were. Maybe you needed some space. But you were nodding your head before he could overthink it too much.

“I do. I told you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. But I want to do what’s going to be best for you more, okay? I know you don’t know me enough to trust me right now, but I need you to promise me that if it ever is too overwhelming for me to be here, you tell me, okay?”

That was the thing. He did trust you. It was a feeling deeply rooted in his bones that he could trust you with anything.

“I promise,” he said instead of telling you what he was really feeling. The emotions were too raw, too jumbled, and he hadn’t made sense of them yet.

“Alright,” you nodded. You finally made your way from where you had been standing at the end of his hospital bed over to the chair beside it. A pressure lifted off of him when you sat down.

Yes, he thought, that’s better.

“How was your visit with Phoenix?” you asked, kicking your tennis shoes off and curling your legs up underneath you. You were in another pair of black leggings and another oversized pullover, UPENN displayed across the front of the dark gray material. Your hair was down again, and he decided he liked how the color looked against your skin as you pushed it out of your eyes. You raised your eyebrows at him and he realized he must have been staring.

He cleared his throat, fighting off reddening cheeks. Damn.

“It was good,” he admitted. “She caught me up a lot; told me about being stationed out here and the squad we’re on. She kinda laid out the last four years of my career for me.”

“Congrats on your promotion,” you joked, and Bradley found himself letting out a surprised chuckle at your humor.

“Did she say anything specific? About the mission you were called for that got you stationed here?” you asked. Bradley shook his head.

“She didn’t go into many details. Why?” You let out a long, low breath, and Bradley felt his stomach knot. “Is there something else I should know about it?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “and it may not be easy for you to hear, but..well, it’s important. Kind of a big part of the last three years of your life.”

That could mean a lot of things. He tried to stamp down all the worst case scenarios that played around in his head and watched you fiddle with the phone in your hand. You paused, took a breath, and then handed it over to him. Your fingers brushed against his when you did and the spark it sent through him made him take a second to realize what it is he was looking at. His breath caught in his throat when he did.

Staring back at him was the two of you. You were both smiling, clearly happy, with you tucked into his side like you belonged there. On his other side, he had his arm thrown around the neck of someone he hadn’t seen in years. At least that he could remember. He couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling. A decades worth of anger and bitterness, he supposed, but the underlying hurt and regret that he always tried to not acknowledge were there too. If he focused hard enough, there was even the smallest flicker of hope.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, still staring at the picture.

“You asked me earlier who Pete was, when you saw the name on my coffee cup,” you reminded him, “not many people call him that, but I do.”

You went on to tell him an abridged version of what sounded like a mission report. Mav was their mission leader and he was his wingman. He got shot down trying to save him, and Bradley disobeyed direct orders to go find him, where he was then shot down trying to save him. It ended fine. They clearly made it out, with some assistance, and had taken a lot of time to work through things. They had completely rebuilt their relationship in the last three years and by the looks of them in this picture, it was hard not to believe you when you said they were stronger than ever.

“I know how badly he hurt you, and that hearing this might bring up those feelings,” you whispered, your voice sympathetic but not pitying, which was something he appreciated more than he could say, “but the two of you love each other so much. When the time came, you were ready to forgive him. It may be hard to believe, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I promise. He’s family. To both of us.”

“He’s been here?” Bradley brought himself to ask, and though he already knew the answer based on the sharpied evidence on a plastic coffee cup, the nod you gave him in response winded him.

“Everyday,” you confirmed.

Bradley nods slowly, processing your words.

“I don’t…know that I’m ready to see him,” he finally said.

“That’s okay,” you assured him immediately, “you don’t have to right now. But I didn’t want to keep it from you, okay? I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

He looked away from the phone he had been staring at to meet your eyes, and he knew that you were being sincere. Your eyes were earnest, your expression open, and he was blown away that anyone so beautiful would look at him like that. He let out a breath that was shakier than he would want to admit before he handed your phone back to you.

“Are you tired?” you asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He was, truthfully, but this was the longest conversation the two of you have had; he wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Tell me something else,” he said instead.

“What would you like to know?” you asked, clicking your phone off and setting it on the table near his bed.

“You,” he said instantly, not needing any time to think and not second guessing his honesty, “I want to know you. Us.”

Your smile was shy, and your cheeks bloomed again, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you nodded. His heart raced in his chest again. “Alright.”

______

Listening to your voice had quickly become one of his favorite things. The two of you talked for a long time that night, and he grasped onto every detail you gave him.

You were a few years younger than him. You worked in journalism, covering politics and policy, for the most part completely remote from your home here in San Diego. You grew up in Philadelphia (the Eagles sweatshirt was yours) and were the only child of only children. You weren’t overly close with your parents, but you didn’t seem bothered by it, either. You loved spicy food and sour beers, and things always got a little interesting when you indulged in too much white wine. You had adopted Florence, the adorable brown tabby that you proudly showed him pictures of, when you moved to DC all on your own, and Bradley was apparently the only man the cat tolerated.

The two of you hosted board game nights or dinner parties on a regular basis, and it had surprisingly only ended in a physical fight between him and Hangman once in the last three years.

The night nurse came in for her rounds and was surprised to see him still awake, but he refused additional pain medication when she offered it because he wasn’t ready for how they would inevitably put him to sleep.

He wanted to know everything about you.

“Tell me how we met?” He requested.

Your smile was soft, like you liked how the memory made you feel.

“We were both subjected to the ‘single guest with no date’ table at a wedding,” you revealed. Bradley wracked his brain and remembered a save the date he had sloppily stuck to his fridge in his DC apartment. He asked if that was the one you were referencing and your smile grew as you confirmed it.

“We met in Philadelphia?”

“We did,” you laughed, “which is incredibly ironic, considering we were both living in DC at the time.”

It sounded more like fate, but Bradley kept those thoughts to himself for now.

“Did I ask you to dance?” he asked, almost certain of the answer considering where they ended up years later, but to his surprise, you shook your head. His eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” you swore with a chuckle.

“I was at the same table with you and I didn’t even ask you to dance?”

You threw your head back with a full laugh, and Bradley was sure if they pulled the data from the monitor he was still hooked up to, it would show that his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“The rest of the people at the table were admittedly not that nice, and when we realized that we weren’t that bad, we ended up escaping and sitting outside at one of the cocktail hour tables for the majority of the night.”

He wished he could remember what you looked like that night. He wondered what color dress you wore, and if you had your hair up or down, when he was apparently not dancing with you.

“That seems like a crime,” you flushed at the words he mumbled mostly to himself.

It was difficult for him to comprehend that he had someone in his life like you, but it wasn’t hard at all to see how he fell in love with you as quickly as he must have. You were beautiful outwardly, but he was seeing you were even more so inwardly, as well. You were funny and witty and kept him on his toes, and he was sure he hadn’t even scratched the surface of you yet.

The more he learned, the more infatuated he became.

It was nearing two in the morning when your yawning became more frequent amongst your conversation. Watching your face scrunch up every time it happened was adorable, and he wondered if you were as unwilling to go to sleep as he was. The bubble of storytelling you had found yourself in was warm and comforting, but he finally took pity when you started rubbing your eyes under your glasses. The urge to somehow take care of you was brewing inside of him. He wanted to be selfish, but he had kept you up long enough.

“We should get some sleep,” he murmured. Your hair fell in your eyes when you nodded and he found himself wanting to tuck it behind your ear for you.

“Are you in any pain?” you asked. You were worrying for him, despite how tired you obviously were. He had been shown more concern in the last 48 hours than he could remember getting in the last decade; his heart ached at the thought.

“It’s not so bad right now.”

“I can get the nurse.” You were already rising to do so, and before he could stop himself, he reached out to grab your arm. You froze from your position half raised out of the chair. Your wide eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his again.

Bradley swallowed deeply, but didn’t let go. He couldn’t stop his thumb from gently rubbing your skin through the thick material of your sweatshirt.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, “promise.”

The breath you let out was shaky, but you nodded. Without disconnecting from him, you pulled your chair just the slightest bit closer to his bed with your other hand, but you didn’t move to sit down yet. Instead, you took a step closer and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. Your scent invaded his senses and he suddenly felt dizzy again for a completely different reason. You lingered for a moment and he reveled in it.

“Thank you,” he didn’t quite know what he was thanking you for, but he needed to say it. His voice was thick all of a sudden, feeling overwhelmed with the influx of emotions he was feeling.

You just smiled at him, and he released the hold he had on your arm so you could settle back into the chair that had become your temporary residence for the last week.

“Goodnight, Bradley.”

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Notes: Things are starting to pick up with these two! The next part is when we really get into the fun stuff, I think :)

Tagging those who asked or interacted. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader

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dejabooooo · 3 months

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The Anti-Pines family is utterly fascinating. We have the blueprint for an entire pseudo canon AU, and remarkably I have seen little input from the fandom in regards to it. I can’t imagine why because there is SO MUCH TO WORK WITH HERE.

Anti-Waddles being as nefarious as Anti-Mabel. “The first pig to ever go to jail for armed robbery.” Like 😭😭 imagine waddles standing upright and holding a tommy gun. Imagine no one in the bank their holding up taking them seriously because they’re an adorable little girl and a chubby pig, and mabel threatening to put a bullet between someone’s eyes like “u better cough up the bacon before this bacon smokes u.” I wanna see what other heinous atrocities the cutest crime duo in the multiverse get up to.

ANTI-SOOS BEING A FORBES BILLIONAIRE HOW AND WHY DID THIS HAPPEN

You’d think if Anti-Ford represents the opposite of Ford that you’d wind up with someone who is exceptionally normal and uninteresting but NOPE. Anti-Ford is easily the weirdest here. FUCKING??? YOUTUBER??? DJ?? A sixty-something year old man with 200 subscribers who posts about his dubstep set lists daily. Utterly baffling.

Anti-Stan and Anti-Dipper are the most understandable in terms of being complete opposites of their counterparts, but all of this makes me wonder how differently their stories would play out because of this. Anti-Mabel was “chased out of her dimension” for being so evil. How does her family feel about this? Are they trying to get her back? Does this bizarre cast embark on a comical and heartfelt journey to try and bring her home? A journey that ends in an emotional reunion? Perhaps one that Mabel fights as she clings to her indifferent, cold ideology while her family begs her to come home. All of them recollecting her horrible crimes with proportionately little exasperation and an abundance of fondness. Stan recounting when she stole all the money from a fundraiser he’d held so she could instead invest the funds into remodeling their entire house to have a monochrome minimalist decor. Ford reminiscing about the time she tried to use his channel to funnel money into a crypto/nft scheme. Dipper having countless stories. like how happy she’d make him when he’d get to skip school thanks to her (because she burned down the school, multiple times). About how she’d sabotaged pretty much all of his relationships, but it was a good thing in the end because it allowed him to realize that who he always really loved was that dorky socially awkward corduroy girl he hadn’t noticed at first. All of this retrospection from her family chipping away at her hardened heart and- phew, I'm getting carried away, but the possibilities, man! These characters could be so much more than a one time joke.

There is also the matter of Anti-Bill. “He is very boring.” Shut up??? Speak for urself, schmebulock, he sounds delightful. This is another character I believe you could expand in many interesting ways. I mean think about it, a being possessing the same caliber of bill’s omniscience and using it for good sounds amazing. Knowing all the beauty in all the universes and going out of his way to share it with weary minds through their dreams. Nullifying nightmares. What if he were a healing antidote to the mind, a medicine to bill’s mind unraveling madness? What if they knew each other?

Do you see my (delusional) vision here guys?

#gravity falls #gf #mabel pines #waddles #soos ramirez #stanford pines #dipper pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #bill cipher

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lokischocolatefountain · 5 months

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Setting Boundaries

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: PG13 (form mentions of adult topics)

Summary: Javi realizes he can’t have his cake and eat it too.

A/N: I started writing husband!Javi as a married man, but I often wonder what it was like in the beginning when he and his now wife didn’t intent to have anything serious… So here’s a little drabble from that

“What are you doing here Javier?” She asked him, head leaned back on her headboard as she came down from her last orgasm.

“Huh?” He asked, confused. She had called him over… Did he interpret it wrong? And if he did, why would she let him know after they’d fucked?

“I want to know what you want. From me.”

“Think I showed you what I want from you, baby,” he teased before leaning in to kiss her. She turned her head, his lips pressing on her cheek instead. She was in no mood for lighthearted banter.

“What do you mean?”

“You never stay the night, which tells me that this is just sex. And then you cook me fancy Mexican food for dinner in my kitchen and then I think there’s something more. You haven’t introduced me to any of your friends and I’m back to thinking there’s nothing more between us. But then you drive me to the fucking market and back and tell you you don’t want me carrying all that stuff by myself. But then you won’t be seen in public with me. Or meet my friends. But then you kiss me on the forehead and remember my coffee order and send me gifts because I got tenure—” she stopped to let out a sigh. “It’s not— it’s giving me whiplash, Javi.”

He tucked his gun and badge back in his jeans but stood in place instead of leaving. She was right. He was giving her mixed messages, pushing her away and pulling her back in. Romancing her in the privacy of her apartment but leaving once he was done exacting his name out of her lips.

But she didn’t say she wanted anything serious. And he had made it clear that with the way his job was, there was no space for anything more. But he had been doing a lot more.

“Carla wants to set me up with her cousin and I don’t even know what to tell her.”

“Do you like Carla’s cousin?” He spat, suddenly incensed.

He was not a possessive man. He slept with prostitutes who had multiple men a day. He never felt jealous. He was alright with his partners having other partners as long as he didn’t catch something. Or worse, make something. But the thought of her sitting across fucking Carla’s fucking cousin at some restaurant made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

“That’s not the point!” She exclaimed, looking away from him as she got dressed. “I don’t even know what his name is. It’s just— I’m in limbo and I have no clue what I’m doing with you. We fuck on schedule but you don’t just…leave. You ask me about my job and make jokes and get me dinner before leaving. You are— It’s fucking with my head, Javier. I need boundaries. Either we just have sex and you stop all the other things— carrying my groceries, sending me gifts, cooking for me, that stuff—or you let me take you out on a date.”

“What do you want from me?” He asked, hoping she would say she just wanted sex. That she didn’t find him worthy of anything except a good fuck to drain the stress of her workday. Because then it wouldn’t be his choice. Then he could tell himself that she was the one who pushed him away, that he never had a chance with her. That date nights and cuddling on the couch were not for men like Javier Peña who’d long stowed their hearts away to stomach what they did on a daily basis.

“I like having sex with you.”

“But?” He asked, knowing there was a but. There always was.

“And,” she emphasized, as though hearing his inner thoughts and needing to argue with it. “I like when you take me to the market. I like you. I just want to know if you like me too or if getting dinner with Carla’s cousin would be cheating.”

He’d never met Carla or her cousin before but if he did, he would run them over with his jeep.

She didn’t ask him to answer immediately. Of course she didn’t. She always had to be reasonable and rational and kind to him. She wasn’t asking anything of him, didn’t demand that they date. She just wanted to know where they stood. Fair enough.

“It wouldn’t be cheating.”

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. She could have dinner with whoever she liked. Carla’s cousins, Tíos, dad. Some fucked up trio with Carla and her husband. It wasn’t his concern. She’d be better off with any of those men.

In retrospect, he should’ve know how mad it would’ve driven him.

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shuttershocky · 1 month

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Consider, Barret.

I'm always considering Barret!

He's my favorite FF7 character and his design in Remake is outstanding.

Parts of Barret didn't age too well (his original character concept is "big and scary man" and he's the only major black character so uhhhhh) but I love that he's an unapologetic revolutionary and a genuinely charismatic leader that cares for the people under him as much as for his cause, whether or not they're even his responsibility.

One of the more endearing parts of the Remake is all the ways that Barret still cares for Cloud despite Cloud only being a hired merc instead of being a true believer in Avalanche; he gets worried when Cloud doesn't make it back immediately after they bomb Mako Reactor 1, and when they bomb Mako Reactor 5 and Barret thinks Cloud is about to fall to his death, Barret immediately says "Listen merc, I was wrong about you!" because he won't let anyone under his command die without him doing everything he could, even if all he can do is tell them they made him proud. He even offers to to stay behind and help Cloud battle Rufus Shinra, expecting Rufus to cheat (he does) and not wanting Cloud to sacrifice himself just to buy the party time to escape when that should be his responsibility as Avalanche leader.

He's even a loving father that spoils his daughter Marlene, but instead of making that detail something that contrasts his hardass personality, it's because he has a child that he's a hardcore eco-terrorist—his child's future is on the line.

I love that he's obviously the most well-read party member, quoting books about planetology and social justice in between all of his other lines being a Mr. T caricature. When the likes of Tifa grow uncomfortable with Avalanche's mission because of the ordinary people whose lives they disrupt too, he's always there to steady her and remind them all that their fight is literally for the planet's life; most Shinra employees are ordinary people just trying to do their best for their families, but Shinra itself is slowly destroying the planet and will kill them all, this fight must be done for everyone's sakes. A good man that serves an evil master must recognize his complicity before he can redeem himself.

One of the coolest things the Yuffie DLC does is expand more on Avalanche as a resistance group with different factions, with the main faction receiving support from Wutai. Barret's group is called "the splinter cell" because the other Avalanche factions don't want to associate with them since they think bombing the Mako reactors goes too far. The rest of Avalanche don't want to destroy Shinra entirely and ruin the lives of many people in the process, they want to force it into reforms.

Sonon and Yuffie end up chatting about this and Sonon says "The problem is, Avalanche is made of good people. They're soft. They want things like better work conditions, fair elections, equality for the undercity members. They can't do what needs to be done, and will eventually be against us. If you ask me, those guys in the splinter cell are who we should be supporting." Sonon is speaking as a Wutai agent out to destabilize Midgar in vengeance for Midgar burning Wutai to the ground back in the war, but it also really highlights how Barret is the only real force for change inside Avalanche, if all the other Avalanche factions are getting support from other countries and doing nothing while Barret is waging a full on war and earning victories against Shinra with only a gun, a girl that can punch good, and a twink with a big sword.

Also gameplay-wise Barret carries this fucking team on his back. Steelskin and his huge healthpool make Barret a tank (very important when many enemies can decide to give you the finger and wipe the entire team), and Lifesaver allows Barret to take damage meant for his teammates, which is critical for surviving many tough fights, but also makes gimmick/joke builds like Nailbat Cloud viable where you want to keep him on 25% health to have that crit chance and damage boost, but can't let him get slapped once or he dies.

That's on top of Barret's skills being your best ranged options in Remake that isn't spending MP (Aerith can do way more damage with spells but also dies to a sneeze without spending materia slots on HP Up), which is also highly important as half the enemies are flying around and Cloud can barely air attack until Rebirth reworked him. There's also bossfight gimmicks like The Arsenal's guns being interrupted by Focus Shot (you normally need Thundaga to stop it and Hard mode doesn't let you use items, making MP conservation really important) Maximum Fury being amazing at building stagger on bosses from the sheer hitcount and being very satisfying to use, and Barret's incredible Deadly Dodge allowing you to cheese the super annoying Brainpod fight because he swings his gun and hits all the Brainpods at once.

Finally, it's really funny how the Remake added in a big cosmic fate force called the Whispers that have the ability to raise the dead and cause or prevent disasters as fate demands it only for them to be destroyed by Barret and Red XIII shooting it repeatedly. Capital D Destiny, a fundamental force of the multiverse, was slain by the power of a guy with a gun and a weird dog.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months

Text

Trust [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

wc: 7.8k

summary: something goes wrong with a heist and Kaz's anger lashes out at you, only later realizing it's not for the reasons you thought.

A/N: I feel like it took me literally YEARS to write this. Someone requested the central idea but I decided to expand a bit and since in anon he mentioned that they like hurt/comfort I hope I have achieved it. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

warnings: trauma (again)

taglist: @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

As soon as you stepped foot inside The Slat, you felt enormous relief to think that you could finally get some rest. The day before, the boss had told you that it was necessary to recover something and had drawn up a general outline of how things would be carried out, so to avoid mistakes, instead of sending just one group, the whole team would go. But at a certain point things had gone wrong and then the whole mission had gone awry. You were scared and everyone else was scared, but you knew that Kaz was probably the most upset about it. He hadn't spoken to anyone since you had to flee the mansion.

“Well, I declare that a resounding failure. Good night, my friends,” Jesper said, holding his side with a wince. Wylan was at his side to catch him in case the pain buckled his knees.

You sighed, defeated, and started walking towards the stairs to take a shower to remove all traces of dust, blood, and shame that you had impregnated on your skin, however, Kaz's cane stopped hitting you in the stomach, blocking your way and suffocating you at the same time.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. You asked yourself if he was referring to your plans, which he obviously couldn't know about, and why he was upset, but it didn't take anything more to get an answer, "What the fuck was that in the mansion?"

Oh, that is what he meant.

To recap a bit, your goal that night was to recover a few bags of cash that a new gang at The Barrel had stolen but originally belonged to the Crow Club, i. e you guys. It was a payment for an exchange that Kaz had made days ago with art supplies or something, it was a business that none of you were very involved in.

The black-haired man knew the place where it was kept (he always seemed to know the whole city like the back of his hand) and so he had drawn up a pretty solid plan with which you could get away with it. Regularly his plans contemplated in the most opportune way each of your abilities: guns, stealth, the Grisha qualities, strength, chemicals, and the skills with your hands in which you surpassed the man. It was almost like something in you and your friends used to joke that your hands were a kind of magnet for everything shiny, although those same hands also worked perfectly to use a pick and give access to many places.

Things were going well that night, until you had to make a last-minute decision when you found out that an unknown person was in the place and you wanted to get them out of there so they wouldn't be in the crossfire. That was the 'certain point' I had mentioned before, where everything got screwed up. It was about a poor and defenseless servant girl who started screaming like crazy when she saw you and although you tried to calm her down that was enough to draw the attention of the guards, who came towards you to capture you. And since you were very busy struggling with two armed goons, you couldn't fulfill your part of the plan, which was to open the vault where the money that you were going to steal was. It had been a rather unfortunate chain of events.

"Kaz, you know I didn't mean to…"

"Are you deaf, then?" he interrupted you, ignoring your attempt at justification. He took a step towards you, limping a bit due to the lack of a cane, and then you could see the expression on his face.

You'd only seen Kaz this angry once and the poor man who caused it was already resting in peace, so you cringed in on yourself like a scared little bird.

"Or why didn't you do what we agreed?" you didn't know if he wanted a verbal answer, but even if he had, what could you say to that? It was more than obvious why you had done it "If there is a plan, it is because that plan must be executed as I have said, if not, then what would it be?"

"I shouldn’t…"

"No, you shouldn't," he interrupted again, speaking louder than usual to look imposing. And boy he was doing it. “That was the stupidest thing you've ever done, and all for a damn maid? What were you thinking?

"I wanted to help her"

"Oh really? And how did she thank you? Yelling at the guards to come to get you! Did you think about that before acting? Do you ever consider the consequences?” his voice didn't drop in volume, but rather rose gradually with each word that came out of his mouth.

You were in a panic, somehow strangely having the strength to meet his angry eyes, for you didn't think he would start saying such things to you in front of everyone else, who had been silent since the exchange had begun. You tried to think of anything to defend yourself, but even if you found the right argument you knew you couldn't outsource it due to nerves.

Even with your devoted silence, Kaz did not seem satisfied and he continued speaking.

“You had to follow simple orders: wait for the signal and open the vault. Everyone stayed in their positions. Was it very difficult for you to do that?”

"Kaz, I don't think…" Jesper started to say, trying to help him out of the situation, but he fell silent as he watched the black-haired boy turn his head to look at him. It was true, you guys hadn't seen Kaz in that state more than a few times and even the gunslinger, who loved you immensely, thought it wiser to keep silent if he didn't want the opponent's anger to lash out at him.

"Look at Jesper," he said close to your face. If he hadn't been so averse to touching you, you were sure he would have held your face to keep your gaze on him, because by this point your eyes were cloudy and you were trying to focus on anything other than the conversation “He's hurt. You are hurt. Imagine what would have happened if we hadn't been able to get out in time or if Inej hadn't come to your rescue, do you think those men would have tempted their hearts before killing all of us? Of course not! There's no room for charity here because until that servant was in real danger, she wasn't your problem. You behaved stupidly and those actions affected all of us” Kaz fell silent and you thought that was it. You were with your arms crossed, perhaps as an unconscious act of seeking protection, not daring to look at him.

But he took a few seconds to examine you and then said something else:

It is your fault that we are now in this state; without a single penny in our pockets.

The words your fault, and without a penny were the cause of a tug across your chest. It was useless to hold back the tears that had already treacherously begun to slide down your cheeks and that you wished you had the strength to wipe off with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing.

In all the time you had belonged to the crows he had never spoken to you like that. There had been disagreements, of course, and he'd even called you out for neglecting some tasks he'd given you, but those kinds of hurtful words were reserved for criminals from whom he extracted information or threatened. That's why you were so upset, because Kaz was terrifying when he put his mind to it and you'd just had the misfortune to experience it firsthand.

The rest of your friends were also perplexed by what had just happened, since most of them had found your outburst in the mansion quite justifiable, since it was an innocent life that you had tried to protect, a very present code always.

The other part that had managed to break you was knowing that the man's annoyance was actually due to the money you had caused him to lose rather than the fact that you or someone else had been in danger. Or at least that was what you had understood by the final sentence.

The silence was sepulchral, no one even dared to breathe harder than usual for fear that he would take them as the next victim, and only a small sob that escaped you broke the silence. You hoped that would soften Kaz’s expression a bit, but he didn't flinch.

A part of you thought, due to shock, to apologize to him, but you weren't even able to. You just stood in the middle of that room under his questioning gaze.

When your body finally wanted to react, you walked directly to the stairs to go up to your room, without even looking back, collapsing on the floor and crying as soon as you closed the door behind you. You didn't even think about taking a shower anymore and the burning pain in your ribs, which you hadn't mentioned to anyone about, intensified. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so that the crying wouldn’t reach the floor below and you felt that everything around you was spinning.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, which felt like hours, until someone opened the door and stuck their head inside. It was Nina, who had surely gone of her own free will but also partly at the request of others. She could hear your erratic heartbeat and your lungs struggling to hold some air, so it didn't take her more than a second to kneel next to you to wrap her arms around you and start running her hand up and down trying to comfort you. She offered to heal you and you agreed, but through it all you thought that even though the blows on your body burned like hell, what was definitely causing you the most pain was the wounds you just received to your heart.

After that night you could say that the tension in The Slat could be cut with a knife. You thought that the others were also going to blame you for the failure of the heist, with justifiable reasons, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out that this wasn’t the case, since they all told you so explicitly as soon as they had a chance. Matthias, who was most of the time the most mature among you, told you that sometimes things went wrong and that at least he was glad that you were okay; with Nina there, the physical problems could be solved and the money would be recovered somehow. But, to your surprise, it was Kaz they weren't very happy with.

You never meant to start a mutiny against the boss, God knows you didn't, but as much as you tried to change their minds, they were distant and reluctant to talk to Brekker. And Kaz, in turn, didn't exchange a single word with you.

Jesper and Nina were the ones who showed it the most, the first one kept looking down at your friend as if he could make him combust spontaneously with his eyes while the woman simply didn't say anything, as if he were invisible. The rest of the group hadn't cut off the communication suddenly, but it was evident that they weren't entirely happy with the black-haired man's behavior.

Although there were few occasions when the seven of you, or the majority, coincided in the same space, since you were always doing other things around The Barrel or the club.

You weren't the proud type, yet you refused to offer an apology for something that wasn't wrongdoing and finally stopped feeling guilty for applying this silent treatment to thinking that Kaz deserved it. Just a little. Also, if he didn't bother to talk to you, everything would be easier for you, because, although you still did some general tasks, most of the time you spent locked in your room, doing anything to entertain yourself.

If you looked at it from the outside, unaware that you guys were a bunch of criminals living in the same horrible building, that looked like a real teenage fight. But you couldn't blame yourself too much, because you were teenagers.

Sometimes, when he didn't notice, you watched him from afar. You analyzed his expression, his posture, his eyes, anything that would help you figure out if he really cared about your absence or the silence of others. You tried to believe that he was in a bad mood (more than usual) because he wanted you to not be angry anymore, but after a long time you always came to the same conclusion; he was inscrutable, shielded in that armor that you highly doubted could shatter, much less by you. Sometimes you wished you could know what Kaz was thinking so you could figure out if he had noble motives for acting the way he did or if he was just a heartless jerk. And, although your desire to read minds wasn’t fulfilled, you began to bet more on the latter the day a new job was presented. It was, now, a kind of revenge against the men of the opposing gang (who had stolen your business payment in the first place), however, when the meeting took place you noticed that he was skipping a detail.

"And what will Y/N do?" Jesper had asked, going ahead of you, after listening carefully to the plan and realizing that you weren't contemplated anywhere. You expected Kaz to say you were going to stick with him, even if it was so he could keep an eye on you and avoid another outburst, but when he shook his head you were completely offended.

"She's not coming"

It was one thing to have received a scolding for the mistake made and quite another to be removed from the team just like that. And that Kaz had responded as if you weren't there made you feel completely humiliated and, consequently, angry.

"Great, so now it turns out that I'm grounded," you said sarcastically. It was the first time in weeks that you had spoken directly to Kaz and he just looked at you sideways for a few seconds, as if examining you, which made your blood boil even more "Are you really going to leave me out?" you continued, now with more seriousness than before. You wished he dared to face you with an answer, and you were surprised at how quickly this happened.

"It’s not personal. This time it’s better that you stay” was all the explanation he offered you. The way he said it made it clear to you that it wasn't up for discussion and you felt powerless, but before any of your friends could say anything in your defense, you decided to take it the best way.

If Kaz didn't want you around, you weren't going to make him. If you didn't receive even a measly part of the money from now on, you didn't care. If it was true that you had screwed up, you weren't sorry for anything and you weren't going to give in so easily, despite the love and respect you felt for him.

“Good luck then,” was all you said, offering the best fake smile you could have and purposely patting Kaz on the shoulder. He watched you walk away with eyes wide open in surprise, even though you didn't even notice it when you got lost in the hallway, and it was hard for him to keep his composure as he turned around again to clear up any doubts regarding how the crime would be carried out; although he tried to hide it, almost most of the group could tell.

What the hell did Kaz have against you lately? The others had made mistakes countless times and never suffered consequences as harsh as yours, because probably the hardest part had been dealing with the boss's anger and being forced to find a solution for what they had screwed up. You probably would have offered to get the money back yourself if he had let you end the problem, but you couldn't even do that because you knew it would only fan the fires of anger.

So when you left there everyone thought that things had already gone on too long and someone had to point it out to Kaz.

"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking at the crows and receiving a general nod.

We would have to wait until night to work, so once there was nothing more to say, each one dispersed in opposite directions.

“Inej,” Kaz said, not even looking back. He knew she was there, he always knew, as if there was a connection between the two of them "Everything okay?"

“Everyone is where they should be. The carriage is on its way and the streets are free”

"Good"

“But there is something else we need to talk about”

Kaz was afraid it was something to do with you, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the possibility. They were on a roof, he too close to the shore to be able to supervise that the robbery was carried out effectively, and she took a few steps until she reached his side. The two kept looking down for a few seconds, preparing internally for what was coming; talking about feelings was never one of their strengths.

"What would that be about?”

"About who" she corrected him "This discussion with Y/N has already escalated to exacerbated levels, you didn't have to forbid her to come"

"And what did you want me to do?" he muttered, more upset than he would have liked, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “She's… was impulsive and… she doesn't measure the danger she's putting herself in. She is like a child, without conscience or limits”

“We all know that, but you called her stupid. That's very different."

“I don't want her to end up killing herself,” he said, and Inej caught a hint of sincere concern tinging her friend's voice. Kaz hated seeing himself like this, but there was something about her that made him trust her with that part of him. “Y/N acts with her heart, that's the problem. And I worry that she doesn't know how to control it. I don't want anyone to hurt her and she just doesn't cooperate” he sounded desperate, helpless, and then Inej realized how many things were being ignored by the team about the boss's decisions, apparently cruel, but quite considered in the background. It was like… acting badly for the right reasons. Or something like that.

“Well, if you really do this to safeguard her welfare, you should tell her. Because I don't think you're giving him the right message with your actions” Inej told him. Then she decided that she wasn't going to pry into the matter anymore from that point on, wishing that the conversation had been enough to make the black-haired man see reason.

He thought about it for a second and wished he could ask her more, but then he noticed that, as always, she had already vanished into the night.

Kaz tried very hard to focus on the robbery and stop thinking about you or what it would be wise to say to you, but he was having some trouble. In the next hour, to everyone's surprise in general, things went perfectly; there was no guard, just a driver who didn't resist, and they were coming back with some juicy loot. Almost too easy to be true.

Kaz didn't give much thought to the nature of the success they'd just had and they all just set off, their group spirits much better now that things were looking up.

It would be foolish to deny that Kaz had been thinking about how quickly you would have managed to carry out the robbery and also had missed the joking duo that you formed with Jesper, who now had barely looked at the blue-eyed man.

On the way he got a bit withdrawn and was mentally torturing himself about what was the right thing to do when he got home. After thinking it through, he concluded that he should take Inej’s advice and talk to you to fix things. Brekker wasn't used to apologizing, but at least he could explain things to you the way he had with the girl, so that you would understand better and hopefully forgive him for the idiotic behavior he had been displaying for the past few weeks. Although he was still upset, it was worth putting that aside to try.

After going to the club to save the cash they went back to The Slat and when he stood in front of your door he never thought to feel more nervous in life, while he started to ask himself if that was a good idea. Maybe he should just let time wash away your bad face and carry on as before... but he was also aware that that wouldn't happen.

He hesitated for a long time about whether to knock on your door or not, but after a few minutes he finally did and was frustrated when no one answered, despite a strip of light coming through the door grate.

"Y/N, I know you’re there" he tried, but there was no response. Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair and exhaled in frustration. "Fine, don't talk to me if you want, but that's not going to stop me from coming to tell you what I came to say," he muttered determinedly. Even trying to communicate assertively, he couldn't help but sound rude. “I didn't mean to yell at you like that when we got back from the heist, I just didn't know what else to do. And today I asked you to stay here because it could be dangerous and I'm trying to take care of you because apparently you don't give a damn about your own life, not because I hate you or because I'm upset with you. It's just that…” he was having a hard time talking, so he had to take a deep breath to collect himself a little “I worry about you. And I want you to be okay. Safe"

Kaz was silent, waiting for you to say something, but again there was nothing. He felt so foolish and embarrassed that he even thought his eyes were going to glaze over with helplessness. He was trying his best to go there, but you didn't seem to care, and honestly, he didn't blame you.

His gaze lowered to the floor, the pressing sensation of rejection flooding his chest, and only then did he notice the glow emanating from a section of the floor. With difficulty he knelt to take the substance with his fingers and his glove was stained with a fine powder that gave off an iridescent glow, which until that moment he had not realized he was scattered over various sections of the corridor. And next to that dust, there was a bloodstain.

Kaz didn't even wait for a second to lunge at your bedroom door and yank it open, which he hadn't done before out of respect for your privacy, only to realize that everything in there was turned upside down. There were remains of a smashed nightstand, books scattered on the floor, the bed in disarray, and sporadic stains of blood that he prayed weren't yours. The window was wide open and the white curtain billowed violently in the night air.

Someone had broken into your room and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together to find out what they had broken into. Someone had kidnapped you.

His eyes traveled all over the place looking for something that would give him clues and he decided to start rummaging through the books hoping to find a note, the amount for your ransom, whatever. When he read ‘We're even, Brekker’ written on yellowed paper and signed with the seal of a snake, he felt that his balance was missing.

That's why the robbery of the carriage had been so easy, because they had wanted it that way. Their plan was always to enter The Slat. You were there, alone, and they kidnapped you because Kaz had allowed it. Because in his eagerness to protect you, he had delivered you directly to the enemy.

It was all his fault.

"Jesper!" he screamed, on first impulse. He didn't know if it was difficult for him to get up from the floor due to dizziness or because of the limp “Inej! Wylan! Whoever!" he continued, wanting to get the attention of anyone who could help him. He was in a panic and he was also furious. He would be capable of torturing the men who had kidnapped you in the most horrible ways ever seen, as soon as he found out who they were.

All the people present in the building followed the sound of the boss's wailing and when they observed the state of your room a collective sigh of surprise filled the silence.

"Where is Y/N?"

“I don't know,” Kaz hissed, sounding desperate. That didn't even matter to him anymore "They took her, they set us up"

“We have to find her,” Matthias muttered, and he wanted to hit him for saying something so obvious. But he had to calm down, for everyone's sake.

"There's blood and this in the hallway," said the black-haired man, showing everyone the dust that still glittered on his glove.

"It's a trail," Wylan exclaimed, his features lighting up like when he had an idea. He stepped forward to analyze the sample and then nodded. “I gave this to her, it's a bioluminescent powder we were experimenting with. In theory, when…" he walked around the room as if looking for something until he found a box of matches that you had lying around "it comes into contact with the fire, it emits a blue flame" he explained, going into the corridor and demonstrating the information practically.

There was hope, if they hadn't taken you too far your friends might track you down and rescue you. You had been scared enough to leave a clue because you knew they would look for you.

In that moment Kaz felt so guilty that he had ever even suggested that he doubted your abilities.

“You have to follow it. We have to find where they took her right now” he ordered and, of course, no one argued. Everyone went ahead to get the necessary things to look for you and Kaz leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly in an attempt to contain one of those panic attacks he sometimes felt, not imagining that this would only be the beginning of an awful night.

And the worst wasn’t over yet.

The crows moved faster and more efficiently than ever before, and within minutes Wylan had figured out how to follow the trail. Sometimes there were long lines through the streets that were lit with a single match, but other times they had to look for them more carefully and that consumed time that Kaz considered vital. Although he wasn't saying anything the others could tell that he was quite upset by the situation, so they did their best. Also, you were part of the group, so they too were extremely worried.

By the time they reached Fifth Harbor, Kaz was already burning all the way down his leg, but that didn't matter to him. They were all out of breath, but that didn't matter. And the trail ended right at the pier, but that didn't matter because they saw in the distance a boat with two robust men, one of them holding a lamp and the other struggling with a girl tied by her hands and legs who was screaming in despair.

It was you and you were yelling Kaz's name.

They rushed to find a boat tied to the dock big enough for the six of them and when, luckily, they found it they jumped on it. Matthias and Jesper were in charge of rowing and the movement did not go unnoticed by the men who had you captured, nor by you.

A feeling of relief swept through you as you realized that the silhouettes approaching you were your friends and you felt that all was not lost. Kaz thought that they had arrived just in time and that calmed him down for a second, but he didn't count on the fact that the man would lift you off the ground and, with a sharp gesture that surprised everyone, he would throw you straight into the sea.

Your cry was drowned out by the roar of the water and the black-haired man's breath caught, while everything around him was spinning again. Until then he realized the position he was in: in the middle of the immensity of the sea, in danger of drowning. It was then that the memories of his brother's body came back to him like needles sticking in and he felt like he might vomit.

Kaz didn't know how to swim and even if he had known how to at some point in his life it was now impossible due to his limping leg. But he wasn't going to let you die. He can’t.

In the midst of the attack, he was dimly aware of what was happening. You were now within safe distance of the other boat which allowed Inej to throw a knife at one of the men and Jesper took it upon himself to put a bullet into the other. In hindsight, Kaz would have wished they had stayed alive so he could take it upon himself to give them a slow and painful death. There was no point in letting the men who had kidnapped you die so mercifully.

The water was dark and they couldn't see anything, but still Matthias was the one who ventured below the surface to find your body, hoping that when he did it wouldn't be too late.

Nina kept her hands up to monitor the beating of both your hearts and the rest stood without saying anything, looking expectantly out at the water that rolled in small waves. Only Kaz's erratic breathing broke the silence of the environment.

A few seconds passed, and when there was no sign of him or you, concern gripped the group. Now there wasn’t only the fear that you wouldn't get out of the water, but also that Matthias wouldn't and thus lose two members of the group. Nina winced when she heard one of the heartbeats slowed down considerably, though she didn't comment on it to the others.

When he finally surfaced everyone was relieved to see that he wasn't alone, even if your body was just an unconscious bundle that he was pulling with difficulty.

They still put you in the canoe and you had your limbs tied with rope, so Inej was in charge of cutting them with a knife, while the others crowded around you to try to see how you were.

“She's not breathing,” Matthias gasped. Nina knelt to try to expel the water from your lungs, but for some reason your body was resisting. If she didn't get the water out of your lungs, the lack of oxygen would permanently affect your brain.

"This isn't working," she snorted after several hand movements.

It was only then that Kaz dared to look at you. You were pale, wet, and a trickle of blood was coming from your forehead and you had some bruises. He never thought that he would feel the same pain that he seized when he traveled to the coast with the lifeless body of his brother.

Wake up, he wanted to tell you, but his voice wouldn't come out. You have to wake up.

Nina kept trying and until he finally saw you jump up to vomit up the salt water, he too felt like he could breathe again.

When you finally finished inhaling the air around you everyone bombarded you with questions to check your well-being and you just nodded to them all, a little dazed and scared. Nina took it upon herself to help with the cut and bruises, while the men took up the oars again to reach the dock.

Kaz was the last to get off the boat and he was also the last to enter The Slat, as if he needed to check that the rest of you had done it, since he didn't want to leave anyone behind again. Never.

“Let me accompany you,” he said. It was the first thing he had said to you after the incident and you were so exhausted that you didn't offer any resistance. When you walked up the stairs and into your room, you thought Kaz would leave without another word, but instead he stood in front of the door.

You looked at him with a neutral expression, trying to understand what he was trying to do.

"You were very intelligent" he began to say "When you left the trail"

"Thank you," you said quietly. Your throat was a bit sore from the water you had swallowed.

"How it happened?" he asked. The trip had made you recover a bit and you were calmer than before, so you didn't mind telling him things.

“They were supposed to be looking for your office, but they saw my light on and thought it would be a better idea to go after the helpless damsel. They got in through the window and… voila,” you said bitterly, gesturing with one hand at the mess around you. “They held me here and tied me to a chair, but the knots were so painful I got free in a few minutes. They interrogated me to ask about things of value or obtain some information, but I didn't say anything. My fighting could irritate them, but I think I really pissed them off when I smashed a vase over the head of one and plunged a knife into the other's leg. Maybe that's why they decided to throw me into the sea”

Kaz was a bit dismayed at how calmly you said things and he wondered if you really didn't care or were just pretending. Although he wanted to say the same things to you that he had said to your empty room a few hours ago, the truth was that remembering it made him feel ashamed. It had been a sincere apology, but he didn't think he could say it twice.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger," he said, stepping forward for more privacy. He watched your reaction to what he said and what he did, hoping that if you were still upset you would show it. But the near-death experience seemed to soften both of you.

"Why apologize? you didn't send those guys. It was just some… being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone."

“I know, but maybe if I hadn't asked you to stay here, they wouldn't have hurt you” he admitted and although you wanted to recriminate him for that, you decided to remain silent, feeling curious as to how far he could go with that talk "And if you don't… if you hadn't been smart right now you wouldn't be here”

"But I am" you answered with determination "And that's what hurts me, Kaz, that you doubt me" you expressed. You weren't going to forget so easily what had made you walk away in the first place and you thought it was the right time for him to know what you thought about it “I made a mistake, it's true and I take responsibility for that. But you didn't have to treat me like this."

"I know that too," he hastened to say, "I don't doubt you, I never have."

“It is not noticeable. Today you pushed me aside and you told us that trust is always the most important thing. And although I was stupid, I consider that this behavior is not worthy of making you stop trusting me just like that. You know I didn't do it to screw you over, I just wanted to save her."

“It's not about that woman, I don't care about her. You know that I too would have prevented her from getting hurt if the situation arose."

“Then what is it about? Is it only the mistake of the century if I make it?”

“This is about you, Y/N” Kaz said, pointing at you with his open palm and starting to sound desperate “I got so mad because you were the one who ended up in the hands of the enemy. I hate that you act like that because I care about you too much to allow myself to lose you”

You didn't expect that and he didn't expect to say it either. It was even more embarrassing than what he had refused to tell you in the first place.

He said that he didn't want to lose you and you thought about the meaning of that expression: did he not want to lose what you brought to the team or did he not want to lose your person?

"These weeks I thought you only hated me because I made you lose money"

"Oh, I do hate you a little for that," he said, taking a surprise "Not for the money itself, but for what that money implied" there was no point in keeping secrets, if Kaz had already started to sink then he preferred to do it completely and with dignity “The club is going through some difficulties, Y/N. I sold those things so I could keep it going. Because while our criminal jobs give us some kruge, you know that the main source of income for that group is the Crow Club. Also…” he felt his breath shake and had to take a moment to calm down “I've been thinking about something these past few months. A long time ago you said that you had always wanted to go to university, do you remember?” he asked you and you nodded your head “Jesper had the opportunity, but he is a lost cause, because he prefers this kind of life to having an office job or a quiet home and I respect that. But not you, you ended up here because you had no other options” Kaz was silent, hoping that if you had something to say you would say it now, but then he continued, “And I thought if I gave you some money you would have that opportunity. That way I could get you away from all these Dregs and you'd live the way you wanted. That's why that robbery was important”

You were totally stunned.

You never expected Kaz to have that opinion of you or even care about you to the degree that he had just confessed to you. He had listened to you, had seen beyond the apparent happiness of living in The Barrel to find your true dreams, so forgotten within yourself that you no longer thought you could reveal them to anyone else.

You mistakenly believed that the only thing that mattered to Kaz Brekker was dying suffocated by piles of money, but you had just realized that the true engine of life of the black-haired man was the love he had for that peculiar family that you made up.

“You… you know that's not necessary, right? You don’t have to do it"

"But I wanted"

The gap was less since Kaz had walked towards you and you decided, venturing a bit, to take another step towards him.

"Why didn't you tell us that the club has financial problems?" you asked softly, because you thought there could be no other way to talk to him in a situation like this.

"Because it wasn't important"

"Yes, it is, Kaz" you walked in his direction again. At that distance, if you raised your hand a little, he could reach to take hers "That's the point, you decide to swallow all the problems without talking to anyone and then we have no idea what ails you or why this or that is so important. Jesus, if you had told me that money was so vital, I would have put my life into opening that vault as quickly as possible” it was at that moment that you really regretted what you had done and thought that, if possible, you would have returned in time to listen to him and not just your instincts.

"It does not matter anymore. I can't spend my life telling you all the bad things that happen around here."

“You should do it, Kaz. We are a group and we can't just enjoy the rewards without knowing the sacrifice, stop burdening yourself with that alone” he warned seriously “You take care of all of us, but then who takes care of you?”

His reaction was the same as you had a moment ago: stupefaction. Kaz didn't know at what point in his life he had to become that, but he thought that perhaps Jordie's death was decisive for him to have to fulfill the role of the person he had just lost. To be for others what no one had been for him, so they would not suffer what he had suffered. It was quite an altruistic act if he thought better of it.

But after so many years it was exhausting and he wished he could just fall into someone else's arms to rest, figuratively speaking. And there you were right in front of him, probably the person he loved the most, with an expression that reflected a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

So Kaz thought that, maybe for once, it was okay for him to be vulnerable.

“I had an older brother” he murmured, after a long while and you were a bit confused by the sudden change of subject, but you nodded your head so he knew you were listening “He died during the plague epidemic. And miss him so much"

You knew little, if anything, of the personal life of the man in front of you, so you didn't know how to react to the disclosure of that fact. You imagined a little Kaz, scared and sad because his brother was gone. You didn't think for a second about the horrible things he had to go through and that he, with some luck, would dare to tell you later.

But even with this paltry piece of information you couldn't help but feel enormous compassion. He was human, like everyone else, and he was afraid that death would come to take another person important to him. Now you understood better.

"What was his name?" you asked in a whisper, as gently as possible. Kaz was silent for a moment, reflecting no sentiment, then swallowed.

"Jordie"

You weren't going to ask him any more questions after that, you just looked into his eyes and you knew that this was his way of telling you that he trusted you to keep that shred of his past.

"Well, I think Jordie would be happy to know that now there are six of us who love you as he did" was what you replied. You didn't know if it was the answer he expected, but at least it was the one that had come from your heart. When he looked at you, you swore that his eyes were teary, although later you convinced yourself that it had only been an effect of the light.

"I hope we're fine now" he murmured, regaining his composure, referring to the problems that had existed between you after that discussion.

"Calm down, everything is fine. I know you can't live without me."

"Actually, I've had enough of Jesper seeing me with those murder-eyes."

"Then you noticed," you joked. You were completely exhausted and at that moment you were even more conscious, as if you were going to pass out the next second “Everything is fine” you repeated “I just hope this doesn't happen again. I… will try to be less impulsive. And you have to tell me if something's wrong and we'll figure it out, okay?"

Kaz hummed back and you put on a tight-lipped smile. Then you looked around you to analyze the chaos that had been left by the fight with those men, feeling exhausted just thinking that you would have to pick up the pieces of wood, the books, or clean the stains, and he realized what you were thinking by the look on your face.

“I'll send someone to clean all this up tomorrow, I promise. For now, you just… lie down”

"For the first time, I'm not going to argue with you," you laughed bitterly. Then a yawn invaded you and you felt your eyelids tremendously heavy, which he perceived. Kaz didn't want to leave there, even if you were on the verge of exhaustion, however, he didn't know what excuse to use to stay “Good night, Kaz. You should rest too"

"Yeah, um... I'll do it"

“Good”

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Have you really forgiven me?" he asked, looking to make sure you weren't upset anymore. You smiled and, amid your delirium from exhaustion, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. He paled and held his breath, but you didn't notice.

“As much as you have forgiven me for screwing up the mission. Now go and sleep"

Perhaps it was the shock of receiving something like this from you that caused Kaz to practically run out of your room, without even saying goodbye, staying in the hallway for a moment to process things. The speed of the contact hadn't given him time to panic, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pumping of his heart hammering like crazy under his chest and hot cheeks under the memory of your lips on them.

When he locked himself in his room he tried to calm down, when he was taking off his clothes to put on his pajamas he tried again, washing his hands and face, going through paperwork before going to sleep, lying down on the bed, closing the eyes... but nothing worked.

And eventually he fell asleep with the ghost of your kiss haunting him through dreams.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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joshlmbrt · 1 month

Text

˚ ✦.·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚ MESSY CAKES | e. munson x fem!reader

w; this is part of my ‘truck driver!dad!eddie’ au - but can be read without reading the au, r IS a afab, pregnancy mentions, r’s pov mostly, this takes place before eddie officially becomes a truck driver

an; this will probably flop but thought it was a cute idea :) i hope you all enjoy.

The sound of drills fill your ears - the plastic between your hands grows wet with the sweat from your palm.

“Eddie, your little lady is here!” Bo, a kind man with tattoos and a full beard who liked to share jokes and advice, calls out over a Guns N’ Roses song you recognized from Eddie. “How are you?” He wipes his hands and face, only smearing the grease further before holding his arms out for a hug.

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around the man before pulling away. Bo never made you feel uncomfortable, always giving you a chance to back out of a hug and opting to just wave instead. “I’m okay. How’s things here?” You glance around at the full garage. You realize Eddie is working on Steve’s car.

“Luckily, we aren’t short handed today like usual. But you probably don’t want to hear about that - boring talk,” He rolls his eyes. You giggle softly watching as he makes his way over towards the desk. “Go ahead and talk to Eddie. It’s almost his break anyway. Just be careful, don’t want you tripping and hurting yourself.”

“You got it.” You salute him, watching as a smile tugs at his mouth and a roll of his eyes as he turns, grabbing a wooden pencil. True to your word, you’re careful while passing over the legs that stick out from under a nice car, or tools lying on the cement ground stained with grease and maybe little spots of blood from injuries.

Eddie has come home with a couple of cuts and bruises.

Your hand meets his back and he lifts quickly, hitting the top of his head against the edge of the propped hood. You hiss as if it hurt you, a hand immediately reaching out and landing on top of his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You apologize immediately, eyes rounded as you stare at his scrunched up face.

“It’s okay,” He breathes. You frown, eyes looking at his fingers that scrunch up and push slightly at the sore spot. His right eye opens and peeks over at your worried expression. “Really. It’s okay. I was just in my head.”

Your lips stay turned down in a frown as your eyes never leave his fingers. “What about?”

“How junky Steve’s engine is and how I’m gonna balance college, work, and home life.”

Suddenly your hand drops and your heart clenches. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” He chuckles softly. His own arm drops by his side and he turns to look at you. “Why do you keep apologizing, sweetheart?” He reaches out and swipes under your eye, wiping the small smudge of mascara away.

“I just…” Feel guilty. “I don’t know.” You look down at his boots, watching as they step closer.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted to go to college to get a better job. Not that I won’t miss this,” He motions around the garage, a small smile lifting at the corner of his lips. “I just don’t want us to struggle… maybe even save up for a house.” His hand grabs yours, messing with your fingers.

You smile at the thought, nodding. “I’d like that,” You whisper softly. “I brought you lunch. Thought I could stay with you.”

His brows lift and stare at the bag you lift up. “What did you bring?”

“I was craving some noodles, so I went to get some hibachi.”

“Steak?”

“And chicken if you’d like some of my chicken.”

“No. You need to eat something other than the noodles and fried rice,” You open your mouth and he’s quick to press his lips against yours. He pulls away. “Don’t deny it. Come on, we can go to my van.” His hand grips yours and he’s pulling you along with him towards the back door. He opens it for you, allowing you to walk out first.

You smile and step outside, feeling his hand meet your back as he leads you towards his van, pulling out his keys. He unlocks your door first, pulling the door open. You thank him and slip inside, separating the food quickly.

Your stomach rumbles and you wait for Eddie to slip into the car as well, opening your plastic fork. The door squeaks open and he slips inside, slamming the door shut - it was an old van, so that was the only way to make sure it shuts.

You finally open the styrofoam lid that kept the noodles warm, immediately digging in. His brows lift as he watches you, a small smile lifting at the corner of his mouth. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Mmm…” You chew as you think to yourself, eyes lifting to stare at the roof of the car, some of the gray felt that covered it was starting to become unglued. “Yes. Those little french toast squares and eggs and a pop tart - you know. The best poptart.”

He narrows his eyes. “The hot fudge ones are the best.”

“To you. The best is the brown sugar one. Heated up with a glass of milk,” Your eyes gleam. “I think I’m gonna eat another one when I get home. By the way, what time are you coming home?”

“Probably around 8.”

“Okay.”

His brows lift when you don’t elaborate, chewing his steak slowly as he stares at you. “Why?”

You look over at him, mouth greasy from the noodles. “Just wondering,” You shrug. “Might have you a little something.” You smile.

He chuckles softly and reaches over, wiping the grease from the corner of your mouth. “Can’t wait.”

You smile at him and turn back to eating your food.

And true to his word, Eddie was home at 8 at night. He stopped on the rickety porch, finishing his cigarette before stepping into the trailer. Wayne had finally stopped smoking and he didn’t want to bother either one of you with the smell.

When he steps in, it’s dark, all except the kitchen, the glow of orange leading him in. His brows lift as he stares at you, eyes slipping down towards the cake you had decorated the best you could. Suddenly, he’s nervous.

“Uh… Did I miss something?”

You giggle softly and shake your head. “No, silly. Come here.” He lets out a small relieved breath, making his way over and dropping his keys on the table. It’s easy to navigate his way around the kitchen to you, arms winding around your waist as he pulls you closer. He gives you a quick peck, pulling his head away, lifting a brow.

“Is that… a hot fudge pop tart I taste.”

“…No,” You say. He smirks. “But, look at the cake. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” He hums softly, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“You didn’t even look look at it, Eds. Look!” You turn his head. He lets out a groan, looking at it. He finally notices the writing in red icing.

‘Baby Munson On The Way!’

His eyes leave the cake and he quickly turns to look at you. “What?”

Your smile drops a bit, head tilting. “I… I’m pregnant?” Your heart pounds by the sound of his voice, hands starting to sweat. You’re a bit unsure now about the whole prospect of being pregnant now.

“You… You’re pregnant?” He tilts his head. You nod, teeth pulling at your bottom lip. His eyes drop to your stomach and you instantly wrap your arms around the area. “How far along?”

“A month.”

He smiles a bit, hands landing on your biceps, gripping softly. “You’re… you’re pregnant?” His voice wavers and he lifts his eyes to meet yours. Your smile finally comes back, although small, and you nod.

“Yeah… You want to see the ultrasound?”

“Yes. Yeah.” He nods quickly. You nod and walk past him, reaching into your purse, holding the black and white photo out towards him. He grabs the photo, staring at it. You step up close to him, arms wrapping around him. Your cheek rests against his bicep, the smell of grease and sweat from a long day and faded cologne invading your nose.

“Is that…?” He points to a small looking bean. You giggle softly and nod.

“Mhm… That’s our little bean.”

His finger runs over the photo before placing it down, turning towards you and immediately wraps his arms around your frame. Your lift onto your toes slightly, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hand finds its way into his curls.

His hands slide around towards your stomach as he pulls away, kneeling down. His knees crack and he winces. “Hi, bean,” He whispers. “I can’t wait to meet you.” His lips press to your stomach and you giggle softly.

He lifts back up, pushing the loose strands that cover your cheeks behind your ears, before cupping your cheeks. His thumbs trace under your eye, catching a tear that falls. “Are you happy?” He whispers.

“Unbelievably so,” Your nose nudges his. “What about you? Are you happy?”

He grins. “I think it’s metal.” You giggle softly when he swoops in, pressing kisses all over your face, hands gripping at your sides.

He pulls away and notices the look on your face. “You know… my back is hurting.”

It’s only a slight lie. You’d gotten nervous and switched around the room and living room, which Eddie hadn't noticed just yet, and went on rampant ‘cleaning and moving stuff around’.

“Would my lovely girl like to have a massage?”

“And a head rub.” You nod.

He huffs out a laugh, nodding. “Anything for you. But… can we eat some cake first?”

You laugh softly and press a peck to his lips. “Of course.”

— @stveharringtn 2024

thanks for reading! reblogs, comments, likes, feedback, & requests are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated.

#cherry writes ✿#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #jospeh quinn x reader

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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heyyy. so what if reader and joel got in a really big argument because he wasn’t being safe and putting his life on the line and that pissed her off. so joel gets on a horse, and rides off into the sunset in true cowboy fashion. when she’s on a supply run with some of the other people from tommy’s town, they find joel, injured and hiding out in a barn. she didn’t recognize him at first, and pointed her gun at him but when he’s like “it’s me.” she’s all like “for fuck’s sake, joel. i almost shot you.” “someone already did.” and yeah feel free to take that anywhere u want <3

that's such a cinematic idea!! you've got a good imagination, Sof. thanks for the request. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, mentions of past attempted suicide, hurt/comfort, fluff. [WC: 1.7k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ foolish ꒱

All of his recklessness had a direction. A purpose.

Joel had no reason to tend to his own life with careful hands. Not when those same hands had inflicted so much damage already. When they'd caused so much destruction. He knew how to direct his anger and reckless behavior well—to protect, evade, survive.

All of that kept him away from building any kind of real relations, but that goes up in flames after Ellie. And then it really disappears after you.

Joel's scared again. He panics. He cares, and he talks about himself, and he lets spill out secrets he never once spoke about.

He's just not ready for what comes after they're out in the open.

“I just can’t concentrate if I’m worried about you going in with your knuckles and elbows to someone’s fucking face instead of at least trying to keep it cool. y’know? I don’t know. Call me crazy, Joel. I thought you could control yourself.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That just ain’t fair. Was I supposed to do nothin’?”

“Yes! Exactly. If you’d given me at least one second—”

“He asked if you up for offer. I should’ve fuckin’ killed, him.”

“Joel, he could’ve asked ‘if the little bitch worth a quarter or 10 bucks’ and I couldn’t give less of a shit—”

“You—I swear to god.”

“He’s an animal! And a fucking idiot. But he was the idiotic animal with the goddamn information. Which we needed. And now we don’t have, ‘cause he and his buddies have ran back to wherever the hell they’re hiding and we’re never gonna see them again. And they had the real deal—they had medicine we need that are lacking in the stock.”

“I know. I know. Fuckin’ hell, I know.”

“... you know I’d help you do anything you wanted, right? I don’t care about what they say. And I’d wanna kill anyone who disrespected you like that, too, but we gotta be at least smart before we’re emotional.”

“...Tommy’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I’ll talk to him. Make something up.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know. But I’m gonna.”

“...thank you. … I really am sorry, ‘kay? I’m still gettin’ used to—I just. I saw red.”

“And I get that.”

“...you really do, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Remember how I acted at that river trade? Because of what that man said about you?”

“Couldn’t forget it if someone blew my brains away. … You’re a lil’ crazy, baby, y’know that?”

“Coming from you, Miller. That’s rich.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda beautiful. You’re like—a force o’nature, or somethin’. Fuck, I’m sorry—I’m drunk—but listen. I won’t fuck up again.”

“I know you’ve got my back. I just want you to have yours, too. I worry about you and how you dive head first into dangerous shit ‘cause when it comes to you, you don’t think.”

“... had no reason to, ‘till recently.”

“Well, now you do. Should’ve always had, but now you really do ‘cause there are people, like Ellie, like Tommy, like me, who are gonna be pretty pissed off if you’re stabbed again anytime soon. Don’t make me go feral and have to kill a fucker ‘cause you know me by now. I have the whole thing where I have to bury the bodies I’m responsible for and, honestly—have pity on my back’s sake, Joel. I don’t got the back for that shit anymore.”

“You’re so—can’t believe your fuckin’ jokes sometimes.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m crazy too, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“‘don’t got the back for it’. You’re—You know, I never thought I’d be this happy I didn’t blow my brains out. Last time I thought that Ellie was standin’ on top of a fuckin’ dinosaur and—”

Joel shivered.

You found him as you were searching a barn on a supply run with Tommy, the day after he ran away on Shimmer’s back.

A stom had followed his departure, not minutes later, and he was still out of the gates when the time to close them came by, which meant he’d been locked out. Tommy was the one to give the ‘ok’ for the gatekeepers to shut them down, his face twisted into a painful twist and an apologetic look sent your way, but it was also Tommy who nodded his agreement to go with you when you announced you were going out the very next morning despite the horrible weather and the feet of snow making everything ten times harder.

It was obvious to you he couldn’t have gone far.

When you find him, Joel speaks up first. “It’s me.” He somehow heard you coming before you saw him.

Of course he did. It’s Joel.

The voice still makes you flinch—Joel was kneeling on the ground with his thickest jacket wrapped around him and his knees pulled up, and—”Jesus Christ, Joel. I almost fuckin’ shot you.”

As you’re lowering your gun, he goes. “It’s happened before.”

It’s such an oddly-timed joke that it halts your steps toward him, but then, his eyes find yours and it happens, just like always. You two share a private, ‘this is a fucked up joke, but we find it funny either way’ laugh. The same one that bonded you two.

You kneel beside him, taking out the blanket you brought in your backpack exactly for this, and wrap it around his shoulders, rubbing him up and down on his arms and his back.

When you’re satisfied with your job — he quit shivering — you finally make eye contact.

“You got stuck because of the storm, right?” your question comes out in a whisper, and your breath fogs up the air between the both of you.

You didn’t run away, right?

Joel takes a deep breath, and nods. His eyes close for a moment before he leans in slowly until his forehead is touching yours.

“Told you I wouldn’t do that.” Joel said those words a couple of months ago, and you still had trouble wrapping your head around them. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I like it here. With you.

“‘kay.” Your lips search his in the dark and find them waiting for the kiss already. With your hands still on his shoulders, you can feel a lot of tension dissipating when you sigh into the kiss, and Joel seems to fully come back to his body. You pull away against your will, and take a few seconds before you’re able to open your eyes.

His warmth always spreads through you like an oven slowly heating up.

“‘m sorry if I scared you.”

It’s inevitable—a smile blossoms in your face, and you start laughing.

“What?” Joel asks, confused and serving the biggest doe eyes in your direction.

For someone who punched first and asked questions later, a night stuck with the howling story winds made quick work of reminding him he was cared for. “Nothing.” I love you. “You did scare me. I spent all night thinking about whether you were okay or not.” The doe eyes seem to glisten with the soft light, and it pulls you in to seal your lips on his again. “But it’s ok. I just wanna go now and run you a hot bath and massage… all of your body. Is that ok? Can I do that?”

Joel’s eyes said I’ve never felt more vulnerable and that’s going to be a lot, but it also said it’s exactly what I need and I don’t know how to say that out loud. From his lips, it came out, “I… yeah. Yeah, ya can. I wanna… Wash your hair. And—you. ‘s that weird?”

“It’s not.”

“I like that smile on you. ‘s my favorite.”

“I am so happy I left Tommy behind.” Joel laughs at that, and he makes a move to get up. “I’m serious. We’d never hear the end of this.”He gets up with your help, and you two can walk side by side, leaning on each other and not speak of the storm that passed and carried more than just heavy snow all around. The things that are rising and growing between you are deep-rooted somewhere—nothing seems to shake you and Joel away. Only closer together. Tighter. Realer.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌

#usernexusnyx #nyx10fireplace.ೃ࿐#joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫

pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft enemies to lovers, minors dni

word count: 3.4k

summary: when you met him the first time him and his brother was your captor, months later he becomes yours, and quickly after that he become a resident of Jackson. You've already forgiven him for his past, but he's not happy with how eager you are to excuse what he's done.

warnings: tommy having a hero complex, tommy lashing out, piv sex, time skips, oral (giving & receiving)

a/n: the format I've written this in is inspired by @littlemisspascal 's getting lost is being found joel fic, which I highly recommend by the way it was amazing, one of my favorite things ever 💜

The world went to shit, well joke on the world, your life was already shit long before outbreak day.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Nothing just seemed to work out for you. But then all hell broke loose and suddenly it felt like you were off the hook, that you could be someone else, someone you always wanted to be. Someone that you knew you were. Before all this, you were just hurt, felt broken, but still smiled and went about your day. You tried to be good. Tried to be nice. For the most part, you like to think that you succeeded.

You became a guide. Somewhat similar to Charon, if you spared yourself the thought but instead of guiding the dead to Hades, you guided the living away from it. Things went smooth for the most part, you helped people where they needed to go, killed infected, shot down those who shot first. It was the oddest type of freedom that you felt.

But life had other plans, and life loved to point its middle finger right into your face.

It’s a dad and his two kids this time, you were helping them get to the nearest QZ. You cut the fence, helped them through, you knew hunters were lurking nearby, people who survived on killing and stealing—vultures.

You feel a tight grip on your neck and you’re being violently pulled back. The kids look back at you with horror lingering in their eyes, the dad eager to pull them away. With a deep breath, you manage to force out a smile.

“Go!” you shout. “You’re almost there!”

And they run, they run as fast as they can.

“Fuck!” you hear one of them say, a deep souther drawl heavy in your ear. “Shit, they got away. They had good weapons on them too.”

“At least we got the one,” the man that holds you answers. “Let’s go back, see what this one has.”

“Let me the fuck go!” you struggle, attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “You fucking assholes. They were fucking kids.”

Finally one comes into view, he’s broad—broad enough to stun you into silence. The fear of death lurks around your heart, sucking you into a black pit of realizing that this might be it. He has a glare that could kill, a hooked nose, and, most importantly, a gun. This man, you notice, this man would kill you in a heartbeat. He gives you one last once-over before tilting his head to the other holding you down.

“Knock her out, Tommy.”

ii.

It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be awake. The embers of the crackling fire had died down, only specks of golden orange shimmering between the ash. You’ve learned the names of your captors; Tommy and Joel. Brothers, you assumed, they didn’t really have to spell it out for it to be obvious.

You’re not sure why you’re still alive. You remember Joel muttering something about using you as bait, or to learn more about the routes that you seemed to know. Tommy had agreed.

In another life, another time, you would’ve deemed the men attractive. Especially Tommy. He had a boyish charm to him, longer hair compared to his brother (those poor dark locks had definitely seen better days), and mussed unkempt facial hair indicating that they’d been at this for a long time. You understand, to a degree, why someone might choose this to survive. Some people just didn’t know what else to do. Some people simply enjoyed it; the power, the freedom, the giddiness of not having a system to say no.

From what you understand, these two just had no idea what else to do. Too far off to reach a QZ, or they simply don’t trust FEDRA, whatever it is they seem to have made a life for themselves neither of them looked happy to be in.

Your eyes fall to where Joel is sleeping, Tommy’s on watch, which makes you somewhat hopeful, you don’t have the strength to piss off Joel—Tommy you can take a chance with, he seemed softer. Softer like a rose, pricking you if you’re too lax and not careful enough.

You’ve been captured before, and due to that, it doesn’t take long for you to free yourself from the hard ropes they tied you in. You hold your breath as you move away from the camp, careful not to step on any branches or rubble. You see Tommy ahead, he’s looking at you, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You expect him to shoot, to chase after you.

He continues to stare as you disappear into the night.

ii.

You see a lot of dead bodies by the riverbed. Some infected, some not. You think about turning around, walking back to where you came from but before you can make a decision you’re surrounded. Your hands rise instantly, not wanting to cause trouble. Multiple rifles are pointed directly at you, and you notice a cute black dog but you have an inkling you won’t be feeling the same in a couple of minutes.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” you say, the cold seeping through your jacket. “Just lost. I’m not infected.”

“Naive for you to think we’ll believe you,” one of the horsemen answers. “You mind if we test that out?”

You didn’t mind, but even if you did, you doubt you have any say in the matter. The dog comes forward, ears pressed against his skull, and you instinctively reach out your hand. You can’t really feel the wetness of his nose, but you can imagine it as he presses into your gloved palm. A moment later he starts wagging his tail.

A horse, along with its rider, steps up and everyone looks nervously at the equestrian. You straighten yourself and notice that even the dog pulls away, the energy she has demands respect, and oozes power. You swallow, looking up at her with both amusement and fear.

"You can come with us," she says, and without hesitation, one of the men helps you up onto the horse they're riding. Your hands fumble nervously as you grab onto the horse's shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

You’re not dead yet so you must be doing something right.

iv.

You trudge through the biting snow, your skin prickles with cold and the relentless flakes melt as soon as they touch your skin. You shudder. The cold is almost unbearable, but everyone has to pull their weight, no exceptions. Narrowing your eyes,, you spot a lone figure struggling in the snow. The way he moves is sluggish and ungainly, like a snail inching its way along a path.

With a sharp whistle, you signal to your companions to follow. They circle around the body with hesitation; it’s a man, a man that is somewhat familiar to you. The stranger groans and turns to his back, chest heaving heavily, you notice the tremble of his lips, the redness of his nose. You even notice the build-up of snow in his hair.

You know him. You have no idea how he ended up all the way here, but you know him. Getting off the horse, you shake your head. You don't know him, not really. You only know his name and what he represents.

Ian approaches, his eyes questioning as he asks, "What should we do? Should we leave him?"

“I know him,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice due to the irony. “Let’s take him in. I’ll talk to Maria.”

His eyes flutter open, a brief expression of confusion appearing on his features. You can’t help but lean over a bit, hands placed on your hips.

“You’re not dead yet. Don’t worry.”

But as soon as the words leave your lips, Tommy loses consciousness.

He’s alone at the bar. He’s always alone.

Initially, Maria was reluctant to let Tommy stay, but for some reason, you vouched for him. You deeply believe that everyone deserves a second chance. A slightly foolish, maybe even childish, thought on your part but you can’t help it. In his eyes you only see parts of a broken man, his belief in the world shattered and gone with the wind.

Tommy struggles with socializing. He says hi and good morning but that’s pretty much all anyone can get out of him. You’re the only one who knows he has a brother, what he’s done. He’s especially annoyed when you’re around, which you think is a little bit unfair but you digress. He does what he’s told and handy with most things—which is lucky for you, you would hear a handful if he couldn’t do anything.

You want to talk to him, you have ever since you first saw him again. Hoping that this time it’ll be different, you sit near him not next to him. There are two empty seats between you two.

“Hi,” you greet him, he doesn’t look at you. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge you at all. “How are you?”

No answer.

“You’re not having any issues right? You know, heating, water pressure, all that jazz.”

You’re not surprised at the least when he gets up and leave, not a word uttered. He pushes past the crowd and disappears through the door, into the cold. Unlike other times, this is the first instance where anger simmers hot in your gut. You’ve been nothing but patient. But not tonight. He’s going to talk to you whether he likes it or not.

With anger in your steps, you storm out. Luckily, he’s not far. You find him staring up at the undecorated Christmas tree. Normally, you would find it a somber sight, but you’re too frustrated to think about how good he looks with snow falling around him.

“Tommy!” you yell out, and he flinches, head snapping to you with wide eyes. “What the hell is your deal?”

“My deal?” he answers, voice eerily smooth and calm. “I should be fuckin’ asking you that.”

You’re standing an inch from him, the cold biting into your skin. “My deal? I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Wouldn’t wanna play that card but may I remind you that you’re fucking alive because of me? You could at least not be an asshole.”

“Sure you wanna go that route sweetheart? Because I could easily say the same thing for you.”

That night—the night that you escaped, so he did see you. All this time you convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks in the dark. You shake your head, wanting to dislodge the moment from your mind.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you hiss. “Why are you avoiding me? I just want to talk.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone. You shouldn’t want to talk to me— someone like you… It ain’t normal. I should’ve died that night. I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ save me.”

You’re taken aback by the silent rage but refuse to show him the effect he has. The only indication that his words had any kind of result is when you take a step back, allowing him some semblance of space.

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you say softly, slowly. His gaze bores into you. “But I did. And you’re here. I didn’t save you that night to just make a point of who’s the better person. As you said, you allowed me to go that night—thank you by the way—but what are you going to do, just not talk to me? Ignore me? I don’t think that’s fair for either of us.”

You stand frozen as Tommy takes a step closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"What do you want from me?" he growls, his voice low and threatening.

You try to take a step back but he follows, closing the gap between you. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the frigid air around you. His lips curl into a slight sneer, and you can't help but feel a slight twinge of fear.

"You're always so nice, aren't you?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what do you really want? You want me to be your little pet? Fixing me up like some broken toy. Well, newsflash, sweetheart, I'm not broken. I'm just fine the way I am."

"That’s not—" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That wasn’t my intention at all. The world is shit, I just didn’t want to add to it."

Tommy scoffs, his eyes glinting with anger. "But you did by keeping me alive. I did horrible things, things you can’t even imagine. So don't pretend like you understand me, because you don't."

“I know the shit you did Tommy. I was almost one of your victims, remember?”

His eyes drop to the ground, the fire in his eyes finally fading. He takes a quick step back, shoulder slumped, he shakes his head.

“I remember. There ain’t a day I don’t remember the shit I’ve done—we’ve done with my brother.”

Tommy gives you one last look before walking away, “I don’t need your pity.”

Half an hour later, you’re still standing there under the snow, completely alone.

vi.

It’s a dance almost. You find different ways for Tommy to communicate with you. You unlock his anger, his disappointment, his need to be good—the hero, if you will. But to be fair, you can’t take all the credit. It was mostly due to him, you got too close, and he got too frustrated. It was a brief moment of lips touching, then it quickly turned into a desperate ask for submission. You were eager to give, he hated that. Hated that you could when he couldn’t.

You know that there’s a high chance of other things lingering below the surface, things that he probably hadn’t dared to address himself.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you’re on your knees for him. Sucking on the tip of his cock eagerly as he stands upright, his hands are firsts that are stuck to his sides. This isn’t the first time, it isn’t the last. By the way salty precum coats your tongue, you know he’s enjoying himself. He has to be, if he wasn’t this wouldn’t be happening.

You figure that he enjoys fighting against it until he breaks. When he surrenders himself to it, to the pleasure, to the primal need to take, he pins you down and fucks you with everything he has. All his frustration seeps into you, each stroke deeper than the next. You enjoy that he’s rough, you enjoy feeling the lingering sting on your skin long after he leaves.

Looking up, you swallow him further down. He’s not overly thick but long, the dark curls at the base trimmed but still looking untouched. Tommy thrusts forward, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Your nostrils flare as your lungs convulse with the need to cough, he notices but doesn’t pull back. Instead, you feel two hands cradling the back of your neck, pulling you further down his length, making you take him whole.

Your eyes go wide and squeeze shut right after. You feel him throbbing in your throat and you swallow, again and again, which prompts him to drag his cock out slightly only to bury himself back into your throat. Your jaw aches, spit dripping down the corners of your lips as you flatten your tongue over the underside of his cock. A faint growl echoes from the back of his throat, you swallow again, he fucks your mouth as he would your wet cunt. Tears flood your lashline, you can barely breathe. Your throat tightens around him.

“Fuck, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, the dark curls at the base tickling your nose. “Look at me. Look at me like you always do.”

The Look, is something that you still don’t quite understand. He says it often, telling you to look at him the way that you do, but you emphasize nothing special when you do end up looking at him. It’s just your normal gaze. He only asks for it when he’s inside you.

You slowly open your eyes, your lashes wet and stuck together. His thumb smooths over the patch of skin right under your eye, his chest stutters, muscles growing taut under your gaze.

Ironically, he closes his eyes and lifts his head as if staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t utter another word after that, your lips raw from the way he thrust forward. You feel the twitch of his cock, thick ropes sliding down your throat. You never tire of the taste of him. Not sweet, not bitter. You enjoy the brief moment he forgets where he is, that soft noise escaping his lips, the juvenile way his thighs shake—those are the things that make you ache for the taste of him. You’re an addict.

But so is he.

vii.

Your palms press into the smooth surface of the bar counter. Tommy lurks behind you, cock pressing inside, fingers making dents into your warm skin. It’s late into the night, you’re not sure of the exact time but you know it’s late. His one hand slips between your legs, he feels how wet you are, how needy you get for him. He presses a finger to your clit, the pads of the digits moving in deft circles.

A sharp moan parts your lips, back arching as he pounds into you, the sound of skin against skin loud, yet not enough to pierce the sound of the snowstorm outside. A dose of pleasure buzzes through your veins, electricity crackling across your skin as you feel his length press deep inside. His fingers grasp your throat, pulling you up until his lips tickle your ear. He heaves, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“Tell me I’m a good person,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re good,” you answer slightly out of breath. You touch his neck, the position slightly straining but worth it when he holds you tighter. “Such a good man—and I mean that.”

Your eyes widen with shock when he slides his tongue into your mouth. Tommy doesn’t kiss you often, if at all, but it lights a fire under your stomach. It burns you from the inside out, the smoke of it making your mind spin. Your eyes flutter close and you take a deep breath, he grinds his hips, your insides pulsing around him.

“I don’t care even if you’re lyin’—”

He releases you and you stumble forward, hands finding purchase on the bar counter once more. But you can’t hold your position for long, not with the way he’s hammering into you, reducing you into a babbling mess. Your hands slide, your upper body completely falling over. Tommy doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even slow down. He presses you further into the surface.

“Because I know that you are.”

Tommy suddenly pulls out, a sharp gasp rips from your throat, your cunt clenching around nothing. Before you can protest, however, he turns you over and pushes you. He kneels between your legs, lips finding the tender folds of your pussy.

Your head falls back when he licks into you eagerly, tasting himself and your arousal. His groans vibrate against you, your thighs threaten to close, the meat of them pressing into both sides of his face.

His lips press against your clit, suckling and teasing it in a way that drives you wild. His tongue moves in circles as he pushes two fingers, curling them and applying pressure. Without a second thought, you fingers thread his hair, tugging him closer. Arousal pools between your legs.

Your breathing becomes labored and your body starts to shake. Your eyes roll back as your entire body shakes. Your hips buck against him as he continues to bring you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bar.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you collapse against the bar counter, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You can feel your skin tingling, your heart pounding and your head spinning. Tommy stands, a hint of pride lingering in his dark eyes. You continue to breathe and watch as he fists himself, the tip of his cock a shade darker when he comes thick ropes over your stomach. You hiss at the heat, the feeling of having a part of him staining you.

Tommy pulls up his pants, and you notice as you get dressed, he’s avoiding your gaze. You’re too satisfied to care. He licks his lips, which you found was a nervous habit he has and offers you his arm. You hadn’t expected it, but indulge in the gesture by taking it.

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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chocolatecakeandbl · 1 year

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Prapai’s Past - Character Study with Headcanons

Out of the blue, we had a very interesting convo yesterday at the server. It started with ‘Prapai’s happiness’ and turned into ‘What might have happened in Prapai’s past?’

A lot of headcanons came up, halfway turned into a deep character study we want to share with everyone.

Buckle yourself in, get a drink. This will take some time :3

A short Prapai Character Study

We often joke about Prapai being empty-headed about anything that is not Sky and Sky's body, but we never think of him as just a dopey guy. He has to be brilliant at his job. His father wouldn't have made him CEO if he were an idiot. He has brilliant emotional intelligence. He just plays the smiley fuckboi, because that's what people expect him to be.

Prapai the CEO.

The amount of burden he has to carry on his shoulders must be beyond imagination.

The pressure? The expectations?

Prapai’s family seems to be supportive, but they still loaded expectations upon expectations on him.

Prapai the family anchor.

The boy raised his siblings, said so himself. How fast has he had to grow up? How old was he when he lost his childhood?

Where was Pai's mother in this? Why did the responsibility for his siblings fall on Pai? Why not someone else? They are rich. They could have had help. Nannys? Other family members? Literally anyone but Pai? So why Pai?

A possible headcanon:

Pai's mom was there when Phan and Plerng were still small, but when they got older, it fell on Pai. Largely because Pai was always present and wanted to take care of them, loved them more than himself - that's how this boy is, really. In the end, Pai was too protective to let someone else care for them?

In a way, if looked for deep enough, it becomes tragic. Why? Because he had the money for a place to live, all the food and stuff he might have wanted. But he was too young to carry the responsibility of a family, and it led him to make hard choices.

Prapai, the man behind the mask.

Prapai is incredibly intense in whatever he does.

He was given a lot of responsibility since a young age, not only from his parents because his dad most likely already had the intention for him to become CEO the moment he was born, but also because he cared for his siblings the way he did. It might have ended up coming naturally to him, not only because he IS loving like that, but because he's been slowly put into a position of "taking care of things", whatever those may be. Started off as helping out his brother with a bruise, ended up in making deals and ensuring the status of the company.

On the other side, we see what happens IF Pai stops wearing that mask of smiles, and his charming sunny boy self. It's been a thing when Sky cut him off. But what really got us was the way he looked when he got up to repay Gun’s efforts.

There wasn’t a trace of a smile. Prapai’s eyes were intense, focused. His stance was tall, grand, room filling. Someone hurt the man who is his heart? His life?

This is the moment the mask falls completely. What we find is an intense Prapai. A protective Prapai. A Prapai who doesn’t fear to keep those safe he wants to have safe no matter what it costs.

This Pai is the real Pai.

Why the smiles?

If you have no idea why he keeps smiling and being the sunny boy, it's easy to say that he just is like that because he never had to worry about anything. He's from a rich family. He had his future set out. He's pretty.

But what does it need to be a young CEO?

That is what many underestimate. How there's ALWAYS people telling you how you are too young for the job, that there's no way the company survives under your hands. That you only got the position bc of X instead of your own hard work. If you leash out, it's all over. Everyone goes "Told you. He's not made for the position." So what is left? Smile. Be charming. Maybe add a bit of puppy eyes and acting innocent because it always helps. We all see it at Pai. We hc he not only got hurt relationship wise, but also has to take slights on an everyday base. He has a way to cope with it, but it's a thing many people choose to not see.

Inevitable questions we never got answers to:

Why was Prapai ‘raised’ by his uncle?

Why did he end up having to raise his siblings?

Where had his parents been?

Why had he had to take over the company at such a young age?

Prapai as a teenager

Prapai wearing his heart on his sleeve is so true and we can only imagine a much younger Prapai, being his lovely golden retriever self trying to give someone his heart, only for it to be stomped on. How long he might’ve been a ‘kicked puppy’, who decided that all smiles, swaggering fuckboi was the mask he needed to wear from then on?

What if this is what happened? Teenage Prapai who lost his heart to someone only to have it crashed...

What made him into the 'fuckboi' we got to know? Did he sit down, over his broken heart, seeing the sadness in his eyes in the mirror, and go "No one will ever get to know about it?" only to adapt a "Single life is best." attitude we saw he had (and conveyed to his siblings)?

What if he tried again, got shot down again, then realized people only wanted him for one thing.

OR.... Maybe he overheard someone talking about him. Young Pai, pondering on whatever he's pondering on, maybe he's in school or college, he overhears a conversation about him, and as he's about to walk in and say hi, he hears himself described in ways that break his heart.

It's hard to believe he just chose “Single life is the best!” out of the blue and that he always wanted the "single heartthrob" vibe for himself. Prapai is TOO lovely to simply be a player.

He didn’t go through a trauma like Sky went through, but he might have gone through a period of time with someone whom he cared for a lot but who didn't treat him the way he deserved. "Why should I even give my heart to anyone if people just use it however they'd like?"

Considering he was raised to care for everything, he wouldn't just go around "fucking and finding out".

What if we go deeper into this headcanon?

What if he tried relationships?

He freaking tried but got so badly hurt he decided he’s either not worth it or everyone is the same so there’s no point in trying. In high school, or while in UK. Being cheated on, being used for money, being a game in someone’s bet (I dare you to get into Pai’s pants and make him head over heels for you kind of bet). A different hurt from Sky’s, but still one creating a huge scar in his heart.

So many people just go for looks.

And Pai fits in that part. Not only does he come from a monetary background, and social status, but he has the looks as well.

He is a charming boy, it's hard to not want him.

Maybe he's how he is because he got hurt. He got used. And to avoid it happening again, he opened a playground where he could live out the frustration his life inevitably brings, while at the same time getting that tad bit of intimacy (aka bedroom activities) keeping him sated enough to go through daily life.

We think Pai is someone, who IF he had a relationship before, got cut off because he is very caring. And so many out there just aren't able to cope with it. Too many feelings. Too much care. Too much focus.

It’s easily overwhelming for too many.

Prapai’s Happiness

We often talk about how Pai made Sky happy, made him feel safe, but we talk way too little about how Sky taught Pai to be happy and showed him that happiness in a relationship is a thing too. Before Sky, Prapai had no idea how real relationships work. He didn’t know the joy that came from it, nor that slightly different feeling of support and feeling home.

Now, Sky showed him what real, genuine romantic love is, what does it mean to hold someone in your arms feeling content simply because that person is next to you and you can hug them.

That your love’s happiness is often your happiness.

Sky showed him that fuzzy warm feeling. He rid him of loneliness and gave Pai stability. The way that boy smiles in EP11 after the NC, when he holds Sky in his arms, and in EP13 when he peppers him with all the kisses?

It’s a totally different smile from all the smiles he showed us before. His eyes sparkle with unconfined joy.

We think Pai never experienced something like this before.

It’s proven by how often Prapai says something along the lines of "I've never done this before, you know?" And how it's a sign of the journey of discovery he's in.

He's finding out all of these new things in his first ever relationship.

He wants to share them with Sky. And since he's an eager puppy, he’s all happily going "Look! I did this for the first time!"

In turn for Sky, who has been in a relationship before, but was not cared for during it, all of Prapai's discoveries are discoveries for himself too. He's finding out what real love is like.

Prapai: You know, I've never cleaned up someone before.

Sky: You know, no one has ever done this for me before.

They discover and learn together.

Sky teaches Prapai how a true relationship should look like - the boy isn’t even aware he does, he’s just being himself, but with his feelings for Prapai it’s inevitable. The love he offers Prapai is the guide.

Prapai teaches Sky how to be happy again, how to love again, how to not be afraid again.

But who said Prapai isn’t scared himself? The man has all the love to give, he’s a natural caretaker. He’s been born to give.

But with it comes the inevitable danger of being used. Sky doesn’t use Pai. And maybe, this is the whole point.

Prapai and Sky

It says a lot that Prapai waited for 3 months before actively going to PhayuRain's place one day to get a hold of Sky’s number. We see he tried before, but got interrupted. But if we go deeper, if Pai would have REALLY wanted Sky's number, he could have gotten it before. He waited 3 months to get it. And we think that's the cue. He'd been debating with himself for weeks, because he couldn't get Sky out of his mind. He couldn't sleep with others anymore because it just didn't bring any joy anymore. It felt wrong. It's safe to say the three times he slept with someone might have happened within a week after he met Sky (because let’s be honest, Pai is on the active side when it's about sex. He doesn't need to wait) It took him approx, a week to realise he wants Sky, and no one else when it's about sexual pleasure. It took him 3 months (!!) to really make up his mind and for SURE get Sky's number. We think this is what says it all.

If he hadn't been burned before, he wouldn't have waited that long. He could have gotten Sky's number before through Phayu or Rain. He could have tried to get another night with Sky. Just sex. GREAT sex, but after all, only sex. But no. He decided to ponder over Sky, kept replaying their time. A clear sign he's debating with himself. Should he? Should he not? Pai is a smart boy. Yet, he went to Saifah, “Hey, what's the meaning if I can't stop thinking about him?" A question he could easily answer himself. He got the validation he searched for through Saifah, and promptly went ahead with a plan he surely had in mind for a while.

All the scenes we didn't see, but would have been highly interesting, would have clued us in.

Aka the drive from the university to Sky's apartment, when Pai "picked up" Sky the first time.What did they do during the drive? Did they talk? Did Pai steal glances?

Another key scene for us is when Sky falls into the memory right in front of Pai before they got breakfast.

Cards on the table..

Who would be able to make sense of the retreat from Sky, who hadn't been hurt before?

Pai sees the hurt. And for someone to be able to see the hurt, the one must have experienced hurt before.

He reacts perfectly that moment. He draws Sky out of the building to get food (bc we all know food can help immensely in such a situation bc it changes the body reaction) I don't think anyone would do it/see it, who doesn't have any experience with it.

Again, in summary, and I can’t stress enough about it: Who’d do that if they didn’t know what being hurt feels like?

What does it NEED for someone to see it in someone else? And how much MORE does it need for someone to go "How can I help you?" after recognizing the hurt in the other?

Prapai was genuinely concerned. He dropped all his smiles and playboy-ish ways immediately. All masks fell.

Another instance is the boardroom scene.

Excuse me if we go a bit off course for a moment, but there is literally no other way to word it:

The boardroom behind the scenes was very telling.

How Fort and Peat remain in their position on top of the table, not just because they're doing a scene, but we think deep down Fort is caging Peat with his body, he can easily just wrap himself on top of him to protect him if needed. And we think it's something he shows in Prapai too.

When did Pai fall for Sky?

Hard to say. We can’t possibly know. But what we know is:

When Sky kept pushing Prapai away and not falling for his charms/money/sex, Prapai might have hoped that maybe this time risking his heart to love again would not be a bad idea. And maybe this time this "cold" person might be exactly who he's been looking for all this time.

Prapai saw in Sky his own façade. To be a playboy, you also need to play a role. Sky was the ice prince, Prapai was all smiles and charm, but in some of his interactions he's also straight up sassy and cold. We think he definitely did his fair share of "this means nothing, it's sex, just take what you want and leave me be" like Sky did to him.

It is an instant connection?

This study is a collab of @fortpeat (who also did ALL the work with the screencaps *smooches*) and @moriano and @akitbeast and @bird-inacage and @mb-praiskyfortpeat and ofc me :3

#prapaisky #love in the air #paisky #lita #prapai x sky #skyprapai #love in the air series #love in the air the series #fortpeat #lita meta

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cheynovak · 4 months

Text

My brother's best friend

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: smut 16+, jealousy,...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 3538

Y/N and Sam known each other from college, Y/N introduced him to Jess. Sam considered her to be one of his best friends. While the brothers are on a hunt she ran into them, they decide to ask her for help. Dean at first doesn’t trusts her but the more he sees Sam hanging out with her the more he starts to appreciate her. Until he realises, he might actually have feelings for the normal girl who seems to be only interested or liking his younger brother.

*note: Picture this in the early seasons with a time jump. The story may not always follow the supernatural timeline*

*Not my GIF*

-----------------------

Sam and Dean were sitting at the diner, while Dean was stuffing his face with what he claimed to be the best burger ever, Sam was trying to find out where these symbols came from. “I’m telling you Dean we need to go talk to an expert about these hieroglyphics.” Dean looked annoyed “And I think those have nothing to do with this case Sam. Just a werewolf haunting that farm.”

“Sam? Sam Winchester is that you?” The brothers looked up towards the sound of her voice. “Oh, hi Y/N.” He stood up and gave her a hug. “Dude, do you ever stop growing!” She joked while accepting the tallest Winchester’s hug. Sam laughed “Sit down with us. How are you, w-what are you doing here?”

“Well, I eh...” Y/N noticed the confused face Dean was making at her and Sam. “Oh, Dean this is Y/N a friend from college, Y/N this is Dean my older brother.” - “Hi nice to meet you.” Y/N said. “Yeah, hi.” Dean answered still a little confused. Y/N turned back to Sam. “So, I eh am looking for a new job. Todd and I left California after I graduated, you remember him, right?” Sam nodded “I became a history and art-history teacher at the local high school in Reno. But eh, Todd and I split up a couple of months ago, and I have been on a self-empowering road trip ever since. But I’m running out of money so, hence the job search.”

“Y/N, here major History back at Stanford.” Sam said exited to Dean, “And did an extra course in art history.” Y/N told Sam. While Dean made a oh really, I don’t care look. “So, eh what about you?” She turned back to Sam. “Kind of the same, road trip since...” He answered quiet looking down. Y/N grabbed his hand. “I miss her too.” She said sincerely. Dean broke the silents “Well, I’m going to...” He pointed to the restrooms. “Your brother doesn't seem to like me.” Y/N said while following Dean with her eyes. “He’s just not good with meeting new people.” They talked a little more, Dean walked back from the toilets seeing his brother laugh at something Y/N just said. When he got to the table Y/N stood up. “Well, it was really nice to see you again Sam.” Y/N wrote something on a napkin. “If you are planning on staying in town a little longer... and you want to, I don’t know, talk or hang out, text me, here is my new number.” She hugged Sam goodbye and threw a cute little smile at Dean.

“Do you ever stop growing” Dean said in a high-pitched voice mocking Y/N while walking to the car. “Really Dean? Y/N is a nice person, she was the first friend I had at Stanford, she introduced me to Jess.” “Well, if she is so great maybe she can help you with your little riddle.” he pointed to his laptop bag. Sam rolled his eyes “For once a girl doesn’t flirt with you but talks to me instead and you get all fuzzed.” - “I’m not fuzzed Sammy, I’m cautious, I don’t know her, I don’t trust her.”

Later that night.

Dean heard a knock on the motel room door. He answered it with a gun against back of the door, while Sam was sitting on his bed trying to find out more about the symbols.

“Y/N? What are you doing here.” “Eh, Sam texted me? He needed help with something he said.” Y/N looked Dean up and down, “may I come in or do I need to help him out here?” Dean looked at Sam taking a step back. “Didn’t think you would text me this quick. Missed me already?” She joked taking of her jacket. “No, eh I wanted you to take a look at these symbols.” He turned his laptop to Y/N. “Hieroglyphics, you asked me to come here to look at hieroglyphics?” She looked confused at the youngest brother.

They both heard Dean chuckle. Smooth move Sammy, he thought, text the girl an address of a motel she would immediately think she was needed for her brains. Y/N took a seat next to Sam on his bed. “What do you need to know?” She crossed her legs. “Well, can you translate these or find out what they mean?” - “If I have the right tools yeah sure, but not out of the top of my head. Why do you guys need to know this?” She looked back and forward between the brothers. Dean sighs he got up “Just tell me what you need, I’ll get it.” Y/N made a list with books she needed. With Dean gone she turned to Sam again looking for an explanation. After a little push from her Sam told Y/N about the family business and the latest case.

Within the hour Dean got back presenting the books she needed. “How did you get these?” - “The library.” - “At this hour?” - “Don’t ask.” He smiled his perfect grin at her. Dean took a seat in the chair at the table watching his brother and Y/N working like a perfect team. But after a while Sam dozed off leaven just Y/N to research. By morning both of the brothers were asleep. “GOT IT” Y/N yelled, waking Dean and Sam up very abrupt. “Hear this, it’s some old Egyptian curse or spell to trap the god Anubis. He was usually represented as a jackal or as a man with the head of a jackal. Their association with death and funerals comes from jackals scavenging around cemeteries. Now the strange part is that Anubis normally cares about the desisted, he was like the patron god for embalmers. He wasn’t a murderer.”

“Jackal, that would explain the bite marks and removing the heart.” Dean said to Sam. ‘How do we break the spell.” Sam asked Y/N “I don’t know, I never knew gods excited, let alone you could trap them!” Y/N said panicking slightly. “But, eh fun fact, the heart is key in Egyptian culture, it needs to be pure. When someone dies Anubis weighs it and if it’s light enough, they could go to Yaru, pretty much their heaven. If it’s heavier they feed you to Ammit.” She looked at the boys then continued. “The eh spells normally is carved on the skin of the person who tries to control Anubis, to tie him down on their own flesh, but that only works until they die. But these are carved on property.” Dean packed his bag, we need to get to that farm before any more people get hurt. “You.” He pointed at Y/N, “find out how to stop this.”

A little later Sam’s phone rang. The boys were still in the car. ”Y/N, you’re on speaker.”

“There is no way to kill this god, but there is a way to stop him. You need to find who carved those symbols. He or she needs to use their own blood to undo the curse. They need to wipe their blood over the symbol and pray to Anubis to weight their heart as a sacrifice for the dead he caused, I’ll send you the translated text. Then you need to burn that spell before someone else uses it or copies it.

After a long time, the brothers came back to the motel room. Y/N got up, “D-did it work?” She asked unsure of her translation skills. Dean nodded. “Good work Y/N.” Sam said. They all sat down for a second. Only now the reality started to kick in. “So, all the fairytales and horror stories are, real.” Y/N said defeated looking at her feet. “Well, before I go, is there a 101 starters kit I need to travel with from now on?” She asked lifting her up from the bed. Dean laughed for the first time sincere and handed you the salt. “What is this?” Y/N looked confused at him. “I’ll explain it on the way to your car.” Sam smiled. “Maybe... Y/N needs to sleep first before hitting the road.” Dean interrupted. “She had been working day and night.”

That was the start of them working together. It started out as an occasionally call to Y/N for information or a translation. Even Dean started to call her for help, or that is what he says to himself. The boys recent found the bunker. “Well, I know who would be thrilled with this archive.” Dean said looking over to his brother. “You mean Y/N? Why don’t you invite her? I’m sure you would like to see her again.” Sam said, knowing very well his brother liked her a little more than he would admit. “Pff, she is your friend, you call her.” He said trying to brush it off. “Are you sure?” Sam asked grinning, holding his phone out to Dean. “Ok, fine.” He huffed taking the phone.

“SAMMY! It’s been too long, how are you friendly giant!” Y/N answered her phone way more enthusiastic than when she answerers Dean’s calls. “Eh, no it me.” Dean answered feeling jealous. “Oh, hi Dean, is everything ok?” Y/N asked worried. “Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” - “You’re calling with Sam phone?” - “Oh yeah, no I eh, we were just talking and... would you like to come over? If you have nothing better to do off course.” - ”Sure, text me the address.” They hang up the phone. And before Dean could turn around his brother laughed “Smooth, very smooth Dean.” - “You shut up!” The older brother answered angry and embarrassed.

Y/N parked her car, the brothers were already waiting for her outside. Dean looked at her, she was smiling from ear to ear when she walked towards Sam pulling him in a tight hug. She really likes him he thought. “How are ya?” she asked him while giving Dean a hug too. “We’re good, found ourselves a new home.” The young brother answered - “Ooh, house tour!” She said while wrapping her arm around Sam like an old couple. Dean rolled his eyes while walking behind them.

You walk into the archive “Wow, this is really something!” She said with her eyes sparkling. “Well, I’m going to leave you two nerds to it. I’ll make dinner.” Dean said quietly leaving the room. “What’s up with him?” She asked Sam. He has been through a lot lately. “Hm, want me to talk to him later?” She asked him, still looking at the empty door, Dean walked out of. “No, he will be alright. Give him some time.” Dean’s mind started to float back to their last hunt. He was stupid enough to go hunt a djinn by himself and got captured. He couldn’t stop thinking about the dream.

Dean woke up in a warm bed, the sun came through the windows of the room. It took him a second to remember where he was when all of the sudden, he felt a hand pulling around his waist. “Good morning handsome.” The female voice said to his ear. His eyes got big as he turned around seeing Y/N in bed next to him. She kissed his lips with a soft touch before crawling into his arms resting her head against his shirt. Dean smiled softly not knowing what happened last night but liking the outcome of it. “Even though I would like nothing more than to stay in your arms, we need to get ready.” Y/N said kissing his chest breaking his trail of thoughts. “Why?” - “Sam invited us remember?” She looked up at him. “You forgot, didn’t you?” He smiled shyly.

He watched her walking to the bathroom in a little babydoll dress admiring her curves. “Stop staring Winchester, get ready.” He heard her yell.

Dean and Y/N pulled up at Sam’s place, Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. His parents and Jess were talking in the living room before they noticed them walking in. “Ah, there he is, aways the last one to arrive.” His dad said. “How are you holding up with him?” He joked pointing at Dean. “Barely.” Y/N answered in the same tone. ”No refunds.” John laughed. “Dinner is served.” Jess announced. before Dean could answer. Even though it was strange seeing you at the same table as his parents he liked it. “Eh, guys, we have an announcement.” Sam lifted his voice. Jess took his hand.” I’m pregnant.” Everyone was over the moon, but Dean couldn’t help but feeling out of this world.

Sam and John were talking, still sitting at the table. While Dean decided to get a refill on his beer. He heard Jess, his mom and Y/N talk during the dishes. “So, what about you guys? Still no ring I see.” his mom asked.” Y/N didn’t answer but he could see her face. “Is Dean ever going to be ready to settle down?” Jess asked Mary. “I don’t know, Y/N and Dean have been together how long know?” She asked Y/N. “Next summer, 3 years.” Y/N answered loading in the plates. “He is quiet today, I don’t know what’s going on.” - “I noticed too; he isn’t half as handsy as he is normally. He didn’t even hold his hand on your thigh or kissed you yet.” Jess said. Dean walked in pretending not to have heard anything they said. Y/N stood next to the fridge, he placed his hand on her lower back and kissed her temple before getting another beer.

Once home Dean took off his clothes and stepped in the shower, he felt a fresh wind of air against his back before he felt Y/N’s hands around his ribs, her face against his shoulder. “What’s wrong Dean?” He heard the worries is her voice. His heart bounced almost out of his chest. He turned around seeing her completely naked for the first time. His lips moved to hers, the kiss became quickly more passioned. Their hands moving to discover each other's body... Dean didn’t want to hold back he wanted to feel every inch of her. He took her hands and moved back, she looked worried. “Shower sex, to complicated.” He said while pulling her in the bedroom. “He is back” she smiled while he dropped her in the bed hovering over her. He lifted her leg, stroking her thigh with his rough fingers before entering her smoothly. "Oh, Dean..."

“Dean?” He almost jumped hearing his name. “Did you just flinch?” Y/N said trying not to laugh. “Anything I can help you with?” He tried to forget he just daydreamed about them being intimate. “I need your help.” She said while leaning back at the kitchen table looking at him. “I’m sure Sam could help you out. Little busy here. Food, dinner you know.” He said smiling over his shoulder, desperately trying to avoid turning to her since his dream had wakened an erection. “Dean, I need you, Sam can’t help me.” She was persistent. He sights. “Fine, I’m following you.”

Y/N walked to the garage. “Really? You need me to take a look at your car?” He said looking at her, she nodded fast. “Sam knows a thing or two about cars.” He said but still opening the hood “Well, I only trust you with my car, since she is a classic.’ Throwing him the keys to her ‘70 mustang. Dean started the car, looked under the hood. ”I don’t hear or see anything wrong.” He said after a while, turning the cars off still sitting in the front seat. Y/N sat next to him on the passenger's seat facing him. “There isn’t anything wrong with the car.” He looked puzzled at her. “I know my girl inside out; I know how to take care of her. But there is something with you.” She pointed her finger at him. “And you... I don’t know so well to fix.” Dean kept looking in her eyes, thinking “Damn that sounded hot.”

“So, tell me.” She pushed. “Nothing wrong.” - “Dean, stop lying to me or yourself. You act like I'm a stranger...” He stepped out of the car closing the hood. “Dean what did I do?” - “You didn’t do anything.”- ‘Then why are you acting so strange lately?” Dean started to walk towards the exit. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” She pulled his arm to make him stop. He turned to her, pushing her against the side of her car holding her shoulders. She locked eyes with him, for the first time seeing every tint of green before he dipped down kissing her deep, holding her head in his hands. When he took a step back, she felt dizzy, holding on to his flannel still looking at his eyes. “Now you know.” he said out of breath. When she didn’t answer immediately, he started to get nervous. “But I –I know... how you... You know your feelings for Sam so. Don’t worry, ok.”

Y/N pulled Dean closer kissing him again. Moving her hands under his flannel shirt to his neck and shoulders. Dean placed a hand on her side and one the top of the car, completely covering Y/N with his body. The kiss got hot and heavy really quick. Both stripping from their clothes, Y/N pushed Dean in the passenger seat while he pulled her in, straddling his lap. She held his head in her hands kissing, his tongue followed hers. His hand steady on her back while she grinded his hips for friction. A moan escaped her lips, when she felt him already hard against her clothed slit. His hand moved down in her panties, humming feeing they were already soaked, dipping two fingers in and out of her, wetting his fingers before softly started to rub his fingers over her clit. Moving a little lower placing his fingers inside her again while his thumb worked on her clit. Making her fall against his shoulder moaning his name.

He kissed her neck and ear. “Protection?” He asked breathless. “Glovebox.” She answered with her lips still in his neck. He moved his hand making Y/N whimper and dipped a little forward to reach for the condom. She moved away a little to take off his boxers and her panties, pumping his dick a few more times while he tried to open the packaging, her touch making it hard for him to focus. Once all wrapped up, she lowered herself on him. Moaning his name as she felt every inch stretching. Dean looked at her like a man enchanted with his plump lips parted as she started to move. The palm of his hand on the end of her thighs his fingers spread over her flesh, holding her steady against him.

“Oh Dean...” she whimpered in his ear. He could feel she was close to an orgasm. “I got you... Let go.” He said when his hand moved down to where they were connected, drawing circles on her clit. Y/N’s head felt back making it easier for Dean to look at her when she rode out her orgasm on is dick. “So fucking beautiful.” He whispered. The feeling of her tightening around him made it impossible for him to go on any longer. He pulled his arms around her while he groans against her neck and shoulder. Both of them out of breath, but neither moved. Dean looked in her eyes again moving a piece of hair out of her face. “Was not expecting that.” He laughed “Next time, talk to me before assuming I like someone else.” Y/N hit his chest with the back of her hand.

They started to get dressed outside of the car. “So eh, is this a one-time thing?” Dean asked a little nervous. Y/N smiled flirty while walking to the door? “Wait, what does that mean.” He yelled. “Talk to me more, you will figure out.” He ran after her holding her against the door. “I've got plenty of time now.” He kissed her. “I don’t think so.” -” Why not?” - “Dean, I smell something burning.” She said in a honey sweet voice. Dean pushed her aside while he ran to the kitchen.

Sam held up the pots and pans that were burned while the both of you ran in the kitchen. “Next time before you two... You know what, I don’t even want to know, but make sure to turn off the stove Dean.”

“So, Pizza it is?” Y/N asked not being able to contain her laugh.

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

#fanfic #fluff #dean winchester #smut #spn #supernatural #sam and dean #sam winchester #spnfandom #the winchester brothers #x yn #y/n

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farfromstrange · 3 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER FIVE: What Belongs Together Will Find Back Together

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Your shitty day gets worse when an agitated patient decides to completely lose his temper.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, violence, mentions of gun violence, knife, mentions of drug abuse, blood, attempt at humor (again), mentions of abuse, flirting

Word Count: 5.5k

A/n: This is the second part of the double update. Enjoy!

Read Chapter 5: What Belongs Together Will Find Back Together here on AO3

You’re having a downright awful day. A witch must have put a curse on you, or maybe God finally decided to turn his grudge into never-ending misfortune.

You came into the hospital late, hungover, and in the back of an ambulance with a man who was beaten to a pulp by a masked vigilante, but you couldn’t tell anyone that, so you left that part out. Shelly wasn’t happy when the police showed up to question you, and she was even more displeased when she found out that you decided to play the hero instead of heading to work straight away.

She lectured you for ten minutes without taking a moment to breathe, and then she convinced you to take a double shift as an apology. You are far beyond your limit, but if you let the exhaustion seep in, people will die.

Eighteen hours down, six more to go. At least, that is what you believed when you set foot into the emergency room for a surgical consult. You didn’t expect to see yourself where you are now—standing between the security guard’s loaded gun and a troubled young man holding a pocket knife. Then again, the past eighteen hours have been hell, and after everything that happened the night before, this feels more like a cruel joke the universe is playing on you than a threat to your life.

You always happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The man threatening you with the knife isn’t even your patient. An ambulance brought him in after a bad trip on amphetamines. He was aggressive. They even had to strap him down. Someone else was in charge of him by the time you came downstairs to take care of your patient, but somehow, the young man managed to free himself of his restraints, knock out the nurses around him, and demand an almost lethal amount of drugs. When he didn’t get what he asked for, he pulled a knife, and security jumped in.

“One bullet requires over a hundred healthcare workers,” you blurt out. The security guard has his eyes focused on the man with the knife, but your words make him turn to you for a second. He frowns.

“Put the gun down,” you repeat. “If you shoot him, you will take almost all of the staff in this ER away from other patients. People already get shot on the streets like it’s a sport. We can resolve this some other way.”

You’re babbling, but the situation is about to escalate. If he hadn’t assaulted two nurses and pulled a knife on everyone else, including innocent sick people, security would have taken him down, you could have sedated him, and no one would have gotten hurt. But it’s already too late for that.

“Doctor Clarke,” the security guard, Hal, says, his voice eerily steady as he points the gun forward still, “Step aside.”

“No,” you insist.

“You’re gonna get hurt.”

“And you’re agitating him by waving a gun in his face. If you keep doing that, we’re all gonna get hurt.”

“Shut up!” the young man yells. You flinch. “Shut up, both of you!”

You turn to face him. “Easy. No one wants to hurt you. Why don’t you put the knife down and we’ll talk about what’s bothering you, hm? I can help you. You just have to be a little patient,” you say.

A calm voice can do wonders when someone is agitated, but this time, your words fall on deaf ears.

“I want ten milligrams of Dilaudid,” he says. “Now!”

“Okay, I heard you the first time, but 10 milligrams is a lot. Are you in pain?”

“Yes! That’s why I need you to give it to me or I swear to God I will use this knife and gut you like a fish.”

The gasps in the room are audible. You sigh. The way he’s shaking, you aren’t sure if he can gut you like a fish even if he tried. He’s in serious withdrawal. “I can give you two,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “I want ten!”

“I can’t give you that. I can give you two milligrams. You know they do the job just as well.”

“No, no, no…” His voice grows higher, and it sounds almost as if he’s sobbing. His fist tightens around the handle of the knife. “No!” he says, louder this time.

From the corner of your eye, you can see some of the security guards ushering the remaining patients, the ones who are mobile, at least, out into the waiting room.

“Five,” he begins to argue.

“Two,” you repeat.

“I said five, you bitch!” He wipes the counter of the nurse’s station clean with his free hand. “You do as I say or I’ll cut you. I swear, I will cut you!”

You don’t let him sway you. You don’t let him agitate or scare you. Instead, you take a deep, calm breath and lift three fingers into the air. “Three,” you say. “Last offer. I can’t give you more than that. For now. I can give you three milligrams of Dilaudid, we’ll check you out, and if you’re still in pain, I can round up to five. How’s that sound?”

He licks his dry lips. His eyes keep darting around the room before falling back on you. He’s contemplating.

“I promise, I’ll do it. You just have to put the knife down.” You take a careful step forward. You almost have him. “I’ll make sure that the pain stays away, but we have to be careful about this, alright? Three milligrams, and I will add up to five if it’s as bad as you make it sound. You just put down the knife and I will take care of everything else.”

His nostrils flare as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “You will give me five?” he asks.

You nod again. “If you happen to need them, yes,” you say.

“Three then five?”

“Yes.” You smile gently. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Let me introduce myself then. My name’s Olivia. I’m a doctor. And I promise you, I always keep my promises.”

The man looks between you and Hal, the security guard. His hand keeps shaking. He doesn’t look angry anymore, simply nervous. “And him?” he asks.

“He will put the gun down,” you say with an obvious glare over your shoulder.

Hal hesitates. He stares at you, then at the man, then back at you before he slowly lowers his gun. He doesn’t holster it, he keeps it at his side, but that seems to be enough for the young man before you. He slowly lowers his knife as well, placing it on linoleum floors. The seconds tick by in slow motion.

When the knife is on the ground and his hand is gone, you nod. One of the nurses grabs him from behind. He yelps. You can tell that he didn’t expect that, and the betrayal on his face is visible. You almost feel bad.

You get handed a syringe and a bottle of clear liquid. You have to be fast. The young man, despite his state of withdrawal, is rather strong and you’re not sure how long he can be restrained before he starts throwing fists.

“Okay, this is gonna hurt,” you state as you fill the syringe with the liquid. It could be Dilaudid, but judging from his eyes, he doesn’t believe you.

“No! Let me go! You promised!” he growls as he struggles against the grip keeping him in check.

“I’m sorry,” your words sound genuine. You mean them.

You truly are sorry. He’s suffering from a disease you are more than familiar with. You know what it does to a human being and those around them. You know the physical and emotional toll this disease can take. It requires so many sacrifices, and those affected have no choice but to give up everything.

You’re about to jab the needle into his upper arm when he manages to dig his heel into the foot of the nurse behind him. He stumbles back in pain, and the young man uses his newfound freedom to haul his arm forward. The syringe falls from your hand and out of his arm. You don’t have time to brace yourself. His anger escalates, and the faith you had dissipates.

A sharp pain tears through the bridge of your nose. The bone lets out a crack that sounds like a scream straight from a megaphone. It’s a pain you have felt many times before, but it still hurts like hell. You let out a groan of agony, losing your balance and falling against the counter of the nurse’s station. Thankfully, your assailant wiped it clean, giving you enough free space to hang onto.

For a moment, you’re disoriented. You can only feel the sharp pain tearing through your skull. The blood from the burst vessels starts pouring out of your nostrils in hot streaks. You can’t breathe. Not through your nose, at least.

When you finally manage to turn your head, you see the young man making a run for the ambulance bay. You push yourself off the counter, breaking free from whoever is trying to grab you and get you to sit down, asking you if you’re okay, and you take a few quick steps after him. You don’t get very far. Not only is your head pounding and your coordination is slightly off, but something gets in the way of the man’s escape plan, and he stumbles. He falls face-first to the ground. He instantly stops moving, and the security guards are all over him in seconds.

You’re holding your broken nose, a look of pain and surprise etched into your features. Your eyes switch from the man to a familiar face. Your eyesight is slightly blurry, but you recognize him right away. You take another step forward.

“Matthew?” you ask, dumbfounded.

The young man didn’t just stumble, he stumbled over a blind man’s cane. If that was on purpose or simply karma, you’re not sure, but the attractive lawyer whose number you tossed into the trash because you were feeling sorry for yourself made sure that no one else could get hurt. For that, you want to kiss him.

You wince. You probably have a concussion. You’re bleeding and confused, although when you look at him and he tilts his head in your direction, you don’t feel confused anymore.

The man next to him raises his eyebrows. “That was so cool, dude,” he says. Then, his eyes fall on you. “But that does not look cool. Hey, why did she just say your name? Do you know her? Matt?”

“Olivia?” Matt isn’t even paying attention to what you assume must be his friend.

You don’t have a lot of time to process the awkwardness of the situation. What felt like hours since you got punched has been nothing but mere seconds. You evaded the caring hands of your colleagues, and you are starting to regret that.

“I–” your vision blurs. One of the nurses rushes to your side when your knees buckle. “Excuse me,” you murmur, “I have to pass out.”

Before she can even tell you to stay awake, the black curtain closes on your vision and you lose all control of your limbs. You’re floating between consciousness and darkness. The strong arms that catch you before you can hit the ground though, you can feel them. And you can hear Matthew’s voice just above your head, telling you, “Hey, stay with me.”

But you’re tired, and your mouth tastes metallic. You hate the taste of metal. You open your mouth to respond, but that is nothing but a subconscious reflex. Before you know it, even the last pieces of your consciousness have slipped away, and you fall into the abyss of complete and utter darkness.

There is no telling for how long you’ve been out by the time you regain consciousness. Everything around you was dark for quite a while, but it still felt like only a minute or two. Your eyelids flutter. The bright neon light above your head hurts your already throbbing head.

You groan, reaching up to touch your nose. The blood has dried. You dare to inch closer to the injured bone, ready to face the pain, but someone touches your arm. It’s a soft touch that sends shivers down your spine. When was the last time someone touched you this gently? When was the last time someone touched you and wasn’t planning to hurt you afterward?

Your first instinct is to pull away. Your eyes slowly adjust to the white walls around you, nurse Miriam with a concerned expression to your left, and the steady beeping of the machine in the background.

“Welcome back,” she says with a relieved smile. “You scared us there for a second.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” another voice says to your left.

You don’t want to believe it. You must be dreaming, or maybe you’re already dead. When you turn your head, you see him. Matthew. The lawyer. The guy you rejected because you tend to feel too sorry for yourself. You can’t help it. You’re scarred. You had a good reason for throwing his number away. What else were you supposed to do?

It takes you a moment to register his presence as something more than a hallucination. You want to ask him why he’s here, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. So, you just stare, and you try to figure out why Matt Murdock is sitting next to you in the middle of the emergency room after you got punched by a drug addict.

He smiles softly, even a little shyly. “Hi,” he says.

You blink a few times. He’s still there. “H-hi,” you stammer.

This is real. He’s really next to you. And he looks concerned. The past few minutes slowly come back to you. He tripped the young man who attacked you with his cane, and when you recognized him and walked toward him in a haze before passing out, he caught you. He looks strong enough to explain the way you felt when your knees buckled. The question of how he did it doesn’t even dawn on you because blindness is a complex disorder. It can’t be that easily explained.

You’re merely asking yourself why he’s at the hospital and why you’re suddenly so confused, and your body is tingling all over. All because he touched your arm to stop you from touching your nose, which is either dislocated or broken. You’re not lucid enough to determine that yet. You just know that it hurts.

Matt clears his throat. “You fainted.”

“To be fair,” your voice cracks a little, “I gave you a heads-up before I did.”

He laughs. He has a beautiful laugh. The way he adjusts his glasses as a faint blush covers his cheeks from the blood rushing to his head and the way he laughs are both equally as endearing, and you can hear your heart beating a little faster. The beeping of the monitor changes ever so slightly.

His laughter dies down after a few seconds. “You, uh–you okay?” he asks.

You want to look into his eyes, but all you can do is look at your reflection in his red glasses when you say, “Yeah.”

It’s a lie. You’re far from okay. He tilts his head as if he knows that you’re not, and it makes you want to curl in on yourself.

“There’s blood on your shirt,” you point out. His white dress shirt has a small stain toward the left of his chest. You don’t connect the dots at first.

Matt nods. “You kind of…fell on me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I caught you.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip. “Thank you?”

“It’s nothing. This is the first time someone fainted when they saw me, so… I’ll just take it as a compliment.”

The laugh that escapes your lips is involuntary. The vibrations tear through your nose. “Ow,” you wince. Your finger brushes against the bone this time, and the pain shoots through your body like an arrow.

Nurse Miriam gently pulls your hand away. “Careful, sweetheart,” she says. “We still need to get an X-ray, but Max thinks it could be broken.”

You don’t even question the mention of your colleague. Instead, you ask her, “How long was I out?”

“Five minutes, but your vitals are stable. You probably just fainted from the stress, not the punch itself.”

Turning your head back to face Matt, your finger brushes his hand that is resting on the mattress next to you. “You stayed,” you say.

You don’t understand why he would do that. You don’t know each other well enough. Your frozen heart cracks a little. You’re not used to this level of kindness. You’re not used to being cared for or worried about. You do it for other people. You do it for a living. When the tables are turned, however, you don’t know how to accept it. You don’t know how to deal with it, and you don’t know how to judge the way Matt is looking at you—in his own way, he is looking at you, just without his eyes, and you don’t know what his expression means.

You’re confused and possibly concussed, and your nose hurts. This day couldn’t get any worse. But Matt being there sends an almost welcomed shiver down your spine.

Matt tilts his head slightly, softly. “Someone laid their hands on you and then you fainted into my arms,” he says. He makes it sound as if that alone is reason enough to stay with a stranger he gave his number to but who never called him.

You feel bad. The guilt is eating you alive. He stayed because someone laid their hands on you. Involuntarily, your heart flutters.

“You tripped him,” you murmur. “With your cane.”

“Did I?” The smirk on his face tells you that he knows very well what he did.

You chuckle. He can be the epitome of innocence if he wants to be. “You made sure he wouldn’t get away.”

The redness in Matt’s cheeks only grows. “Ah. He just tripped over my cane,” he says. “Could happen to anyone.”

“But it didn’t.”

“Maybe it was God’s will.”

God’s will. You remember the conversation you had with him in the abandoned hallway a few days ago. You talked about religion. You told him why you are an atheist. He’s a devoted catholic, but he didn’t judge you. That’s not something you see often.

You don’t know what else to say, so you close your mouth and take a moment to look at him. He runs his hand over the stubble covering his jaw and neck. His chest strains slightly against his tight dress shirt whenever he takes a breath, and his suit jacket fits just right around his biceps. He fidgets with his fingers when he’s nervous, like now. You wonder what he’s thinking. Should you say something? You probably should, but you still can’t find the words.

“Listen, Matthew,” that is all you get to say before the curtain jiggles and a man passes through.

You remember his face. You saw it briefly before you passed out. He was standing next to Matt. Blonde, tall, nice smile—he’s the complete opposite of his friend. He’s colorful and giddy; he’s daylight, whereas Matt represents the night. They complement each other perfectly.

He’s clutching two packs of Capri-Sun from the vending machine in his hands. “Dude, you won’t believe what just happened to me,” he says. “I pressed the button for one Capri-Sun and the machine gave me two. Two, Matt! I told you, I’m on a lucky–”

He stops when he sees you wide awake, staring at him. Matt is pinching the bridge of his nose. “Foggy,” he warns.

“Oh!” Foggy breaks out of his trance. “Hey, you’re awake.” He offers his hand to you. “Foggy Nelson. So nice to meet you. I’m Matt’s friend, business partner, and fellow eligible bachelor.”

“Foggy!”

You raise your eyebrows. Part of you wants to laugh, but you swallow it. You take his hand with shaky fingers. “Olivia,” you introduce yourself.

Foggy smiles and it lights up the room. “Did Matt tell you we’re lawyers?”

The fact that he is still trying to flirt with you even with your face covered in blood baffles you. Words go lost on you.

You open your mouth to answer, but the curtain moves again. This time, someone pulls it back all the way. You’re met with a crowd of familiar faces. Everyone asks you how you are doing. You all tell them the same thing. “I’m fine,” you say. It’s nice to know that they care.

“You’re alive,” your colleague, Max, steps forward in his white coat.

You scoff. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“Hey, if you die, I’ll get your job. I’m just waiting for nature to take its course.”

“You think you’re as good as me?”

He smirks. “Hardly.”

You can’t help but chuckle. After a moment of silence, you dare to ask, “So, what’s the verdict?”

Max puts the chart down. “Let me take a look,” he says.

You love being a doctor, but you hate hospitals, and you hate being in a helpless position that you can’t control.

For the longest time, you dreaded setting foot into the hospital that was supposed to kickstart your career. For years, you studied for a job that was injecting your veins with the purest essence of fear. It was poisoning you.

You spent so much time and money to become a doctor, but for most of your residency, you hated it. You loathed it. And you loathed everything that was somehow connected to it. Now, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.

You don’t have to be, but you are. That is the problem. You’re afraid every day, and while it doesn’t make you hate your job the same way you did when you were still a student, it makes your blood boil whenever you think about the fact that the person you thought loved you took away the only good thing in your life, and that was the ability to feel good doing what you do. You will never get the excitement you harbored in medical school back. You lost it all.

You’re tense when Max’s slender fingers check your nose for possible fractures. All you want to do is get up and finish your shift. You don’t want to be the one lying in a hospital bed in the emergency room.

“Okay, that looks like a dislocation rather than a fracture, but we still need to get an X-ray,” he states.

You hear him out. You let him finish his sentence. Being rude to someone you get along with is the last thing you want to do. When he’s done though, about to turn around and tell a nurse to book you in for an X-ray, you cup your nose with your hands.

“No need,” you say.

The bone emits a loud crack. You groan. The pain travels to your toes where it paralyzes you for a brief moment. The eyes of the people around you are filled with horror. Foggy exclaims, “Woah, dude!” And the nurses all let out a collective gasp. Max pales. Matt is the only one who raises his eyebrows and shows the slightest sign of a smirk. You’re not sure if he knows what you just did.

The pain is only temporary. Your nose still pulsates under the discolored skin, but it’s back where it should be, and you can finally take a breath again. The small amount of blood that trickles out of your nose is quickly caught with a cotton swab.

Your glassy eyes meet those of the people around you. “What?” you ask.

“Did you just… reduce the dislocation on your own without an anesthetic?” Max retorts.

“Yeah. I was just waiting for you to tell me it’s not broken.”

“Olivia.”

“What?”

“You can’t be your own doctor.”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know. The law?”

“Actually,” Matt cuts in, and you have never been more grateful for the sound of a stranger’s voice, “To know how to heal yourself is a basic human right. Legally, you’re not allowed to prescribe medication to yourself, but no one can forbid you to reduce a dislocation on your own if you know how to do it.”

Max frowns. “What? Who are you?”

“My lawyer,” you blurt.

“You–okay, you know what? We’re done here.” He picks the chart back up. “Shelly will want to talk to you, but after that, you can go home. Doctor’s orders. You need to rest.”

You sit up. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Whatever.”

If you leave before Shelly can catch you, maybe you can escape a possible second lecture. This was in no way your fault, but the woman has been on edge for months. Budget cuts, staff quitting, and a significant hole in the money pool makes her job so much harder than it should be, and you’re only adding to her headache with your reckless behavior.

Being reckless is so unlike you. You used to be careful. You used to be scared of the consequences of your actions. To a certain extent, you still are. You still believe everything is your fault and you think twice about doing the easiest things, especially for yourself, because you don’t believe you deserve them. But ever since you started running from your old life, you have grown more prone to taking risks. You’ve become reckless. For someone as rational as you, that is odd behavior. Even you can admit that.

You can feel Matt’s attention on you. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks.

You blink and look up at him. “I think so,” you answer. “Do you know what they did to the guy?”

Matt opens his mouth, but Foggy cuts him off. “They sedated him, put him in a secure room, and called for the police and a psych consult,” he says.

“Okay. That’s… not perfect, but it’s good. Thank you.”

You’re still a bit weak on your feet when you get up. Matt catches your elbow. His senses must be excellent. He picks up on the smallest of movements without an issue. At first, that wasn’t obvious, but he’s no longer trying to hide it.

His scent hits you. He smells like the earth, rain, and sandalwood. He reminds you of fall. You like fall. When it’s not too cold and not too hot outside and all the leaves start changing colors. He reminds you of that, and perhaps even a cozy hug under a warm blanket.

You stare at him, and you feel like he’s staring back at you in some way. He tilts his head. His attention is entirely on you. He’s listening, smelling, and feeling. A silent connection passes between you, wrapping around you like an invisible string and tying you together. It’s weird. You’ve never felt anything like this before. Maybe he’s confusing you because he’s so attractive and you haven’t felt someone’s genuine touch in a while. Or maybe it’s because he cares that your mind can’t process it and is instead confronting you with all of these unwanted feelings for a man you don’t even know. You're sexually confused, frustrated, and it is emotionally draining to feel so many things at once and not be able to understand them.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “I got your number, but I didn’t call,” you whisper.

Matt smiles, but his smile looks pained. He’s not the kind of man to pressure you into anything. He wouldn’t be mad if you rejected him, but you can tell that you hurt him. That was never your intention.

You threw away his number to protect you and your fragile heart. You tried telling yourself that you did it for him, but you were being selfish. You were feeling sorry for yourself, and you refused to allow yourself even a moment of reprieve from the constant weight of your past that is weighing you down. You are and will always be a masochist.

“I get it,” he says. His voice sounds even more like gravel when he speaks at such a low volume. “You don’t know me and I don’t know you. I can’t blame you for being careful.”

His hand slips from your elbow. “I, uh, should go. We have a cab waiting.” He grips his cane with both of his hands. Those beautiful hands. “Take care, Olivia.”

No.

“Wait!” Your eyebrows are already furrowed when you call out to him. You know that this is probably a huge mistake, but you’re not in charge of your own actions; your heart is.

You hate your tricky heart, considering it’s broken and frozen and won’t survive another heartbreak. Yet it changed its course last minute, and now you’re heading straight into the unknown, which scares the life out of you.

Matt stops. Foggy stops. They both stop. You take a step forward, approaching Matt again.

“Can I call you?” you ask.

He’s taken aback by the question. Your forehead wrinkles as he raises his eyebrows, and his jaw drops. He blushes. He reminds you of a fish on dry land, gasping for air. It’s kind of cute, you have to admit.

“It’s just that I misplaced your card and I would really like to call you later.”

He stammers. “What?”

“Yes. I realize now that I’ve made a mistake. I’d like to make up for it if you’ll let me.”

His blush only deepens. “You don’t have to make up for anything.”

“Even if so, will you still let me?” you ask.

The air is charged with awkward tension that could explode at any moment.

Matt reaches into the inside of his suit jacket to retrieve another one of his business cards. You recognize the delicate Braille instantly.

“If you happen to replace it again, I’m sure we will find each other some other way,” he says.

The blood rushes to your head. It’s your turn to blush. “I—” You take the card from him, and your fingers brush. An electrical current runs through your body.

“Call me,” his voice is barely above a whisper.

You nod, equally as breathless. “If you don’t hear from me,” you say, “you know where to find me.”

“At Metro General, getting your nose broken?”

“Only on Wednesdays. The rest of the week I’m at Metro General without suffering a concussion.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Seriously, I am so glad you can’t see me right now,” your mouth is faster than your brain. “Sorry, that was probably offensive. I didn’t mean—”

Matt chuckles, but he shakes his head. “It’s alright. I don’t need sight to know that you’re beautiful,” he says.

You had been successfully keeping your head above water until now. One sentence and he’s got you hooked like a fish. Your jaw drops.

“Have a good night.” He squeezes your arm one last time. Then, he turns around, and with a small, “See ya,” he leaves.

You still haven’t regained your voice.

Only when you hear giggling beside you do you turn to face the nurses.

“Don’t even,” you say.

“Just one question,” one of the nurses pipes up.

You glare at her. You know this won’t be good.

“How can I get what you’re having?”

The group erupts into laughter, and you have no choice but to yield.

“I’m gonna find Shelly,” you sigh. You wipe your bloody nose again. “Maybe she’ll kill me for free.”

Anything would be better than becoming the center of the nurses' gossip, even getting lectured by a pissed-off hospital administrator who won’t believe her luck when she sees what happened to you.

You leave the emergency room with the intention of avoiding any and all mirrors, but when you pass the vending machine, you catch a glimpse of your face in the glass. The reflection is a bit runny. Your nose is blue and swollen, but it could be worse. What strikes you the most is the small smile on your lips. You’re used to being covered in bruises—a real smile is a rarity.

You pull away, looking back down at the card in your hands. This feels less like a curse now.

You can either regret something that happened or regret something you didn’t do out of your own fears paralyzing you. You have the choice. You’re in charge of your life now, and you would rather regret trying something and it not working out than never trying it and regretting it when the opportunity has passed you by.

You will call Matt, and you won’t be afraid because he’s the present and all of your fears are from the past. There is no place for the past in your present, let alone in the future. If you ever want to heal, you have to allow yourself to settle down. Perhaps that will finally give you back a piece of what you’ve lost.

“Yeah,” you say to yourself, “I’ll call him.”

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #reader insert #charlie cox #do no harm

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itsoutrageouss · 3 months

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Like a bellflower - chapter one

chapter one of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction.

warnings: violence, death, blood, the word 'rape', general apocalyptic angst things yk

words: 2,6k

Story taglist

1. A stoic rescue

✿✿✿

“If we don’t find some more fucking ammo soon I swear i’m going to kill someone,” Kade grumbled as we all walked along a broad gravelly road. He bit into the last of his dried meat with anger, ripping the flesh apart aggressively with his teeth. His arm nearly hit me as it swung back. I always stayed behind the four of them. Kade, Ryan, Sarah and Cole. When they found me, and agreed to pick me up along with them I thought I could find solidarity in Sarah. A girl. Or a woman I should say, because she is a lot more woman than me.

Her shoulders were as broad as the mens, her figure sturdy and hardened like her face. No solidarity was to be found in those eyes. She met me like the men did; looking down at me with clenched jaws, demanding I fix us all food and making mean jokes when I try to brush and fix my hair.

“That ain’t going to fix nothing sweetheart- how about a trip to the salon instead? It’ll be on me,” Kade would say with a nasty grin and they would all belt out laughter while they tended to their guns like I tend to my hair, with the same kind of care. The kind you should never use on weapons.

“But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue,” I always quote, biting my tongue until metal melts in my mouth.

“You have to calm down, we’re almost at the next town. If there isn’t any ammo, we’ll butcher someone that has some.” Cole replies, walking with fast, tough steps. They were always so hard, so violent. I watched intensely as my feet kicked the gravel. My gun didn’t have a lot of ammo left either but I would rather not have to hurt someone to get more. I’d run if I had to, but I really didn’t.

The rest of the walk was silent, until old suburban houses started appearing. No one spoke to me. Wordlessly everyone divided to ransack the houses. Cole and Kade went together, so did Ryan and Sarah. Sarah, a dainty, feminine name for a woman with cold, rejecting eyes. No solace. I walked on my own, shoulders slumping.

The house was a pale blue, the door was off the hinges completely, and I stepped over the rotten wood. Dust swirled in the beams of light that were pushing through barred windows. Someone had stayed here for a while, it looked like. Empty cans of food were piled on the dirty kitchen tiles. When I glanced back at the broken down door, I noticed the beating it had taken. The blood stains that the wood had absorbed. Scratch marks. I didn’t want to think of what had happened here, and instead I filtered through the flashes of sunlight, the warmth pulsing on my cheek. The air smelled like rotten wood too, as well as flowers. They bloomed in the corners of the walls, through broken tapestry they unfolded like nothing had ever bothered them. Like the whole world wasn’t dying. Untouched by the destruction, pretty and blooming. I wished to be like the flower.

There was no ammo, but in the back cabinets I found old cans of beans that must’ve been forgotten in whatever hurry had happened here. Between the wooden beams that barred the window I saw the others gathering in the middle of the road. Soldiers, they looked like. Machines. They made my skin crawl and every soft thing inside me hardened. I solidified, when everything I fought for everyday was to be soft. Free, fresh and blooming like a flower. A war between me and the world to preserve the delicate human I was, but I felt like throwing it all up when Kade looked at me. He made me feel like he wanted to rape me. His eyes were wide like a drug addict, and his stare a direct look into the most damaged soul I had ever met in my life. I had no clue what his story was and I was terrified to find out. He wanted to hurt the world like it had hurt him and I didn’t want to be here to see it but I had nowhere else to go.

They talked aggressively to each other, heads bent close together even though there probably wasn't anyone around for miles. I still never got used to seeing people standing in the middle of the roads. The cars were supposed to be there. And now all the cars were flipped upside down and stripped for parts. Sarah crushed a spiring dandelion under her foot. Her black, greasy hair flipped around her head when she talked. The day was beautiful but the people were not.

We decided to camp there, in the house I found. I found a broken family photo in a bedroom upstairs. I was frozen, sitting on a four poster bed with a family full of strangers in my hand. This room was a memory in time. A photo in itself. If not for the barricaded window, where the sunlight slowly turned red, you wouldn’t be able to tell that life had died everywhere around it. So I stayed there all night. I went downstairs silently, like a child who’d awoken from a nightmare. But there were no parents downstairs, and I crept silently around them to grab a can of beans. Kades big hand squeezed my fragile wrist harshly and the can dropped from my hand. “You’re not taking all of that,” he spoke harshly before opening the can and pouring almost all of the content into an empty one. The rest he gave to me. “Sit down,” he stroked my wrist where he’d hurt me and I coiled away, sitting down reluctantly. I never joined their talk. Ryan was the nicest of them all, though the difference in their behaviors were minimal. They had been just them for so long that Sarah was Ryan and Ryan was Cole and all of them were Kade. Not one authentic trait that wasn’t given to them by the apocalypse. None of their own selves left from before. I pitied it, sort of. When they dozed off in their sleeping bags I snuck back up and crawled under the cold comforter in the bedroom with the photo on the pillow next to me. I tried to imagine living here. With my family, when they were still here. Sleeping next to my parents in their bed even though i probably was a bit too old for it. We wouldn’t tell anyone. Tomorrow we’d make breakfast together, maybe?

Those thoughts put me to sleep.

Bang. I woke with such a violent start that my hand flung the photo to the carpeted floor. It was already broken, but now the glass had fallen out of the frame in pieces completely. I had ruined the last memory of this family. Another bang. It was gunshots and the crashes that followed rumbled the old flooring beneath me. Impulsively I ripped the photo from the frame and stuck it in my pocket. I didn’t know how to move. We had never been in this situation. I had never been apart from the group when we were attacked. They were always there and always merciless. I had to fend for myself still, because they prioritized each other over me anytime. Sometimes it was as if they would purposefully let me fight on my own despite them being fully capable of helping me. I swung my backpack on, in case I had to run again. My hands trembled and the gun nearly slipped from my grasp. I creaked open the bedroom door, right at the top of the stairs. “Fucking get him!” I heard Ryan yell. More crashes, grunts. The stairs creaked as I took a step but another noise covered it. Blood sprayed on the wall next to the broken front door. Greasy black hair, fell with a thud to the ground. Blood started to pool around Sarah’s head, which was all of her I could see from this angle. I breathed in. It smelled like being on summer camp. Sunlight, fresh air but a metallic, wooden scent interfered with the peaceful memory. Kane roared and I heard him surge towards whoever the perpetrator was. I closed my eyes harshly until it hurt, then I opened them and ran down the stairs as the spots faded away from my sight. My gun was stretched in front of me. Everything after that happened so fast I barely caught it. An elbow to Ryan's face who stumbled backwards. To clean shots through Cole's stomach. Bang, bang, thud. Bile rose in my throat. My gun was still in front of me. I didn’t move. I didn’t know what I felt.

A loud grunt, a missed shot but a punch to the gut from Kade to the stranger. He was hardened too, but not in the cold, menacing way of the others. He looked human, I thought, right before he twisted Kades arm around in a nasty crack, pushing his back into the man's chest before firing a bullet right through his temples. Kade looked at me then, and for the first and only time I saw something else in his eyes. He looked scared. Like a little boy who’d been told off. Who’d been left alone and scolded and shown no love, who now pleaded for it for the last time ever. And then my eyes turned sympathetic. I did everything I could to give him that last piece of whatever feeling closest to affection I had for him and a peace fell over his eyes right as the bullet tore through him. My mouth was sour, and I leaned down, throwing up right next to Sarah’s body.

The stranger let Kade fall to his knees, discarded him and stalked towards me with a reaction time that seemed inhuman. I expected the harsh, calloused hands of a man piercing my skin. Like Kade’s used to. I dropped the gun. It landed in my own puke. The man stopped between me and the mess. We both looked down. Then we looked up. My eyes were filled with hot, stingy tears from throwing up. Maybe fear. He breathed harshly, quickly and his nostrils flared. His eyes were dark as he looked demandingly underneath his furrowed brows. He had a handsome face, salt and pepper scruff, a hooked nose and sloped lips. But he also was hardened from this world.

His shoulders fell, quickly aware that I probably wasn’t the biggest threat around. That irritated me, and I squared up, fisting my hands. “Get away or I'll punch you.” I said. There was volume in my voice that I didn't expect. He didn’t move, but looked down on my petty gun again. Then he turned around, and started searching the bodies of my old crew. He took their guns, searched them. I stood still. I was shaking like a leaf and tears rolled down my cheeks now silently. I wasn’t sad for these people. I was sad for the last time this happened. When it was the people I cared for that lay still while I stood up. I cried for them, tightly fisting the photo of the family I found in my pocket. The man stopped, and looked at me. “I’ll leave some stuff for you,” he said. His voice was gruff. And it hit me like bricks, so hard I nearly folded into two again. I was going to be left alone. The man was looking done, about to leave again. Then there would be silence, like when snow falls. Nothing.

“Take me with you,” I said, too desperate for my liking but suddenly he felt like the last thing I had in the world even though I didn't even know his name.

“No,” he said, and walked out the backdoor without looking back. I wiped my gun off in Sarah’s shirt, with a little regret but not so much that i felt guilty and followed the man out. He had a horse that was tied to a tree.

“You have to.” i stated, my breathing quick and shallow. I would not let him leave.

“I don’t, actually.”

Did he not feel any remorse? What if that was my family he just killed, and then left me for myself. Not even so merciful as to put me in the grave with them? But they weren’t my family and I would not go with them into death, but this man didn’t know.

“You just killed everything around me.” It wasn’t the first time that had happened and I felt like I was grasping at water, trying to hold it in my hand. I heaved in a gasp of shock and sorrow and it was what finally made him look at me. His brows furrowed even more, if possible. His face softened, and I swore I saw guilt flash across his still-new features. He was listening.

“I’m silent. You won’t even know i’m here. And as soon, I promise, as soon as we come across somewhere else I can stay, I'll leave. But you owe me a ride.” I wasn’t used to selling myself, to making me sound like someone you’d want along on your travels and even though my face heated with embarrassment and the words I spoke, it was all the hope I had not to curl up in that four poster bed until I withered into nothing.

He said nothing for a while, looking somewhere behind me in thought. I mustered my most desperate eyes. I tried baring my soul through them for him to see that I needed this. He already seemed ways better than any of the four people that had taken me upon since the tragic incident.

“As soon as we find something.. livable, you’re gone.” he grumbled. The relief made my knees weak, air seeped out of me uncontrollably and I had to hold onto the tree so as to not fall in on myself.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered, tasting tears on my lips that I wiped profusely. I was not to be a burden to this man before I had even gotten onto his horse.

“Just follow me and stay quiet,” he said, pulling the horse along with him. We walked, and I didn't look back. The blue house I swore to leave forever behind me. The photo I held onto. The sun was only just rising, cold and bright as it stretched over the abandoned houses. We walked in the middle of the road, on each side of the horse. I felt warmth on my skin, on my hair and I combed it down with my fingers and braided it down my back. And no one laughed, or said anything. I realized this might have been my rescue as I looked up at the pine trees ahead, instead of down at the gravel. I looked anywhere I liked and made my hair look nice and I stroked the now curled up photo with my thumb, looking over at the man.

“What's your name?”

I had already broken one of three rules: stay silent, follow me, leave me alone as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re not very good at this.”

Even his scolding, and his glare was everything Kades wasn’t. There was no malice, no intention to hurt. I didn’t feel fear in my gut.

“I’m Belle. Like the princess” I peaked over the horse’s moving body.

“Like bellflowers,” he said, glancing at me for barely a second. Like a bellflower, blooming, delicate and untouched by the world. I wish it was so.

“Joel. My name is Joel”

✿✿✿

chapter two

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princessamericachavez · 11 months

Text

My thoughts about the Ted Lasso finale (no particular order)

The end montage was obviously Ted’s dream for the future and not even subtly so jot that down

Actually just gonna add that this is the show’s way of telling us the potential these characters have and what Ted wishes for them but without his presence it’s up to them now

Roy mouthing alone to Goodbye, Farewell broke me because he’s clearly the one who put together the choreography

Also Dani singing? My most beloved

Jaime and Roy clashing one last time might have pissed some people off but this was always a rock in their shoe that they needed to address and we see that their relationship can and will survive it

I like Rebecca’s romcom ending even if I wanted her to end with Ted.

Ted going back to his son was necessary and the whole point. He always blamed his father for abandoning them. When he came to Richmond he was all but running away from his family in hopes things would magically fix themselves. Instead, he put in the work and healed. But his biggest triggers were always connected to him missing his son’s life. In the end, Ted’s growth was the point so he could go back to them and be the best version of himself for them and for himself.

Ted not talking while Rebecca rambles was actually perfect. Old bitter Rebecca would’ve never opened up like that. But old Ted would’ve also rushed to reassure her or try to make a joke or cheer her up. This time, Ted lets her speak and then sticks to his guns, even if the truth is uncomfortable for others. He allows himself to do this for himself and not to please others.

Beard staying for Jane was foreseeable given the toxic codependent nature of their relationship. Happy perfect endings don’t exist. His story is still developing.

Furthermore, the real growth came from Beard letting himself choose something regardless of what Ted is doing and breaking himself free from a cycle of guilt and feeling in debt.

I know it was in the dream but god I hope Roy gets therapy. We did see the roots of him wanting to change and be better and accept the help he needs so he’s in the right path.

Keeley/Roy/Jamie is still endgame in my heart. Eventually. Once all three are in the right place.

The himbos singing made me cry. A lot.

Even if it was in the dream, if Jamie actually chose to reconnect to his dad somehow I think it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He would get to do it on his terms and only because he chose to have him in his life to some degree. Which might simply be being civil and talking from time to time, so long as his father keeps putting in the work to better himself and takes steps to make amends and apologize and acknowledge all his wrongs. Who knows. It’s an open ending.

Loved everything about the match.

Glad Van Damme got closure from Rani Dojas and that Dani acknowledged his part in what happened and tried to make amends.

CANT believe they made me feel sorry for George.

The cold open was a tease but I loved to see what could’ve been (and who says Ted and Rebecca didn’t find each other while running away from all that noise and one thing less t another…)

I wish we’d seen Sam’s restaurant and his cute chef one last time.

Actually wish we’d had a little bit of all the other himbos.

And finally

Finally

I… don’t think it was the series’s finale. I don’t know. I might be wrong but lately all interviews from the cast suggest deep down they hope something else will come and maybe they’ll be like “you know what, this story isn’t over” or something.

That last scene and the musical cue with Ted’s final shot felt so dissonant to me. Like there’s something still unfinished there.

I, like Roy Kent, have all my fingers crossed.

#Ted lasso #Ted lasso spoilers #tl spoilers

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st-kitten · 5 months

Text

mastermind

hitman toji fushiguro x y/n

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mentions of killing, dead bodies, openly talking about murder, toji's big dick energy, choking, also just kissing (we need to make kissing sexy. smut ain't the only hot thing)

you're sitting in a local internet café, studying peacefully, taking sips from your coffee occasionally. the bells hung at the door jingle and someone walks in. from the corner of your eye, you spot a person walking past you. you hear muffled conversation between that person and the cashier. he hands him an envelope, which the stranger shoves into his pocket.

you would've usually ignored people, but this one was hard to look away from. ripped at every edge, dressed in a cashmere sweater that chanted "peace", but paired with a face adorned with a scar that said the complete opposite, this person caught your eye and you kept looking at him.

sadly, you caught his eye too.

"what are ya starin' at, sweetheart?" his voice matched his appearance. hot.

"nothing, i'm blind," you joke, looking away from him.

he scoffs a laugh. he eyes you up and down. toji never took risks, especially if he thought he was being tailed. but you looked like an ordinary girl. black top with the thinnest, most useless noodle-like strips on your shoulder, one of them almost falling off, rose pink bra straps peeking underneath them. you had a short, pleated skirt on, so there was no chance of you hiding a gun. you didn't seem threatening. but, he didn't like loose ends. he sat down in front of you.

"and what do you do?" he asks, looking at you, as if he's waiting for you to slip up.

"study."

"studying what?"

"neurology"

"boring," he says. it irks you that he calls it boring, but you roll with it.

"and what do you do?" you ask.

to test you, toji actually replies with the truth. "i'm a hit man." a wide grin sits on his face. instead of seeing discomfort or fear on your face, he sees a spark of curiosity.

"oh?"

"yup. i'm not lyin'. i'm always on the run, after my target. i get paid a lot for it. i'm too good at it."

you just tilt your head and analyse him...

"you're still curious?" he asks with a smirk, seemingly interested by your refreshing demeanour.

"here i thought you were just a nerd. what's your name?"

"i'll give you my name. for a price," you say.

"interesting. aight. i'll bite. what's a fella like me have to do to earn a name?"

you look around the room and spot a man sitting alone at a computer, clearly looking at porn in a corner.

"him..." you say and toji looks at him. "hypothetically, how would you kill him without anyone noticing?" you ask.

"that'd be a toughie. but, i'd say a shot from a hidden distance would do it. but there'd be a chance that it would alert everyone. if not, then..." toji thinks for a moment.

"he's too entertained to notice anyone, so i could... 'hypothetically' take an empty syringe and inject his vital points with air and leave him to die of a stroke."

you smile, satisfied with his answer. "my name is y/n."

toji chuckles, leaning back in the chair. "pleasure to meet you, y/n. what do 'you' do for a living?"

"i study-"

"you already sa-"

"murderers."

his face falters for a second. "murderers? you like studying about...us?"

"what can i say, you lot are entertaining."

"i do take pride in it. you know what, you're something else. i'll give you that."

"so, hypothetically..." you look at him, eyes ablaze with excitement "... how would you kill me?"

"now why'd you bring that up? you're fucking adorable. why would i kill you?'" he smirks, but he's still curious about you. "but hey, to answer honestly, 'hypothetically'... definitely a shot in the back."

you grin. "cold... if you ever must kill me, please kill me like that."

"is that so?" he rests his elbow on the table, leaning forward, a classic smirk on his face. there was something about that got to him.

"i might just like you."

"likewise."

"you're not creeped out? the fact that i'm one of the 'murderers' you study about?"

"i find you fascinating. it takes a unique resolve to take someone's life," you answer.

"i get the adrenaline rush from watching the life drain out of someone. it's hard to explain. it can only be felt." he looks at you, wondering how you're calm.

"how do you get your adrenaline rush?" he asks.

you smirk too. "i get it from autopsies."

he nearly chokes himself. he moves his chair closer to yours. "how so?"

"i get to work with cadavers a lot."

"and you don't feel like throwing up?" he wonders.

"my fascination is stronger than my disgust, so no."

he was definitely intrigued by your straight responses. there was not a smidge of fear on your face. were you actually interested in him?

"here." you spin your laptop around to show him pictures of two brains side by side.

"uh, okay?"

"person..." you point to the one on the right. "... psychopath." you point to the other.

toji gulps slightly. the way you casually have pictures of dead brains on you unsettles him. isn't he the one to carry pictures of his targets?

"can't tell much."

"the other has underdeveloped areas in the brain. no empathy, no emotional wisdom," you say.

"damn. you'd scare the next person to walk in... but i gotta admit... ya got me wondering things."

"and you called neurology boring..." you comment.

he simply laughs. "it's still boring. you're not. why are you so... inquisitive?" he's actually impressed by himself for knowing that word.

"i won't know if you'd actually kill me, but as long as i'm alive, might as well be honest," you say.

"good way of putting it. but if i were to kill you, i wouldn't do it in public. i'd do it somewhere isolated."

"why the isolation?" you ask.

"you've already attracted attention. mr would-ve-been-dead has stared at you at least a dozen times. the cashier too. they'd notice if i were to do something to you. plus, i gotta keep things silent. in the middle of nowhere, is the perfect place to kill you." he's never actually talked about his profession to anyone. so this feels strangely refreshing.

"where's the fun in that tho? if you get anyone alone, it'll always be easy to hurt them, kill them. the thrill is in the chase... the fear you imbibe in your victim... the way you practically spell their death out for them moments before you actually do it."

"i'm beginning to think you're as dangerous as me, y/n. have you thought about killing anyone before?"

you had his complete attention now.

"you might make a tactical assassin. i'll tell you that much."

"i have. but why do it myself? i'd rather orchestrate the perfect murder without lifting my finger," you reply.

toji's eyes light up as he hears you say that. he's someone to work alone, but hearing that from you almost makes him want to have you plan a murder for him.

"exciting isn't it?"

"that's one word for it... i don't know whether i should be scared of you or... i like the way you think. it's unique."

"why would you be scared of me? you're the killer."

he chuckles. "the way you're all calm and collected... it's cute."

you hold back on grinning like an idiot. how does a cold-blooded killer even say the word 'cute'?

"want me to act scared, then?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

"no. i like you as you are..."

you laugh softly. "who knew hitmen could be this charming?"

"aww, ya flattered, y/n? most people would shit their pants and make a run for it..."

"i understand the fear of others. but, i've spent years studying killers, victims, their bodies... you just get used to the gore after a point."

"yer right i suppose. sorry, i gotta say you look fucking hot, smirking like that... like a killer," he says.

you give him another smirk, as a treat. "what's your favourite type of victim?"

he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "you ask too many questions. why? doesn't it make you wonder that i might snap and kill you?"

"i study killers, toji... i'm not wasting the chance to talk to one. especially since he's being so cooperative..."

"you know what? you're the first person who hasn't bolted out of here. you're actually sitting and talking to me... you're not fazed at all."

instantly, you look at him with fear in your eyes. the kind of fear a victim would have upon nearing death. your hands shake and your breath quickens, your bosom heaving.

toji's expression changes as he takes you in.

you drop the act and regain your composure. "do you like seeing fear in people's eyes?"

"well- that... was certainly something..." he has an eerie expression on his face, but at the same time, he is in awe. the way you suddenly changed your behaviour alarmed him. just enough to impress him. is this how you look when you're scared?

"and yes. i do enjoy it. especially if the fear is because of me and not the fact that they're about to die." his voice seems almost... lustful at the end.

"and what do you do to spark this fear in people?" you ask.

"i'm silent, calm, sometimes i provoke them. i don't rush. i let them run as fast as they can. but i always find them in the end. sometimes i act creepy, unsettling, just to give my targets something to notice and get uncomfortable about. most lose their ability to fight then and there. other times, i stalk them, tracking their movements, always lurking behind them until they lose it."

he seems to enjoy answering your questions.

"can you... show me?" you ask.

his eyes widen. "show you? you're not serious... are you that careless with your life?"

"of course, i don't want you to kill me. but, i'm curious... so... make me afraid."

he stays silent for moment. and then smiles. "i'm going to enjoy this." he meets your eye. "in isolation, as i said..."

you hold out your hand. "lead the way."

he takes it gently, a mischievous smirk on his face. he pulls you out of your chair and opens the door, leading you outside. with the pace of a waltz, he leads you away from the café (fuck the fact that we just left our laptop back there XD).

he develops a smug aura around him. he guides you into a desolate alley. you look around and say, "nice choice."

"you can stay and fight or you can run... pick your poison," he says.

"not one to fight..." you begin taking steps away from him, backing away into the long, dark alley. you pick up the pace and jog backward, still facing him. he patiently walks toward you, one step after the other. he was enjoying it. it was exhilarating.

"i leave the rest to you," you say as you turn around to jog away from him, faster than before.

knowing that you're willing to let him have his way with you turns him on. it's different from actually doing the job. it's more intimate. he can get as creative as he wants and be thanked for it. he walks behind you. being tall, he takes long strides easily and creeps behind you.

you hardly sense his presence. you still feel as if he's miles away. before you can speed up, his hand grabs your hair and pulls you, your back hitting his chest. you let out a small gasp at the pain.

he leans in closer, his breath hovering over your neck. "what are you feeling?"

"goosebumps."

"not a bad start." he loosens his grip slightly. "you sure you want this?" he whispers in your ear.

"give it your all."

he lets you go momentarily and you run. as fast as you can. your lungs burn hot, yet you can still hear footsteps behind you. it makes your heart pulse. he's chasing you. not rushing. yet somehow, he always finds you. you think of hiding, but it's futile since you're not in actual danger. you take swift strides until the only sound you hear is of your own heart beats. you make the mistake of looking behind. he's not there. maybe you ran too fast.

your body hits another and you swallow in mild shame. dumbass, you tell yourself.

"dumbass," he says as he grabs your arm, yanks you and pushes you into a wall. your back hits the wall hard.

"fight or flight doesn't work when the danger is fake... can't help it," you comment. toji doesn't respond to you. he's silent.

his grip on your arm tightens. he steps forward, closer and closer until you feel his breath on you. yet you feel that something's amiss.

"don't hold back..." you say softly.

toji hid his astonishment well. he had no idea how you saw through him. he tilts his head, looking at you. admiring you. he never bothered to pay attention to his victims. it's always kill, leave, get paid. but seeing the way your body reacts to him, the way your chest heaves, the way your lips part to breath on behalf of your lungs, the way your eyes search for ways to escape, to flee from him, the way he's holding you, the way you're backed into a wall, trapped. it does things to him. how were you enjoying it?

"so far... i'm just attracted to you... terrify me, toji..."

he was not expecting you to admit that. but he was pleased. his eyes ignite with a raw passion. he gazes at you like a hunter does his prey. he turns your own imagination against you.

the hand latched onto your arm runs up to your neck, like a serpent slithering up its prey. with a vice-like grip, he grabs your throat, fingers pushing your flesh. he can feel your pulse. it's well within his grasp to completely shut it.

he's completely consumed by how good it feels to choke someone. the morbid pleasure distracts him, and he becomes infested by the macabre satisfaction of exerting control over another's life. he's nothing thinking about anything but the pulses against his fingers and how they're quickening every second. his touch is both cold and malevolent, a tangible manifestation of the darkness that now envelops him.

your struggle intensifies slightly, but he remains unyielding, a sadistic puppeteer manipulating the strings of your very existence. in that twisted moment, you realise that you are not merely rehearsing an impulsive thought, but confronting an actual physical threat. yet somehow, you can't help but feel vivacious at the same time. you feel every organ in your body trying to keep you alive. your frozen mouth twists into the smallest of smiles.

"tighter."

this snaps toji back into his senses. there's a chilling determination that replaces any trace of hesitation as he brutally hardens his grip around your neck. the blur sharpens and his other hand grabs your waist, pressing you further against the wall. a mild whimper escapes your lips, a haunting sound that pierces through Toji's consciousness like a chilling spear. it only serves to fuel the sinister satisfaction that courses through him.

he wedges his knee between your legs and leans in, breathing against your lips.

"seems i do have a favourite victim after all..." he whispers and presses his lips onto yours, your soft moan melting in his mouth.

to make it hotter, you place your arms on his chest, pushing him away with no strength at all. he chuckles into the kiss, embracing the feeble challenge and presses his body against yours roughly, living for the way you try to resist. your attempts to push him away only serve to stoke the flames of his desire, a sadistic flame that flickers higher with each futile effort. his knee rubs against you and you fail to hold back another moan, which coaxes your mouth open. with a swift lick, toji shoves his tongue inside. he kisses you with an appetite, with more lust, more pride.

it's a chilling acknowledgment that your make-believe struggle is not only noticed but savoured.

dazed, you pull away for a second, cursing at the little thief of joy, your own lungs as they pant breathlessly.

toji losens the grip around your throat slowly, letting blood flow through again. gradually, he removes his hand, admiring the marks his fingers leave behind. he holds you by the waist tenderly.

you hold his bicep to support yourself as you stand up properly, regaining your balance.

"bet you're glad you didn't kill me off," you croak, your voice raspy due to his chokehold.

"very..."

your eyes meet and you both smirk...

"you knew who i was before i walked in, didn't you?" he asks, feeling like a fool for not seeing it sooner. all those people in the café staring at you were doing just that. staring, keeping a watch. not undressing you, admiring you, lusting over you. just sincerely looking out for you.

"bygones..."

"you're gonna arrest me now, sweetheart?"

"tsk," you shake your head.

"why not?"

"you're holding a knife to my throat next time."

#toji #fushiguro #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #kissing #assassin #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #new

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

The Spencer Mansion

STARS Office Part 2

Part 1

Albert Wesker x fem!reader, Chris Redfield x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: canon level violence, Wesker toeing the line of using the reader and being in love with her, Chris thinking the reader is dead, canon level injuries

Tagging: you all mentioned wanting a part 2, I hope you don't mind that I tagged you! <3 @boywivlove @fanartcollectorwriter @chaotic-fangirl-blog

Author’s Note: A lot of people have suggested I do a part two to stars office and I always meant to but never got around to it! I hope that you guys like this. Id be open to a part three (and hopefully do it quicker this time around lol). Thinking for part three that I could do two endings, one for chris and one for wesker....

I also added this request to the plot : @zedonna , If not that, then maybe a possible scenario where Reader replaces Richard? Instead of Chris finding him and Rebecca, he sees reader with the snake bite (someone he is close to and harbor feelings for) But for extra angst, maybe chris doesnt find the serum in time and comes back only to find Rebecca has abandoned a now deceased Reader. ( Totally not what happened my first playthrough with Richard) Thank you, anything is appreciated!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The tension in the helicopter was poignant and undeniable. You wouldn’t be there for long but the emotions hung in the air like dreamcatchers, haunting and sticky. Wesker hadn’t said anything about Bravo Team and no one had asked him. You hadn’t personally heard a thing about Rebecca since she left the day before, or any of them for that matter. The air held onto the fear of the moment, not knowing what you were going into and not knowing if you would come back. It didn’t help that you were sitting across from Chris, who didn't want to make eye contact with you.

You felt bad. You knew that you had slept with Wesker to get back at him but Albert was right. He hadn’t actually made a move. It wasn’t your duty to control Redfield’s emotions, especially not so close to the field.

Jill was waiting for the right moment to ask you about it. The day before you had been best friends with Chris but now you were wearing the wrong shirt, clad with the hickies to match the rumors. Wesker hadn’t let up - why would he? What was everyone gonna do, tell the boss? He had an especially confident aura about him this morning. It was attractive. His jaw set and his disinterested eyes made him that much more alluring.

You tried to avoid eye contact.

“Bravo Team’s crashed helicopter is just below us. We’re going to land there and fan out in search for them. All contact has been lost and we don’t know what we’re going into,” Wesker announced, standing up and grabbing the railing above his head. “Think on your toes and don’t try to find each other if you get split up. We meet at the mansion if needed.”

There were a couple curt nods. Chris pretended not to listen as he looked out the window at the helicopter crash. His face was laced with concern. He cared so genuinely about all those people. Your helicopter lowered, slowly. You held your gun tighter as you got up, preparing to exit. You remained in line as you left, landing eventually on the ground below.

Jill moved forward to investigate.

“Stay low Vickers,” Wesker said into his comm. His voice was robotic now. You barely recognized the man you had been with last night. You came up behind him, gun held up, a flashlight in your other hand.

“Yes sir,” Brad responded. The joking manner in his voice left with the sun. It was now tension filled and dark, a low hanging fog creeping in around the eerie crash site.

“I don’t see anyone,” Barry exclaimed, from a little further in another direction. Wesker opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a growling noise coming from the crash. Everyone who heard turned their guns to face it. A dog emerged from the grass, teeth bared and slobbering. You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed. How had a dog gotten all the way out into the middle of Raccoon Forest? You barely had time to think of solutions when it snapped, jumping forward. It went at Jill, who was closest. You moved forward to grab her arm and help her up, unable to distinguish the noises around you.

Dogs were barking. More than one. You could hear people running, commotion happening. No one ever prepares you for the silence of the moment. There’s no background music to justify the violence. It’s just you and your thoughts, or lack thereof.

The helicopter rose.

Wesker yelled something, something at Brad in the helicopter. But he was leaving. You turned to try and find Albert but it was too dark. You and Jill ran in the direction of Barry, who you could make out. Chris was behind you in a second and then you had more companions than not. You were glad to be running the same way as them.

You weren’t sure where you were going, or where this supposed abandoned mansion was. But you followed Jill’s stumbling direction regardless until you reached something that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Barry and Chris opened the doors as you and Jill shot aimlessly into the dark, hoping to hit a target. You backed into the mansion and the doors shut. The silence was deafening. Heavy breathing and large open air but no longer any dogs. You breathed again.

“Good, you made it.” You turned around to face Wesker who was standing in the middle of the room. He was breathing slightly heavy but it was nothing compared to the rest of you.

“You take a shortcut or something?” Chris questioned, bitterly.

“I told you to follow me after Vickers got spooked.”

“Got spooked? Those were rabid dogs Wesker!” Jill pointed out. She peeked out one of the windows. Now that you were inside, you could take in your surroundings. You were in a grand hall, doors on either side and two staircases going to the level above you. The light on the chandelier was on.

“I thought this place was abandoned,” you pointed out.

“It was,” Wesker muttered.

“We should probably investigate it then. See who else is here. It might be Bravo Team,” Jill offered. Wesker nodded curtly.

“Well there’s no going out that way,” he said pointedly, gesturing to the front door. You could still hear the faint scratches of the dogs on the other side.

“This place is huge. There’s gotta be another way out,” Barry offered.

“Jill, Barry, you take the left door,” Wesker said. “Chris-”

“I can go by myself,” Chris noted. He gestured to the right door. “Try to keep your hands off each other.” You knew he was just hurt but it didn’t wound you any less.

“We really should try to stay together,” you offered.

“Let him dig his own grave,” Wesker offered sharply. Chris could’ve been swayed before but now he was gone, going up the stairs. You huffed out.

“We’ll meet back here in five, after looking around,” you said, looking at everyone. Chris waved his hand, Jill and Barry gave a disregarding nod. You opened up the door to the left and was greeted with a small room. There was a statue in the middle.

“Fucking Vickers,” you muttered. You moved your hair out of your face and looked back at Wesker. “Did you know he was gonna do that?”

“Of course not,” he offered. He tried the door at the end of the room. It was locked.

“You can shoot it.”

“And waste a bullet on a door?” He gave you a dumb look. His glasses covered his eyes, making it unable to get a read on him. There was a curtain on the other side of the door. You moved it aside.

You raised your gun.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” you questioned, turning the corner.

“What is there to talk about?” He was following you.

You side eyed him.

“I told you, I don’t do it often. In the eye of danger, I give into impulses.” You refused to believe that was all it was. The way that he held your face…that couldn’t have been conjured up for looks.

“Alright,” you grumbled. “And the way you acted towards Chris this morning?”

“Will you focus?” You rolled your eyes and entered the side room. There was a man passed out on the ground. You rushed forward to him, leaning down, gun still at the ready. Wesker hung behind you. You reached at his neck to check for a pulse, unable to see his face. You got nothing. You looked up at Wesker, about to tell him the unknown man was dead, when the man moved.

You jumped, scampering back. Wesker raised his gun. The man stood warily, unsteady on his feet. You crawled behind Wesker as he shot without so much as a warning. The noise echoed off the small hallway. Wesker shot the man three times but he still stood, unaffected. His mouth opened, drool coming from his face. He didn’t look…human. He looked like he was dead, like his pulse.

One more gunshot from Wesker in the face took him out. He fell back down. Your eyes were wide, breath heaving.

“Be careful. Things don’t like to stay dead around here.” You looked up at him, amazed or annoyed you couldn’t tell. He offered you and a hand and helped you up.

“What the fuck was that Al?”

“You know what it was.” You wanted to tell him you sure as hell did not know. You thought about Night of the Living Dead. You thought about Evil Dead. Wesker turned to leave, leaving you amazed in his wake.

“Albert was that a zombie?”

He didn’t answer you. You reopened the door to the main room. You were happy to be in a larger space but now every corner was menacing. What was lurking where you couldn't see? Jill and Barry came from the door across the hall.

“There’s something there! A monster!” Jill exclaimed. You ran to her, out of habit. She was one of your best friends and her distress sent you into protection mode. Suddenly you wanted Chris back. You looked up to the stairs, searching for him.

“We saw it too,” you said.

“We have to separate and find a way out of here,” Barry explained.

“This place is huge!” you argued.

“Where’s Wesker?” Jill asked. You turned around. He was gone. Where had he gone? He came with you into the main room hadn’t he? You opened up the door again but he wasn’t there.

“He was just…he was just here!”

“Chris?!” Barry called up the stairs. You were scared. The fear petrified you in your spot. Where were they? You didn’t want Jill to leave your sight. You wanted to stay planted right next to her.

“Oh God, what happened to Bravo Team?” Jill asked, breathing out hollowly.

“You want to split up?” you spat at Barry.

“Chris could be dead,” Jill muttered.

“We need to cover ground quickly. It just makes the most sense,” Barry promised. “You both of your weapons. You’re trained to deal with abnormal issues.” He stood in front of you and Jill. She was holding your elbow. “You won't be able to find them if you just stand here.”

He directed it to both of you but it seemed like he was talking to you.

“Wesker couldn’t have gone far,” you maintained.

“Then go find him.” Jill looked like she wanted to future protest. She looked up at the stairs.

“I’ll go for Chris,” she said, voice still wary.

“We all come back here when we’ve found an exit. It’s the central part of the house.” You didn’t want to know more details. What if no one came back? What if you were stuck waiting for someone who had been a zombies dinner? Where was Chris? Was he okay?

“Find him,” you told Jill. She nodded. “Stay safe,” you whispered. You didn’t want to leave but you forced yourself to move away. You had to go. You had to go.

You opened the door again. Wesker must’ve gone back to this room. God knows why he didn’t just wait until you had all made a game plan. You refrained from calling his name, holding your gun tightly in your hands so the blood left them.

The zombie in the corner was still down. You tried the locked door again. It opened, weak on the hinges. He must’ve broken through it. You took a step through, trying to breath through the nerves. He was around. He had to be.

The mansion was like a maze, filled with puzzles and locked doors. You had a hard enough time finding out where you were, let alone where everyone else was. You were met with zombies and disregarded ammunition. The Bravo team was here. You weren’t sure if they were anymore.

No sign of Wesker but even less sign of anyone else. You hadn’t seen Jill, Barry or Chris since you split up with them. At the confines of the mansion you felt like the problems of yesterday were far less important.

That was, until you saw Chris rounding a corner.

He held his gun up, prepared to shoot an oncoming zombie, but was just met with you. He let out a sigh of relief and it was like there was never any ill will. You rushed to each other, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Chris oh God,” you muttered against his arm. You had never been so happy to see your friend. “I haven’t seen anyone in forever.” In reality it had likely only been an hour but that hour seemed like a lifetime.

“I thought you were dead,” he exclaimed. “I saw Barry briefly, and Wesker.”

“Where?” You still were unsure how Wesker had evaded your searching. He had only a couple minutes of a head start.

“Upstairs somewhere. I lost Barry outside, when some…some of those things…” He shook his head. He grabbed your shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too.” He nodded once. “I found a couple keys laying around. I don’t know what they go to.” He offered you some of the keys he had found. They had symbols on them. You had found one, a Spencer key. You pooled them together.

“We should see if these lead to a way out. How did you get outside?”

“Through some wall,” he explained. “I don’t know who made this place but they need to take another architecture class.” You nodded.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Wesker. I was angry and he made a move and I felt bad.” He shook his head.

“It isn’t the time.”

“It could be the only time,” you explained. “I’m sorry Chris.” His face evened out into a genuine gaze.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry too, for making such a big deal of it.” You nodded once.

“It’s okay,” you promised. “We’re cool?”

“We’re cool,” he agreed. You tilted your head, gesturing down the hall. “Let’s go kill some zombies, Redfield.”

“Hey, I got this key. There’s a door down the hall I wanna try,” you said. Chris was messing with the piano in one of the rooms.

“How far down the hall?”

“Across the main room.” He narrowed his eyes on you. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s far. You can’t wait?”

“I’ll just be a second.” You and Chris hadn’t gotten far on your own. He couldn’t play the piano and you couldn’t read sheet music. You were at odds. You knew Jill could play and she had to be around here somewhere. He swallowed hard.

“If you’re not back here in five minutes I’m dropping all of my progress.”

“Yes sir.” You saluted him half heartedly and left the room. You rushed down to the other side of the hall, trying at the door you had seen locked earlier. The door opened slowly. You were met with a zombie, who you shot in the face. Only afterwards did you check to see if the zombie had familiar features. This had been people. What if some had been your people? What if one of them was Jill and you didn’t know until it was too late?

You shuddered.

“Y/N.” Your eyes went wide at the sight of Rebecca.

“Rookie,” you breathed. “God Chambers, look at you.” She looked dirty and like she had gone through hell. She rushed up to you, glad to see a familiar face.

“You’re the first friendly face I’ve seen in ages.”

“Do you know where the rest of your team is?”

“Most dead,” she admitted, regrettably. “I lost the others. I crossed paths with Richard but then lost him again.” She looked down at the key in your hand. “Can you try this door?”

The words seemed normal.

You opened the door, expecting a zombie.

You were greeted with a snake. Giant, the size of a house. Things happened so quickly, things you weren’t even sure could happen. Rebecca shot and you vaguely thought about how Chris would come looking for you soon. You wished you hadn’t left him. But you had found Rebecca.

The snake bit at you, scratching your arm. You were just narrowly able to stumble out the door when you fell down, feeling the effects of it immediately. Rebecca rushed towards you, barricading the door as best she could. You looked up at her, worry lacing your eyes. You were bit. You were dead.

The door opened. Chris emerged.

You and Rebecca turned to him, breathing hard, bleeding in different places.

“I should’ve never let you leave,” he muttered.

“There was a room across the mansion that had some medicine bases,” Rebecca said, thinking quickly on her toes. Her words seemed too sharp. You couldn’t even feel the pain. It was starting to numb. You looked at Chris, frightened.

“Where?” he asked.

“It’s hard to explain. There are so many rooms.”

“You have to go with her,” you said. “She’s a medic, not a soldier.”

“She made it this far.”

“We don’t have time to argue. Do you wanna save her or not?” Rebecca felt awful. She had suggested you open the door and she hadn’t been prepared for what she would find on the other side. Chris looked conflicted, eyes gazing back to you.

“Go Chris.”

He gave you a pack of ammo.

“We’ll be five minutes,” he promised.

“I’ll come looking if you’re any longer,” you said dryly. He smiled weakly and looked at Rebecca.

“Lead the way.”

The silence was deafening. It was just you and the house again. You and the house and the snake next door. You and the house and the snake and the zombies that lurked, haunting your every step.

You were trying to be brave in the face of your adversaries but nothing seemed easy here. You regretted telling Chris to go. If you died from this, would you turn into one of those things? Would he have to find your body, still warm, knowing he was just barely too slow to save you?

Every option seemed worse as time went on.

When the door finally opened again, it wasn’t Chris or Rebecca.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Wesker’s voice was condensing in a meek way. Still, you were glad to see him. You were glad to see anyone living at this point. You held your arm, eyes like daggers.

“Be careful. I might turn into a zombie here soon and then you’ll have to shoot me.”

“I don’t have moral dilemmas like that.”

“So you’d shoot me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Wesker.” You adjusted your seating against the wall. He walked up to you and leaned down beside you. He grabbed your hand gently, moving it aside. He took off his glasses to examine the wound.

“Snake bite?” “Large snake. More like a scratch.” You were so used to his sunglasses that you took the moment to stare into his cloudy eyes. He glanced up at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“You’ll be fine,” he promised. He looked around in his tactical vest, searching for something. You watched with curious eyes. After a moment, he grabbed a vile. He put it against your arm wordlessly and injected you with it without warning. You winced, more at surprise than pain. He grabbed a bandage wrap out of his side.

“You’re awfully prepared for the worst,” you observed.

“I have to be. I’m the leader of this team.” He tied it shut, strengthening it with a knot. “Be more careful next time.”

“Where did you go?”

“When?”

“When we got to the main hall with Barry and Jill. You just left.”

“I thought I heard something. I went to investigate.” You didn’t believe that. He was close, sitting beside you now. You bite the inside of your mouth, still hazy from the snake bite or whatever he injected into you. Wesker didn’t mind your questions. In fact, he wanted to encourage them. You were smarter than the rest of the lot. He liked that you would always be just a single step behind him, rather than a whole staircase.

“Okay,” you said finally. “Can you help me up? Rebecca and Chris went looking for something to help me with. They’ve been gone too long.”

“You should know that there’s no use in trying to save all of them.”

“They’re my friends Albert.” He put a hand on your wrist, holding it gently.

“They won’t all live. There’s no use in you dying with them. It would be a waste of a talent and the waste of a sacrifice.”

“Who’s sacrificing themself?”

“Anyone who dies here is sacrificing themself for one of us.” He wanted to tell you it was a controlled experiment. He didn’t. You would find out soon enough.

“I don’t think I like that Wes,” you muttered.

“You don’t have to like it to live it.”

You felt more comfortable with Chris but you felt safer with Wesker. No harm would come to you while he was here. You grabbed his hand and held it for a moment.

“We’ll all get out of this.” You let his hand go and reopened the door.

He wanted to tell you no. Not everyone would make it out of this one. It was designed to kill some, to help others succeed. He knew you would be the latter. Even with the snake incident.

You went the back way to find Chris.

Five minutes after you left, he returned. He found a pool of your blood on the floor and he didn’t see you. His eyes went wide as he stood in the doorway, blocking Rebecca from being able to view it.

“What? What Chris?” She tried to shove him aside.

“She’s gone,” he breathed.

He tried to picture you as one of those…things. He tried to picture your eyes dead, your fingers peeling, your skin melting. He couldn’t. None of the mental images seemed to conjure, out of sheer fear. He could never kill you, even if you were already dead.

“Maybe she went looking for us?”

“We’re too late.”

“The snake bite doesn’t mean she’ll become one of the zombies.”

“It could. It’s the same thing, the same virus, isn’t it?” Rebecca had no sound argument against him. She knew as much as he did.

“She couldn’t have gone far. She went looking for us,” Rebecca said again. Chris didn’t have the heart to argue with her.

Wesker intended to lose you again but you were just so alluring, he couldn’t help himself from hanging around. He followed you around the mansion, he helped you kill the bioweapons, he ended the mystery of things that should have remained shrouded.

He figured you wouldn’t see Chris again until you reached the laboratory. He would keep you till then, saving you from that moral dilemma. It would be far more interesting for you to make the decision when you were before Tyrant, when you saw Wesker’s true colors. When you would’ve died without him. Could you live with him?

“Wesker come on,” your voice spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. “I think I found something.”

He followed you like a lost dog.

“Let me see.”

Final Part !

#albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x fem!reader #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x fem!reader #chris redfield x reader x albert wesker #chris redfield x fem!reader x albert wesker #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfiction

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