#That’s gonna hurt later… in more ways than one [finger guns; groans] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

j-eryewrites · 6 months ago

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Kin

Part Six of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST| MAIN MASTER LIST

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Word Count: 16.8k

Author's Note: (EDIT) Dang, it's been forever since I've had the chance to write in general. I want to say thank you for all your patience with me. My health has been horrible, and school and work have been crazy, leaving me little time to do the things I enjoy. I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

Anyway, I'll stop talking and let you read on.

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, angst and all the feels (I MEAN A LOT OF ANGST), blood, violence, and gore (let me know if I missed anything)

꧁_____________꧂

Three Months Later...

One thing Ellie hated the most was when she was under-estimated. She was sure Piper felt the same way when Joel became all high and mighty,, wanting to face the "bad guys" by himself rather than having the two of them help out. Ellie knew she could hold her own. For Piper, there was no doubt, but after what happened in Kansas City, it seemed like Joel had changed. Now, whether it was for good or bad, Ellie was unsure, but right now, it was leaning more towards bad.

The woman was completely harmless. In fact, Ellie had been puzzled as to how this woman had survived this long. Even so, Joel pushed the girls behind him; gun raised as he told the woman what was going to happen. Afterwards, forced the girls upstairs to hide while they waited for the woman's husband to come home. Ellie grumbled at that. If the husband was anything like the woman, Florence as she introduced herself, then Ellie could take both of them down in under a minute.

Ellie groaned as her head banged against the bedpost. "How long is this gonna take?" she muttered under her breath. Her eyes peered over at her sister, wondering if she had heard Ellie's words. Instead, Piper seemed to be in her own world. She was leaning up against the wall. Her gun was in her lap and her hands grasped the sides of her forehead. Ellie's eyes squinted, unsure if her sister was in deep thought or pain.

"How long is this gonna take?" Ellie repeated, her head dropping to the side to emphasize her distaste for the situation.

Piper winced as she opened her eyes. "I heard you for the first time, El."

"Yeah, but you didn't respond., so I had to make sure you were still alive," Ellie smirked.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you're giving me a headache."

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but Joel's thunderous voice from downstairs cut her off: "Thought I told you two to be quiet."

"Yeah, Ellie. Be quiet," Piper smirked.

"You motherfu-" Ellie spat back.

"Hey!" Joel reprimanded. Florence began giggling to herself in the armchair she sat in. At the sound of her laughter, the girls grew quiet.

Suddenly, Florence's laughter died down. "He's home."

Ellie sat up straighter and nudged Piper with her foot. The two girls listened as Joel crept into the back room for the element of surprise. It wasn't long after that the door swung open. Heavy footsteps clanked against the cabin floor.

It was hard to see from the balcony. Ellie silently cursed, wanting to see what was going on below. Her curiosity peaked when she heard Joel speak, cocking his gun.

"-And the gun," Joel instructed.

"Who the hell are you?" The man defensively said. Ellie silently fussed at the inability to see without giving away her position. Piper couldn't care less about what happened downstairs as long as Joel didn't bite the dust.

"Just someone passin' through," Joel said. "Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach."

The man did as Joel instructed with a calm expression. He looked at his wife. "Why didn't you shoot him?"

Florence shrugged and motioned to where the gun sat in the corner of the room. "The gun's all the way over there. He didn't hurt me, by the way."

"Yeah, I got eyes," he replied. He caught sight of the table where three empty bowls lay. "You made him soup?"

"Yeah, I did. It's cold out," Florence replied.

Joel glanced between the two. They were conversing as if he wasn't there holding a gun to the two of them. "I'm lookin' for my brother," Joel interjected.

He looked Joel up and down and scoffed. "Well, I ain't seen him," he responded.

"I haven't told you what he looks like," Joel noted.

"He look anything like you?"

Joel shrugged, "A bit."

The man took off his coat and hung it up on the coat hanger. "Then I ain't seen him," he responds.

Florence smiled as she chimed in. "He's got two girls with him….” She said it like it was the biggest gossip she heard in twenty years.

"Can we come down?" Ellie asked, knowing Joel couldn't berate her for speaking up when Florence had exposed their presence. Besides, she had grown too stir crazy to keep sitting up there. Without hearing Joel's response, she jumped to the stairs and made her way down. Piper was slow to follow.

"No," Joel groaned into his hand. "Ellie! Piper!"

"Ooh-wa," Florence's husband chuckled. Florence began to giggle as well.

The girls stared at the man. He was old, just like his wife, but they weren't scrawny like most people. They were well fed, their skin a dark copper and dark hair to compliment it as well. If the world wasn't what it was, the girls might even consider the two to be normal. They might have been before the outbreak, but now they just seemed crazy with their nonchalant expressions.

"What did I just say?" Joel scolded the girls.

"Hey, I just came down 'cause she did," Piper explained.

Ellie sighed. "Joel, come on. They're, like, a thousand."

"Who are these little psychos?" The man asked.

Piper shot him a look. "I'm not little."

"But you are psycho," Ellie quipped. Piper elbowed her for the comment.

Joel rolled his eyes. "Never mind them," Joel told him.

"Who’s the bigger psycho?" The man asked with a grin on his face.

Piper and Ellie were rearing to get the first say when Joel announced loudly over them, "I need you to tell us where we are." He placed a wrinkled map on the table and pointed to it.

"If you got a map, why you lost?"

Ellie's face scrunched. " Must've missed all the street signs in the enormous fսcking forest," she hissed.

"Ho-ly," the man laughed.

Joel continued on. "We're somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife's."

The man halted his laughter and looked at his wife. "Did you tell him the truth?"

She calmly rocked back and forth in her chair. "Yeah."

"Are you tellin' me the truth?"

Florence nodded, "Yeah." Her husband sighed and pointed to the location on the map.

Joel's jaw tensed. "Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess."

"Hide?" the man chuckled. " I came here before you were born, Sonny. Get the hell away from everybody."

"I didn't want to," Florence noted. Piper stifled a snort. The couple strangely amused her.

"Eh. Listen, I didn't mean to upset you about your brother," the man comforted, "but if you've come this far, then you know what's out there. You seen Cody?"

"Yeah, got close enough." Ellie shivered. "It's crawling with Infected."

The man nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can't go there no more."

"So you haven't heard the name Tommy?" Joel asked the man.

"Nope."

"What about the Fireflies?" Ellie piped up.

Florence smiled fondly, "We get those in the summer."

Piper sighed, "Not the bugs, the people."

"There are firefly people?" Florence asked. Then, she and her husband began to laugh again.

Joel was getting fed up with their laid-back attitude. "You got any advice on the best way west?"

"Yeah," the man said. "Go east. But you never go past the river here. Ever."

"What's past the river?" Piper questioned.

Florence glanced over at Piper; her face grew cold. "Death. We never see who's out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not." Piper looked away. Something about the woman's stare sent chills down her spine. Florence turned to Joel. "If your brother's west of the river, he's gone."

Ellie scoffed as she crossed her arms across her chest. "You're not going to scare us," she says.

"Scared them," Florence corrected, motioning to Joel and Piper. Her husband laughed.

"Thanks for the soup," Piper muttered, hoping to change the newfound tension in the air. "It was delicious."

The rocking from the chair stopped as Florence replied, "No problem."

Without paying much more attention to Florence and her husband, Joel turned to the girls. His gun lowered. "Let’s go," Joel uttered.

Piper and Ellie shuffled around the cabin to follow Joel out the door. The cool winter air burned their cheeks as blood rushed to the surface to try and regulate their internal temperature. It was no use, but they were used to it by now. The relentless cold always nipped at their ears, cheeks, fingers, and toes. Even so, the girls shivered, their bodies craving the warmth from inside the cabin.

Ellie pulled her hat down hoping to drown her ears in the thick cotton. "You don't seriously believe them," Ellie joked, noticing Piper and Joel's abrupt silence once the cabin door closed.

Joel's feet trekked through the snow away from the cabin, not daring to look back. He wouldn't dare let himself miss the hospitality, the warmth, and the humanity of Florence's home. He didn't want to think about how comforting the sight of Piper and Ellie felt in a proper home with food. How he wished it could have been their home. No, Joel wouldn't think of that. He shouldn't. "They've lived here a long time," Joel responded, looking back at Ellie, whose hands were now full of rabbits. She had a gleeful smile on her face. "Put that back," Joel hissed.

"They'll be fine. Right, Piper?" Ellie nudged her sister, who still remained silent.

Ellie's weak forceful nudge nearly knocked Piper off her feet and into the cold, wet snow. The only response Ellie got was a warning glare from her sister.

"Sheesh,' Ellie shuddered as she placed back the rabbits. She began to mumble to herself. "They don't know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies. Bet they never knew about the outbreak when it first happened…"

"Ellie," Piper suddenly exclaimed, drawing her sister out of her disbelief.

It was strange. Joel had stopped walking. His hand tightly gripped the fence. His leather gloves creaked from the strain. Ellie quickly observed his rigid shoulders as they strained to go up and down.

"Joel?!" Piper's lips trembled. Her hands floated above Joel's back, and she was unsure if it was okay to touch him. The reflection of the snow illuminated the worry in her eyes.

Ellie darted beside Joel. His breathing was only getting harsher. "Joel? Joel? Joel, are you okay? Joel?!"

Piper shared a fearfully concerned glance with her sister. "Joel?! Come on, Joel, this isn't funny-"

"Shut up." The sound of Joel's voice silenced the girls. Joel clutched his chest right above his beating heart.

Ellie didn't miss the gesture of pain. "Holy shit, are you dying?"

"No, he's not. He's -Joel, you better fucking not die," Piper demanded. Panic was evident in her voice.

Joel withdrew his hand from his chest and waved it in the air in an attempt to soothe the girls' anxiety. "I'm okay," he said.

"Okay, are you okay?" Ellie asked.

"I'm fine," Joel hissed, not wanting the worry the girls had.

His tone only seemed to spur Ellie's increasing uneasiness. She stepped closer to Joel, who winced, feeling her shaking breath in his face. "No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you're dead, we’re fսckеd."

"Ellie, give him some space!" Piper tried to yank Ellie back, but it was to no avail.

"No, the fucker’s dying on us."

Piper opened her mouth to respond when Joel's thick voice cut her off. "I said I'm fine."

The commanding tone repressed their paranoia but did little to subdue their concern. "Okay," they muttered in response.

"It's just the… cold air all of a sudden," Joel tried to reassure them.

Piper nodded, seeing right through Joel. It was something she had begun to pick up on all her time around the man. His little habits and tells. That's what happens when people go through hell and back together; some unspeakable bond grows. She hated to admit she had gotten accustomed to Joel's presence. She hated how she'd gotten lazy and dependent, a little less like a survivor and more like a, well, someone who was allowed to live. Almost. Piper wouldn't let herself get comfortable. She wouldn't grow attached. She wouldn't let Joel in, at least, not more so than he already had.

"All right, uh… so let's go and find Tommy and the Fireflies," Ellie said before marching through the snow.

"It's gonna be easy. All we have to do is cross the River of Death," Ellie sarcastically said as she got close to Piper's face. Piper rolled her eyes and shoved her sister. It made Ellie snicker.

Piper watched Joel continue to cling to the fence pole. She despised how her heart constricted at his hidden pain. What was worse was how her mind wildly pursued the question of the absence of Joel. It was an answer she never wanted to find. Maybe it was too late for Piper. Maybe Joel meant a bit more to her than she'd like. Reluctantly, Piper left Joel, her pace fast as she caught up with Ellie.

Joel watched both of them stomp through the snow. The shiny leather of Ellie's boots glistened under the winter sun, unlike Piper's worn and wilting boots, which repelled the sunlight. He glanced down at his own boots. It was a repulsing sight. The darkened soles were peeling along the edges, and the leather was frayed. They wouldn't last long. Joel just hoped they'd keep out the snow and ice for a little while longer.

꧁_꧂

Evening light trickled into the water. The water reflected the light as if it were made of diamonds. Accompanying the burst of opalescent colors was the thunderous sound water rushing past. The noise was deafening to Piper's ears. If it weren't for how close she huddled next to Ellie she wouldn't have heard the satirical comment she had made.

"The River of Death. Scary." Ellie turned away with a smile on her face. Piper and Joel peered over their shoulders at her, bearing the same annoyed expression. Ellie wasn't going to give up the bit. She was having too much fun.

"Don't start," Joel sighed.

Ellie giggled. The sound was infectious as it eased Piper's face into a soft smile.

"It's too close to dark," Joel noted. "There's some caves along the river. We'll set up camp there, cross in the morning'."

"Good. I'm starving," Piper added. Her stomach rumbled.

"Should've stolen two rabbits," Ellie mumbled.

"We can get our own rabbits," Joel said. His hands grazed his hips as they trekked further along.

Ellie practically jumped in front of him. "You gonna teach me how?" She beamed up at Joel.

Piper awaited Joel's response, even more so than Ellie. She had never learned how to hunt. There was never really the need back in the QZ. Even if it wasn't plentiful, food was always provided to her and Ellie. She knew the basics behind it: take a gun or trap, shoot, skin or prep, and eat. However, there was something foreign about hunting animals. All she'd ever shot were Infected people. Piper was a killer. She wondered if she could ever be a hunter or if she was forever cursed to kill.

"Just keep movin'," was all Joel said. Ellie sighed in disappointment.

Finding a suitable cave for the night hadn't taken them long. It was large enough to provide them shelter but not deep enough to house anything deadly. Joel had gotten busy building a fire. He had sent the girls off to get firewood a while ago, which they had done, but they had been absent since then.

The fire crackled, its flames dancing around as the smoke rose into the night sky like a prayer for all to see. They were so far out from any civilization that Joel wasn't too worried about the smoke. Even so, he kept his gun beside him, his hand on the barrel.

Joel watched the fire. His eyes froze over as they became entranced with the flames. His eyes dared to follow the smoke as it merged with the night sky above. That's when he spotted his girl's tattered coats. Joel frowned. The girls, he corrected himself. They weren't his. They were cargo, and that's all they would ever be. It was a delusion he hoped would become a reality so long as he kept saying it. The girls. His eyes focused on them as they gazed up at the night sky. He could see the awe in their eyes. They seemed at ease as the stars twinkled above them.

How long has it been since Joel looked up? He could recall a time when he'd watch the stars with Sarah. He refused to spare them a glance, knowing she was in the heavens alongside the stars. Yet, he found himself looking up. If his girls were watching, he wanted to watch them together.

His girls. The girls. The girls. THE GIRLS.

A clear whistle escaped Joel's cracked lips. His fingers fell as Piper and Ellie peered at him from the boulder. "Come down from there. You're gonna break your neck," Joel instructed.

He watched as the girls grunted slowly, descending the rock. Their feet hit the ground, and slowly, they crept to a seat by the fire. They welcomed the heat as it warmed them to their bones and fought back the deadly chill of the night. Piper sniffled and shivered, inching her body closer to the fire.

Meanwhile, Joel leaned back against a log. His body ached from all the use and travel. He was getting too old for him. Just like his tattered boots, he felt like he was falling apart. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out some duct tape and taped his boots. With his teeth, he cut the tape and put the finishing touches on his makeshift repair. Immediately after, he replaced the tape for his flask, taking a swig.

"Ahh…," Ellie muttered,, noticing the flask. "Can I have some?"

"No," Joel and Piper said.

Ellie began to wonder if they were the same person. "What? Just to warm up. C'mon," she begged, flashing her puppy eyes. Joel sighed, caving to Ellie's demands. She eagerly snatched the flask from Joel and took a sip. Her face scrunched up with disgust as she fought not to spit out the liquid. "Yep… still gross," she coughed. Her arm reached forward to hand it back to Joel when Piper intercepted.

"Give me," Piper said. Joel gave her a look, and Piper rolled her eyes. "What? If Ellie got a sip, why can’t I?" Again, Joel caved, and Piper took the flask. She unscrewed the lid and gulped down a sip with an expression of familiarity. It was an expression that drew fascination from her sister and concern from Joel. Piper tossed the flask back to Joel, the weight of which felt heavy in his hands.

"So, I've been thinking," Ellie began. "Let's say we find the Fireflies; it all works. They draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines to make a cure."

"Okay?" Joel said.

"Then what?" Ellie pondered. Joel flashed her a look of confusion. "Like, what do we do?"

His heart clenched and a thought of elation filled his mind. His girls. Internally, he shook his head. The girls, he corrected his thoughts. "Oh, it's we?"

Ellie covered the frown threatening to appear on her face. "Okay, fine. Whatever. You. You can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?"

Joel shrugged as he fiddled with the flask. "It's never been an option." Clearing his throat, he continued, "Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch."

"Cool. What kind?" Ellie asked.

Joel's brows furrowed in thought before he responded, "Sheep. I would raise sheep. Sheep. They're quiet… do what they're told."

Ellie and Piper snickered, taking the hint. "Yeah, yeah. Okay," Ellie repeated, "So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic."

Joel sat up, placing the flask away. "And what about you two? Where are you gonna go?"

"Don’t know," Piper replied. She had always gone where Ellie went. They were always together; as long as Piper had Ellie, she'd be fine. As long it was the three-two of them. Using her elbow, she nudged her sister. "Ellie?"

Ellie gazed up at the sky as she answered. "It's probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there's the ocean, and ahead of you, there's a wall. Nowhere else to look but up." Joel couldn't help but follow her gaze. The stars waltzed between the dark blues and blacks of the night sky. "I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?"

"Sally Ride," Joel and Piper say instinctively.

Ellie beamed at their answer. "Sally fսckin' Ride! Best astronaut name ever." The fire cracked loudly, leaving a deafening silence of if: If the cure worked. If life could ever return to normal. Ellie wasn't even really sure what normal was supposed to be. The closest she'd ever gotten to it was watching Florence and her husband. "It'll work, right?" Her voice was quiet and unsure as she spoke. "The vaccine?"

"It's a little late to start wonderin'," Joel stated.

"I tried," Ellie blurted. "…with Sam and…" Her gaze traveled over to her sister's arm where she had been bitten. It hadn't worked with Sam, but she had saved Piper. Ellie was sure of it. Her blood was the cure. She gave up every single drop if it meant that she could save what was left of her world. This cruel world, the Infected, the fungus, had taken everything from her: Her mom, Riley, Tess, Sam, and Henry. She refused to let that list have the names "Piper" and "Joel" written on it.

"Tried what?" Joel wondered.

"I knew he was infected,” Ellie admitted. "I rubbed some of my blood into his bite." Ellie could feel the stares Joel and Piper were giving her. She didn't dare look at them. "I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him." She couldn't save Sam, but she would save everyone else.

"Well, I reckon it's a lot more complicated than that," Joel admitted. "Marlene, she's a lotta things, but… she's no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it."

Ellie absently nodded at Joel's words. She was gonna save the world. Then she'd never have to lose anyone again. She wouldn't be alone.

On the other hand, Piper's mind began contemplating what Joel had said. The word "complicated" echoed in her head. She couldn't help but wonder what Marlene really had in store for her and Ellie. "You wanna take first watch or second?" Piper sighed, knowing her paranoid thoughts about what the cure entailed would get her nowhere.

"I'll do both," Joel told them, sitting up straighter and bringing his gun into his lap.

"Joel…," Piper pleaded with the memory of Joel clutching onto the fence like a lifeline still in his mind.

He brushed her off as he stood up. "Get some sleep. Dream of…," Joel smiled as he looked down at his girls. He'd let his delusions go for one night. "…sheep ranches on the moon."

"I will," Ellie smiled back up at him. Piper sat silent.

"That includes you, Piper. Get to bed," Joel said.

Piper sighed and looked deep into the firelight. "I’m not tired just yet."

Reluctantly, Joel turned away from the fire and his girls stepped into the cold winter night doing his round of patrol, leaving the girls to doze off by the fire side with each crunch of the snow beneath his feet. By the time he returned, Ellie was quietly snoring into her shoulder. Her small body cuddled close to Piper, whose arm was wrapped around her sister.

Joel resumed his seat by the fire. His joints flared as the heat of the fire slowly sank back into them. "Thought I told you to get to bed."

"Thought I told you I wasn't tired," Piper spat back.

Joel's eyes widened. "Look, Kid. You need the sleep more than I do."

Piper sniffled and wiped her nose drawing her legs closer to her body. "You sure about that?"

Joel looked away, finding his tongue trapped in his throat. Instead he found words for something else. "What's your dream?" Piper flashed Joel a confused look. "You never answered what you would do if it all worked out."

Piper bit her lip, her eyes fell down on Ellie's sleeping figure. "All I've ever…Have you ever thought you were cursed?" Joel shook his head. "I think I'm cursed. Actually, I know I am," Piper scoffed.

"Cursed?" Joel questioned.

"To kill." Piper pulled her arm away from Ellie and stared at her shaking hands. In the light of the fire, they only grew more red, A dark red that seemed to seep underneath her skin. She shuddered. "It's all I was used to in the QZ. It's all I've known." She couldn't bear to look at her hands any longer, instead resorted to shoving them under her legs. "I'm cursed to kill when all I want is to save…but I can't." her voice caught in her throat. "I can only save Ellie. She's all that matters. So, as long as I can do that, I'll be fine."

"Kid," Joel paused. "Piper." The sound of her name drew her attention. "You are more than a sister. You can want something for yourself that is outside of Ellie."

Piper scoffed. "Says you. You've been on and on about Tommy. What about you then? What is your dream outside of Tommy?"

"I-" Joel began to refute Piper's words, but something stopped him. She was right. He'd started this whole thing for Tommy: picked up the girls, lost Tess, danced with death, saw the impossible, and all for someone who could be dead. Piper and him were one in the same. As long as their family was safe and happy, so would they be. But as Joel really pondered her question, the dream of the farm came back into mind. The farm with the quiet sheep, the peaceful life. Except now, this dream had room for more, yet Joel wasn't sure if there was room for his girls in the first place.

"It's getting late," Joel remarked,,, standing up again to watch. This time, Piper didn't refuse sleep. Instead, she let the silence close in on her as the warmth of the fire cascaded over her body. The only sign of life was the slow rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm to which Joel stepped as he guarded his girls from the looming horrors of the night.

꧁_꧂

"Should we wake him up?" Ellie asked, craning her neck up to look at the boulder's ledge. The morning sun shone brightly in her eyes, painting Piper's figure as a shadow.

Piper was standing tall on the boulder with her gun in hand. Her dark eyes surveyed the area before glancing down at Ellie and shaking her head. "Nah, he'll wake up on his own. Besides, the man needs his beauty sleep." She quietly chuckled to herself.

Ellie shrugged and peered down at Joel, who was sleeping on the ground close to her. She watched as his brows furrowed and his forehead creased. She stepped closer to Joel, now hearing the incoherent mumblings that spilled from his mouth.

The sound of the earth crunching beneath Ellie's feet stirred Joel awake. He sat up with a hiss of air as his hands fumbled for his rifle.

"Still mumbling in your sleep," Ellie said. Joel looked up at her and noticed his gun in her hands. "I woke up early. You were passed out, so I took second watch."

Joel frowned.

"I helped!" Piper announced from atop the boulder. Her eyes winced from the sound of her own voice, intensifying the pounding in her head.

His eyes followed the sound of Piper's voice. The harsh sunlight invaded his senses as he tried to look up at her. "You gotta wake me up if that happens. And get down from there!" He scolded the girls.

"Piper told me not to," Ellie defended.

With a huff, Piper hopped down from the rock. "You need sleep too, Joel."

Joel rolled his eyes and snatched his gun away from Ellie. "You girls can't do things like this," he told them.

"But I can…," Ellie noted. "…'cause I just did."

It was much too early in the morning for Joel to be dealing with this already. A heavy sigh escaped his chest. "I'm responsible for you too, okay?" He looked between the girls.

Ellie shrugged. "Then don't fall asleep." Joel opened his mouth to refute her words again. However, Ellie did what she did best and continued to talk. "I was quiet. I checked my six. I looked for tracks. I found the high ground, and I kept watch. Like you taught me to," Ellie explained.

Joel bore a skeptical look on his face. "She did," Piper disclosed. "I checked."

"What can I say, man? I'm a natural." Ellie flashed Joel a smug smile. Piper gave a smile of her own.

The longer he looked at them, the harder it was to reprimand them. "Uh-huh. You wake me up next time," Joel instructed.

"Yes, sir. attention!" Ellie joked,, raising her hand to her head. Piper followed suit, stifling her snickers, and Joel couldn't help the smile that leaked onto his face.

"Alright, grab your stuff, and let's go." Joel motioned to their packs on the ground. The girls silently groaned as they shuffled to retrieve their things, knowing only more walking was ahead of them.

꧁_꧂

It was supposed to be pitch black in Ellie's and Piper's shared room. After all, it had been hours since the “lights out” signal, but even so, there was a faint glow seeping out from the walls-glow in the dark stars. It had been a gift from Levi. He had told Piper that he'd found them one day and thought she might like them. With a grin on her face, she took them to Ellie, and together, they put them on the walls and ceiling of their room.

Magic was how Ellie described it, and Piper couldn't think of a better word as the two would gaze upon their own personal stars. Some nights, Piper would even make a wish right as her eyes, filled with too much sleep, couldn't bear to look at them any longer. She'd wish for things like a real family and a home. Somewhere out of the QZ. Somewhere free, maybe some animals too. She'd always loved animals, but their presence was almost non-existent.

However, tonight, as Piper trickled into the room after hours, she didn't want to wish on the stars. She didn't want to even look towards their light. All she wanted to do was tear them down. Her feet slowly dragged on the hardwood floors over to the nearest star. Raising her hand, she yanked it down. It felt so good hearing the snap of the adhesive as the force pulled them to the ground, darkening their light. She pulled another and another with no care for the red marks she left on the wall. She kept pulling and pulling until she heard Ellie's bed creak.

"Pipe?" Ellie croaked. Her voice crackled from the cold. Piper winced. A blanket. She was supposed to grab another blanket for Ellie. Their room was freezing, and the cold, she knew, could be deadly at night.

"Yeah?" Piper replied.

"Why are you taking down our stars?"

Piper grew so quiet that Ellie wasn't even sure she heard her sister breathing. "It's late, Els. Why are you up?"

Ellie shuffled in the bed. Piper could hear the sheets shake with her shivers. "I was scared. You have left."

"I'm here now. Just go back to bed."

Ellie sat up and reached for a book underneath her pillow. She held it out to Piper, who knew exactly what book it was. "Can you read to me?" Ellie pleaded.

Piper sighed and nodded. She stepped forward to grab the book when the red on her hands became apparent. Even in the dark, the red seemed to be even darker. She could see it all covering her entire body. Slowly, she recoiled from Ellie and changed; Using her soiled clothes to wipe away as much as possible from her face and hands. Eventually, she returned to Ellie, freshly changed. She took the book in her hand and, with the other, tugged her own blanket off her bed and climbed into Ellie's. Piper took extra care to lay the second blanket on top before opening the book.

She had read it so often that there was hardly a need for a light to see the words. As she began to recite the myths and tales of the stars, Piper began to like the dark, to find comfort in the night. The more she whispered to Ellie the tragedies of the gods that put them in the sky, the more she began to be repulsed by the starlight. It made her sick to her stomach, but Ellie loved them. Ellie loved the sky, the stars, and what lay beyond. So, Piper told herself she would like them too. But for tonight, all she wanted to do was loathe them, and only for tonight she would. Why would she want to look for the light when she found comfort in being lost in the darkness?

꧁_꧂

The pounding in Piper's head was getting worse the more Ellie fiddled with her mouth and fingers. Ellie was trying to whistle, but it came out as whimpering shrieks that only added to Piper's pain. Piper sent her sister a glare, not trusting herself enough to be civil with words.

"What?" Ellie responded. "I'm learning how to whistle."

Joel peeked over his shoulder at Ellie. "You don't know how to whistle?"

Ellie huffed and let her hands fall at her side. "Does it sound like I know how to whistle?"

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head.

After a few more failed attempts, Ellie sighed. "Seriously, though, how the fսck do you do that?"

"Talent," Joel shrugged.

Rolling her eyes, Ellie replied, "Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt."

"Huh," was all Joel could say in response.

"Huh," Ellie repeated in a deep voice, mocking Joel. "Like, she's a girl. She can't handle it."

Joel stopped in his tracks and turned around. "You can handle the shootin'. Not so sure about the dressin'," he sighed.

Ellie's brows furrowed. "What's the dressin'?"

"Isn't that the part where you take the guts out," Piper added.

"Oh, yeah," Ellie's eyes widened. "Why do they call it dressing? It's like, you should call it undressing 'cause it is. It's like… undressing from the inside. Still interested, though."

Soon, it became too loud for any of them to hear what Ellie had been saying. Tons and tons of water rushed out of a dam and crashed on the rocks below. The water flashed shades of green and yellow as the sun darted from behind the clouds. The three of them all stopped to wonder in the presence of the water. The sound was deafening, and any thoughts they had in their heads were drowned out.

"Dam," Ellie enunciated. She placed her hand on her hips and flashed a smug grin to Joel and Piper.

"You're no Will Livingston," Piper chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, but who is?" Ellie playfully shrugged before turning to Joel. "So that made electricity?" She asked him.

"Yeah," Joel nodded. He caught sight of another question brewing in her eyes. "Don't ask me. I don't have a clue."

"You know, you could've just made something up," Ellie noted. "I would've believed you," she said as they turned away from the dam.

Piper chuckled. "True," she pointed out. "Like that time I told you how the baby got into the lady's stomach."

Ellie gasped. "That was a lie?"

"And you still believed it?" Piper snickered, "Thought they covered that in the QZ at some point." She playfully shoved Ellie's shoulder, almost knocking her into the snow.

"Hey!" Ellie yelled, regaining balance to return the favor to Piper. Piper gasped as she hit the freezing cold snow.

Piper hastily stood up, brushing off the pale snow from her clothes and grumbling to herself about the cold and hygiene.

"Pshh," Ellie chuckled, sending her sister a teasing look. Following her sister's rising frame, Ellie caught sight of the vast blue water. Her eyes bulged as she stumbled forward for a better look. "Look at that river. It's crazy blue!" She pointed as Joel and Piper huddled around her.

Piper glanced around. Nervousness escaped her eyes and seeped into her voice. "Hey, Joel… what if this is the River of Death?"

Joel hurriedly yanked out the map and flipped it around. His feet turned in circles as his mind desperately confirmed his fears.

A sharp chorus of neighs and pounding footsteps appeared over the hill. Riders, horses, and dogs charged towards them one by one.

"Joel!" Piper cried out, stepping back towards the water and away from the approaching mass.

"Get behind me," Joel instructed the girls. Ellie and Piper wasted no time hiding behind Joel's large figure. When the horses arrived, the girl's knuckles had turned white. "We ain't lookin' for any trouble. We're just passin' through," Joel announced to the riders.

The rider in front motioned with his gun. "Drop the gun," he told Joel, who quickly complied. Then the man pointed to Piper and Ellie. "You two… take five steps back."

Piper gulped as she fought to hold back the growing fear. Ellie wasn't doing much better, her fear echoing in her shaking eyes.

"How 'bout we just talk this through?" Joel asked, raising his hands.

"How 'bout you shut the fսck up?" One of the other riders bellowed.

"Okay, easy," Joel said before looking back at the girls. The brief glances he gave them eased some of the building anxiety. Something about Joel's dark eyes helped Piper feel safe. Whether she liked it or not, Piper trusted Joel. "You'll be okay," Joel comforted.

As the girls stepped back, the rider in front asked, "You been near Infected?"

"There's no Infected out here," Joel responded.

"The hell there ain't," Another one grumbled.

Suddenly, the front man hopped down from his horse and whistled. It was loud and clear before everything went silent. Instantly, the sounds of a vicious barking ripped through the air.

"Last chance for a bullet," the man warned. "If you've been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up."

At that moment, as the deadly sharp teeth of the dog shimmered in the sun, Ellie wished she was holding Piper's hand. She was scared. She had been bit, and so had Piper. They were immune, but if the dog smelt anything, they'd be dead. She’d be dead before she could save anyone. She'd-

"Like I said… we'll just move on," Joel stated as the dog approached him. The animal sniffed before placing its paws gently on his torso. Joel was clean.

"Now her," the man said, pointing to Ellie. Joel's ears felt on fire as he listened to each sniffle and huff of the dog. His heart clenched and he soon found it hard to breathe. Just as fast as he was cleared, so was Ellie. The sound of her giggles as the dog playfully licked her face, eased some of the tension in Joel's body. However, they weren't clear yet.

"Last one," the rider said, pulling the dog away from Ellie.

Joel dared, looking behind at Piper. Her face showed no uncertainty as the dog approached growling. Despite her fearless appearance, Joel saw the terror in her eyes. It was the same look she had that night in the motel. The same look she bore when she asked him to kill her and make that horrifying promise to her. Now, he wished he hadn't looked, but even so, Joel couldn't look away. Not until both of his girls were alright.

The dog had begun its search. Piper's hands were wet and warm as her nails cut through the feeble gloves and into her skin. Her eyes clenched shut from the pain. Each sniffle was a reminder that her own breath could be her last. Ellie was cleared, and so should Piper. No matter how much she kept telling herself that, Piper knew she was different. The way those Infected ignored her as if she was one of them. Piper prepared for the worst but prayed for the best. Prayed that maybe Joel could save her if the dog went for her throat. Maybe they could hold off this huge group. Maybe-

A comforting weight was placed on her chest, and her cheeks burned from the dog's wet kisses. Light flooded her view, and Piper looked down and smiled. She was safe.

The man whistled, and the dog propelled itself off Piper. "You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin' out here?" The man interrogated.

Joel stepped back near the girls and answered. "I'm just lookin' for my brother. That's all, nothing' more."

A voice from the back shot over the crowd. Pulling her horse forward, a woman approached Joel and the girls. "What's your name?"

"Joel," he replied.

The woman's eyes widened. She began telling some of the riders to grab horses for the three of them.

"You're gonna wanna come with us," she said. "I'm Maria, by the way."

The three of them shared confused looks as they were placed on horses. Piper sat behind Ellie on a large tan stead. The horse neighed as Ellie curiously reached forward to pet its mane. Joel was placed on a dark brown horse. Once they were settled, the group moved forward and the horses trotted along carrying them away to wherever Marlene was taking them.

꧁_꧂

Maria spoke little of their destination, but even with the little she said, she convinced Joel. If Joel was convinced, so were the girls. It wasn't until they saw the looming metallic and wooden walls that they knew they were entering a settlement. The sight of the walls did little to put Piper at ease. She knew once she entered their confines that it'd be hard to leave. She just hoped Joel knew how to get them out if needed.

The gates to the community opened with a screech, and the horses carried them deeper into the town. With each prance, the more uneasy Ellie and Piper felt. People walked along the roadside chatting and laughing. Kids played in a playground, teasing each other before finding a snowball headed towards their faces. Groups all around worked together, all with determined smiles on their faces. Everything was normal until the group pranced further down the road. Their smiles would falter and would be replaced with curious and confused stares.

The girls didn't know what they hated more, the cheerful and carefree smiles or the curious stares. All the eyes on them made Ellie and Piper feel as if they were monkeys in a zoo. Made to be observed and ogled at. Piper felt particularly on edge when a group of young children stopped and whispered while pointing at her and Ellie. After sending them a curt middle finger, the children gasped or fled in fear. An emotion that made Piper and Ellie feel a bit more at ease.

Soon, the horse slowed and came to a halt. Piper peered over Ellie's shoulder and saw Maria motion to Joel and point to a group of people fixing up a building. Joel's eyes squinted before expanding with an expression that Piper had never seen from him before. At first, she thought it was relief or hope, but she knew her assumptions were wrong; the second, Joel jumped off his horse and called his brother's name. It was love.

Ellie and Piper watched as Joel ran toward Tommy and enveloped him in a hug. His face beaming, a laugh of joy and disbelief escaped his lips. There was a pain in her chest at the sight of Joel and his brother. She felt sick as Joel became someone she didn't recognize. Turning her gaze away, she glanced at Ellie, whose head hung low, hiding her eyes, which felt the very same pain.

"It's okay," Piper whispered in her sister's ear. It was a lifeless comfort. Nothing Piper could say would ever ease the ache in both of their hearts. They were cargo. Tommy was family. The girls had to keep reminding themselves of that, even if their hearts were dreaming for something else.

It didn't take long for the joyous reunion to end. Everyone was ushered inside, and a hot meal was placed down in front of them. The ache in the girl's heart seemed to be never-ending, but the sight and scent of a decent meal helped distract from the hurt.

Before the steam from the plate could dissipate, the girl's plates had been practically cleared.

Maria sat beside Tommy, who watched in horror as Joel and the girls scarfed down their food. "There's more if you need it," Maria mentioned.

Joel looked up from his plate and noticed the hurried manner in which they had been eating. Slowly swallowing his food, he sat up straighter and adjusted how he held his fork. Clearing his throat, he began, "Thank you, ma'am. It's been a while since we've had a proper meal."

"Actually," Ellie said as she chewed another bite, "I don't think I've ever had a proper meal. This is fսckin' amazing."

Simultaneously, Piper took a bite and moaned, "Fuuck, that’s good."

Joel felt his cheeks grow red. "Sorry. Ellie, Piper…," the girls snapped their heads in his direction, cheeks stuffed with food. "…let's mind our manners."

Piper gulped. "Sorry," she quietly apologized.

Ellie, on the other hand, ignored Joel's words until Piper kicked her shin. Ellie sent her sister a glare when she noticed another figure looking at them from afar. It was a girl with dark hair and tan skin. She peeked around the corner and caught sight of Ellie's stare.

"What?!" Ellie yelled, scaring the girl away.

"What's wrong with you?" Joel hissed.

"What about her manners?" Ellie quipped back.

Maria calmly placed a hand on the table. "She was just curious. Kids around here don't usually look or talk like you."

"Right… well, maybe Piper and I’ll teach them," Ellie muttered before taking another bite.

Joel sighed and gave Maria and Tommy an apologetic look.

"I want my gun back," Piper said, looking up at Tommy and Maria.

"Kids here also aren't armed," Maria noted.

Piper scoffed. "But what if-"

"Then the adults step in," Maria responded. "Kids deserve to be kids."

Maria's comment made Piper scoff once again. She placed down her fork and stared at the woman. "So what?" Piper spat, "You think I'm just gonna let some fucker-"

"Piper," Joel reprimanded, sending her a glare that was returned by the rolling of her eyes.

Tommy sat up in his chair. His eyes darted between Joel and Piper. "You know what? Uh…" Tommy muttered. "I think maybe y'all got a little off on the wrong foot."

Piper snickered and pointed at Maria. "She was gonna have her guys kill us."

"Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place," Tommy explained. "But it's all bark. We're just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us."

"Well, you got a couple of 90-year-olds shitting themselves out there," Ellie added.

"Ellie," Joel cautioned.

"What?" Ellie hissed.

"They say that you leave dead bodies around," Piper said, staring down at Maria.

"Those are the people who tried us," Maria replied, leaning forward.

Tommy placed a hand on Maria's shoulder. "A bad reputation doesn't mean you're bad," he noted.

"Not always, at least," Maria said.

"Ma'am…," Joel began. "We're grateful for your hospitality and all. But it'd be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."

Tommy's eyes shifted to Maria and then his brother. "Well, um… Maria is family, actually,' Tommy corrected.

Ellie was the first to get Tommy's meaning. "Oh, shit! Congrats," she congratulated.

"Congrats," Piper begrudgingly muttered. Her glare at Maria softened. She looked to her right and noticed Joel's silence. "Joel, say congrats," Piper encouraged.

"Congrats," Joel mumbled, and a silence followed.

Feeling uneasy with how his brother was looking at him, Tommy stood up from his seat. "How 'bout a tour?"

꧁_꧂

The chilly winter air pinkened their cheeks and the tips of their ears as they emerged from the dining hall. Maria took the lead with Tommy in the back as they began the tour of the settlement.

"We settled here about seven years ago," Maria began. "Just a handful of us back then."

The girls looked around, acknowledging the street bordered with buildings of shapes and colors. Piper sniffled as the cold reached her nose. The sniffle was cut short in her throat, and it didn't take long for her lungs to heave. Stopping in her tracks, Piper keeled over and coughed.

The whole group stopped to look at her. She hated having their eyes glued to her. After all, it was just a simple cough. "Are you good? You look sick," Joel stated.

Forcing the cough away, Piper replied, "I’m not–I’m fine. I don’t get sick." She stood straight and stared at the group as if the look in her eye could wash away any doubt they had in her impeccable health.

Maria stepped forward and, in a gentle voice, spoke. "The doctor’s is just down the street, I can take y’all there to-"

"I said I’m fucking fine!" Piper spat.

"Piper," Joel hissed.

"What?" Piper said.

Taking a good look at her, Joel saw the signs: the pink nose, the recent headaches, the coughing. So, for the first time since Tommy made his announcement, Joel looked at Maria. "If you could show us to the doctor, that’d be great."

"Joel!" Piper whined, the sound of betrayal deeply ingrained in her voice.

"Pipes, come on," Ellie chimed in, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. "You've been coughing and grabbing your head for days now."

Piper took one swing and swatted Ellie's hand away. "Ellie, I swear to fuck–"

"I’ll take you after the tour," Maria loudly announced, silencing the rising argument. Turning over her shoulder, she picked the tour back up as if nothing ever happened. "That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still found pockets of them."

"And you said Infected?" Joel asked.

Tommy jogged up close to his brother and, leaning in, explained, "Yeah, but usually smaller colonies wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here… it's a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA." With a beam on his face, he continued. "Can headshot those fuckers from a half mile out."

Ellie's ears perked at the mention of Tommy's shooting. She glanced over at Joel and then back at Tommy, who was a lot more likable than the other. She thought to herself that maybe if Joel wasn't willing to teach her, then maybe Tommy might. "Can you teach me how?" She found herself wishfully asking.

Joel peered over his shoulder and glared. "No, he can't," he said, turning to Maria to propose another question: "How do you keep this place quiet?"

"Carefully," Maria said, "Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio. House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we've needed it."

"And you draw power from the dam?" Joel questioned.

"Got that workin' a couple years ago," Tommy mentioned. "After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights."

The girls shared a moment of awe, even if they did not display it on their faces. "This place actually fսckin' works," Ellie mumbled to herself.

Piper leaned close to her sister and whispered, "I know, right? Hey, look," Piper patted Ellie's shoulder and pointed to a herd of sheep. Their white, fluffy fur made them look like the clouds above. The girls strayed from the group and hopped onto the fence. "Hey Joel, check it out!" Piper smirked,, earning a chuckle from Ellie and an eye roll from Joel.

"So are you, like, in charge?" Ellie asked after jumping off the fence and returning to the tour group.

"No one person's in charge," Maria explained. "I'm on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, and harvesting. Everything you see in our town, including greenhouses and livestock, is shared. Collective ownership."

"So, uh, communism," Joel scoffed.

Tommy shook his head. "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that."

Maria chuckled and looked at her husband. "It is that. Literally." Tommy's face dropped as contemplation and confusion flooded his face. "This is a commune. We're communists."

Ellie and Piper shrugged, not sure what 'communism' was, and instead focused their attention on the stables nearby. In one of the stalls, a tiny head popped out causing Ellie to shriek and wipe away her detached expression. "No way!"

Maria smiled upon seeing the cause of Ellie's excitement. "That's our newest one. Couple of months old. You wanna pet her?" Maria motioned for Ellie to get closer.

Ellie didn't waste any time petting the small horse. "What's her name?" She softly asked.

"Shimmer," Maria replied.

"Shimmer," Ellie cooed. "You're so beautiful."

Upon noticing Piper's distance, Maria gently smiled at the girl. "You can pet her too," she said.

Piper shook her head and coughed. "No thanks," she said, trying to cover up the tension in her lungs.

Ellie reluctantly turned away from Shimmer and looked back at her sister. "You know, I’m starting to think you are sick."

"Fucking hell, Ellie," Piper growled. "You know I don’t get sick."

"Everyone gets sick," Maria assured Piper before turning to Tommy. "Well, I'm sure they'd like a shower and some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us."

Tommy nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. It's a decent place. Pretty much untouched since '03, but it's got the heat goin' in it. Could do worse."

"Oh," Ellie noted, "trust me, we have been."

"We've been doin' fine," Joel reiterated.

"Well," Maria said. I'll take Ellie over there and Piper to the doctor if you two want to catch up."

Piper's eyes widened, and she raised her shoulders in defense. "I’m not goi–"

"You’re going," Joel decided. Piper opened her mouth to refute but was shot down by the look in Joel's dark eyes.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded. "Okay."

"Joel," Ellie muttered, glancing over to Joel.

"You'll be fine," he reassured. "You both will be fine." Piper rolled her eyes and huffed as Joel and Tommy walked away, already beginning to talk amongst themselves.

"Shall we?" Maria asked.

"Uh, yeah," Ellie replied before looking at her sister.

"Fine," Piper grumbled.

Maria began to walk before peering over her shoulder at the girls. "I’ll take you to the Doctor first. It’s on the way," Maria said. "Doctor Watson is a nice man. Knows what he’s doing. You’re in good hands."

"I’m not–" Piper complained.

"-Sick," Maria finished. "I know. But let’s hear it from someone who knows."

꧁_꧂

Ellie had to shove Piper through the doctor's office doors. Maria couldn't help but chuckle to herself at the sight in front of her. While the two girls struggled, she easily stepped inside and greeted the young man sitting behind the desk.

"Hello, Charlie," she smiled. A head of dark curly hair looked up at the three of them. His black eyes darted between Maria and Piper, who was fighting off Ellie's attempts at manhandling her.

"Maria, to what do I owe the pleasure," Charlie asked once the front door loudly slammed shut.

"I’ve got a friend here who needs to see Doctor Watson," Maria spoke before pointing to Piper.

"I see," Charlie nodded. "We’ll take good care of her."

"I know you will," Maria agreed before turning to Piper. "Piper, I’ll be back in a while. I’m just taking Ellie to the house."

Piper's eyes widened, and she nervously looked over to her sister. "But–"

"Just to check," Maria reminded.

"Stop being such a baby, Pipes," Ellie chimed in.

"Fuck you," Piper whined in response as Ellie and Maria walked out the doors just as quickly as they had come in. With a huff, Piper spotted an empty seat and sat down, fiddling with her hands in an attempt to ignore the stares from the boy.

"Haven’t seen your face before," Charlie said as he peeked his head over the desk.

"Fuck off," Piper hissed.

"Yikes. She bites," chuckled Charlie. Deciding that his current viewpoint wasn't satisfactory, he stood up, leaned against the desk, and smiled cheerfully at Piper.

She hated that smile. She hated his bouncy, curly head of hair and his soft, dark eyes. They reminded her of Joel's. The very eyes she recently found herself finding comfort. "And who the fuck are you?" She questioned, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Charleston Brekker." He took out his hand for her to shake. Piper glared at his hand as if it had created the biggest offense in the history of the world. Awkwardly, Charlie withdrew his hand and placed it in his pants pocket. "But I go by Charlie. I’m the doc’s intern of sorts. He’s showing me the ropes and whatnot before he kicks the can."

"That’s a fucking mouthful," Piper mumbled. "And Brekker? More like a breaker."

Charlie nervously chuckled. "Haha, very funny. What’s your name?"

Piper scoffed, "As if I’d tell you."

Shrugging his shoulders, Charlie sighed. "Alright, Piper, thought I’d at least give you the chance to tell me yourself." He wanted to laugh at the look of disbelief on her face. "I heard Maria say it,' he explained.

"Fuck you."

Charlie glanced down at the ground fighting the urge to sigh again. To him, trying to make conversation with Piper was like trying to pet a wolf. "The Doctor is seeing someone else right now, should be out soon," he said.

"Whatever."

So far, Charlie has tried two potential conversation openers. Piper had shot down both of them. Luckily, Charlie had a plethora of backup plans. "Let me guess, you’re 8," Charlie guessed.

"Let me guess," Piper leered, "you don’t know how to shut your mouth. And I’m 17."

"We’re the same age," Charlie added. "And for the record, I don’t."

"I can tell." Piper took a good look at him. He had strong features adorning his face. Each sculpted part of his face framed his eyes. She hated those eyes. Why were they so kind and clear, free from the clouds and dirt that plagued hers? However, what she hated most was his smile. It reached the apples of his cheeks that turned a light pink each time he flashed her that smile. God, it was gross. Disgusting. She hat- Piper shook her head. She was thinking too much about his stupid face and stupid smile.

"So…have you–" Charlie began again before the sound of the backdoor creaked open.

"Just continue following my orders and you’ll be right as rain in no time," a man dressed in a white coat instructed an elderly woman. The two walked down the hallway and to the doors that Piper so desperately wanted to flee out of. "Charlie, who do we have here?" The man asked once the woman had vacated the area.

"Piper," Charlie said, earning a sharp glare from the girl. "She came in with Maria. Says she isn’t sick."

Doctor Watson nodded. His speckled gray hair bobbed up and down, and the wrinkles on his face creased as he turned to look at her. "I see. Piper, if you’ll come with me."

Taking one look at the doctor, Piper shook her head. "No," she stated.

Doctor Watson's eyes softened at her guarded demeanor. "I’m just going to ensure you’re healthy as you say you are."

Piper's eyes flickered to the backroom. In a quiet voice, she asked, "Do I have to go back there?"

Doctor Watson shook his head. "No, but it offers more privacy…I can leave the door open if that is what you prefer."

After a moment of contemplation, Piper agreed and begrudgingly walked to the backroom with the door open all the way.

꧁_꧂

Joel found himself at ease as he sank onto the barstool. His eyes watched as Tommy went behind the counter and pulled out some drinks for the two of them, pouring the liquid and dropping some ice cubes in the alcohol.

"Been a long time," Joel said. "Doesn't seem like you aged much."

"You, on the other hand," Tommy teased as he placed the drink before Joel. "Thanks for still giving a shit about me." Tommy's eyes expectantly watched as Joel raised the glass to his lips. Joel felt his taste buds light a fire with joy. "Workin' on raisin' some hogs, too," Tommy proudly said. "Once we get bacon, I mean, what's even left?"

"Pshoo," Joel laughed. "Christmas trees and bacon? Pretty decent setup."

"So, how's Tess?" Tommy inquired.

The cheerfulness in Joel's expression faltered. "She's fine. All right."

"Good then," Tommy nodded. "And the kids?"

Joel furrowed his brow until he realized Tommy was asking about his girls—the girls. "Oh, yeah," Joel explained, "They’re the daughters of some Firefly muckety-muck. I'm trying to find their family somewhere out here. I was headin' in this direction, so…"

Disbelief filled Tommy's face. "Really? Goodness of your heart?"

"There's a payment," Joel confessed. "So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?"

Tommy shrugged. "Well, they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It's, uh, a week's ride south. But…" Tommy noted. "It is severely fսckеd up between here and there. Infected… raiders. It's not exactly an easy trip."

"It'll be easy for us," Joel said, "seeing as how you can headshot Infected from half a mile away, which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way." He took another swig of his drink and sighed as the warm touch of the alcohol traveled down his throat and to the rest of his body.

"Yeah," Tommy quietly said. "I can't go."

"Oh, come on," Joel chuckled. "I made it across the country. The two of us can make it from here to Colorado." Tommy's expression hadn't changed. Joel sighed, "What, 'cause your wife won't let you?"

At the mention of Maria, Tommy's expression hardened. "Joel," Tommy warned.

"She the one who kept you off the radio?" Joel accused, and a flash of guilt grew on Tommy's face. "Is that why you stopped messaging me back?"

"After I ditched the Fireflies, Maria and her crew found me," Tommy explained. "They're good people. They didn't have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules."

"I'm your brother."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Tommy acknowledged. "They're very protective of this place, and for good fսckin' reason. I mean, folks find out we're up here…"

"No, I heard. Wrong people might show up," Joel retorted. "So, is that what I am? Am I the wrong people?"

"Joel…" Tommy sighed.

The drink in front of Joel had long been forgotten. Years of hurt bubbled up to the surface, too much for the alcohol to soak up. "Those things I did, Tommy," Joel defended, "those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive."

"We did those things. And they weren't "things," Tommy argued. "We murdered people. And I don't judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways. We just weren't any good at 'em."

"If you knew the shit that I've been through, Tommy." Joel's voice began to falter. "Tryin' to find you these last few months…"

"I'm gonna be a father," Tommy blurted, ending Joel's train of thought. "Maria's a few months along now. So I just gotta be more careful." With Joel's silence, Tommy continued. "To be honest, I'm scared to death. But I don't know. Uh… I feel like I'd be a good dad."

The drink in front of him was intoxicating now, so Joel picked it up and drank the rest. "Guess we'll find out."

"I guess we'll find out?" Tommy scoffed. "That's all you got?"

Joel shrugged, "What else am I supposed to say?"

Anger boiled up to the surface at Joel's response. "Just because life stopped for you…," Tommy said, "doesn't mean it has to stop for me."

Joel's teeth ground against each other, and his jaw began to hurt. "We'll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin'," Joel mumbled before hastily finding his way out of the bar.

꧁_꧂

Piper was indeed sick. She had been battling a cough and headache for days, yet the news stunned her. Her head tuned out the words of Doctor Watson as the realization hit her. She was sick. The doctor mentioned something about the common cold, but that did not matter. Piper was sick. For as long as she could remember she had never gotten sick. She couldn't. Being sick wasn't a choice for Piper, especially not after FEDRA put a gun in her hand. Yet here she was, sitting in Doctor Watson's office, sick.

"…luckily I have the right medication to help you feel better in no time," Doctor Watson continued and handed Piper a bottle of some pills. "You’ll take three of these each day. Take them with meals. And continue to take them until your cough is gone. And stay out of the cold. Any questions?" Piper shook her head, not realizing he was asking her a question. "Good. Another thing is to keep those hands bandaged and clean. You don't want an infection…"

Glancing down at her hands, she gently trailed her fingers over the white bandages. Doctor Watson had noticed the blood and scabs from where her nails had dug into her palms.

Finally, her ears had caught up with the doctor's words. "Wait, actually…"

Doctor Watson gave her his best bedside smile. "Yes?"

"Can I ask something that’s not related to my cough?" Piper wondered.

"Of course," the doctor replied.

"Hypothetically," Piper began, "if someone were immune to the fungus. You know, the one that turns you into an infe–"

The Doctor's brows raised but allowed her to continue. "Infected. Yes, I do," he finished.

Piper frowned, unsure of how to phrase her next words. Finding a satisfactory sequence of words, she asked, "How would someone like you go about making the cure?"

Doctor Watson sighed and rested his head in his wrinkled hand. His forehead creased as his thoughts came to him. "Well, it’s risky," he said after some time. "The fungus infects the brain, and if someone were immune, it would be something in the brain or the central nervous system if you'd rather I'd get technical."

Piper grimaced. "So, not their blood?"

"No," Doctor Watson shook his head. "To even attempt a cure, that person’s brain would have to be removed so one could determine the cause of immunity. Even so, attempting to replicate it in others is nearly impossible with the state of medical technology now."

"Are you saying…they would die, The immune person?" Piper's voice grew quiet as her clarifying question floated around.

"Yes," Doctor Watson answered.

"Oh," Piper's face fell. With the doctor's answer, she no longer cared for her sickness. Instead, she thought of Ellie. She wondered if Ellie knew, which she most likely didn't. Next, she wondered if Marlene knew and knowingly misled the girls. Did Joel and Tess know? Were she and Ellie just being led to their deaths, all in the hope of an impossible cure? Piper's uncertainty was quickly replaced with a determination to tell Ellie. She had to stop her sister, even if it meant breaking her. She had to tell Ellie. She had to keep Ellie alive. She noticed she'd been quiet for too long. "Thanks for the–yeah," Piper blurted.

"No problem." Doctor Watson stood up and walked to the door, motioning for Piper to follow. "Charlie?" He called out.

Charlie popped up in the doorway. His head of frustratingly perfect curls sparkled with golden highlights from the artificial lights. "Yeah?" He said before sending Piper a grin.

"Charlie will show you out," Doctor Watson told Piper. "Take care, Piper."

"Yeah," Piper muttered before following Charlie out into the lobby. She looked around for Ellie's familiar face and Maria's figure. She frowned. They were nowhere to be seen. "Where’s Maria?" She asked Charlie.

"So…Maria’s not here," Charlie said. "Thought I’d show you to her house." He smiled at her and nervously ran his hand through his hair.

Piper watched his hands as they brushed through his curls. Shaking herself out of her insane trance, she declined, "No thanks."

"It’s not far," Charlie explained, "besides, I’d hate it if you got lost."

"I don’t get lost," Piper mentioned, standing up straighter as she marched to the door.

"Just like you don’t get sick?" Charlie chuckled.

With her hand frozen on the door handle, Piper slowly turned around and caught sight of Charlie's smug smile. "Fuck you," Piper growled before opening the door.

"Thanks," Charlie said as he brushed by Piper, strolling out the door. "Come on, Piper."

She was sure her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and were now permanently stuck. "Jesus Christ," she mumbled.

꧁_꧂

It was hard to see anything in the steam-filled bathroom. The place had a plethora of piping hot water, and Ellie decided she'd take full advantage of that, unaware that she'd left barely any for Piper and Joel. The foggy air fled from the bathroom once Ellie had creaked open the door. If she hadn't just taken the longest and hottest shower known to mankind, one might think there had been a fire.

Creeping over to the pink and green blanketed bed, Ellie noticed the new addition of clean clothes and a plastic, gel-like thingy. Her brows creased as she picked up the strange object and quickly noticed a sheet of paper containing instructions. She briefly read the sheet and pulled her lips tight. "Oh! Gross," she mumbled. Placing it down, she picked up the clothes and began to change.

Each item of clothing was free from dirt, grime, bugs, and anything else that the outdoors could taint with. She felt clean and new. She was sure she'd never felt it in her life. All the clothes she'd worn in the QZ were old or covered in dust from the years of sitting once modern civilization had been forgotten. She smiled, felt the soft cloth along her skin, and thought of how much Piper was going to enjoy a hot shower and new clothes. It'd be a dream come true for her older sister's obsession with hygiene.

After changing, Ellie recalled Maria's words and went down the stairs, out the door, and across the street to Tommy and Maria's residence. Raising her fist to knock quietly, Ellie stepped inside the home.

"Hello? Maria?" She called out, looking around for the woman. Her feet took her further into the home. It was nice and…homely, Ellie guessed. She wasn't sure what a home would look like, but Maria and Tommy's setup seemed close enough. There were maintained couches, lamps, tables, and decorations on the mantel. Upon further glance, Ellie noticed a board with names. It read "Kevin and Sarah."

"Oh, good," Maria's voice said from behind Ellie. Turning around, Ellie peered down at Maria's hand. In it was an ugly-ass purple coat and another that was a blinding bright orange. Both colors were atrocious to look at, but Ellie quickly determined the orange was much easier on the eyes. The shade of the purple coat was that of a dark bruise. It made Ellie feel sick just looking at it.

"I just traded for this. Go ahead, try it on," Maria encouraged, handing the purple coat to Ellie.

"It's, uh," Ellie said, trying to hide her grimace. "…super fսckin' purple."

"Eggplant," Maria corrected. Ellie's eyes flashed with confusion at the mention of an eggplant. Whatever it was, it sounded just as gross as the shade of purple. "It fits?" Maria asked.

"Yeah," Ellie shrugged, feeling much warmer than she'd ever been in her old coat.

"Shoes aren't too big?"

Wiggling her toes, Ellie shook her head. "Uh, no. Where's my other stuff?"

"Rag pile," Maria said. "Did you get the thing I left you?"

"Yeah. Weirdest gift ever," Ellie muttered, thinking about the thingy still on the bed.

"But useful," Maria chuckled. She stepped close to Ellie and pointed to her hair. "Who's been cutting your hair?"

"Uh, world-class salons," Ellie sarcastically replied. Maria smiled. "Piper," Ellie confessed. "Piper's always the one who cuts it."

Maria nodded. "Let me get my scissors."

"Oh," Ellie exclaimed. "Whoa, no. I'm…"

"Trim," Maria assured. "That's all. Just the ends, I promise."

Glancing down at her wet hair, Ellie sighed. It would be nice to cut it a bit shorter. Nodding her head, she followed Maria into the dining room and sat down in the chair Maria had presented her.

Expertly weaving her finger through Ellie's hair, Maria began to brush, measure, and cut it. Ellie's scalp tingled as Maria massaged her head, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in contentment. Maybe Piper could learn some tips from Maria.

"Maria?" An unfamiliar voice echoed throughout the home.

Maria stopped brushing through Ellie's hair and peered around. "Charlie!" She called out as the boy from the doctor's office, and Piper stepped into the dining hall.

"You forgot me," Piper muttered.

"Sorry," Maria apologized. I was busy trading for some new clothes for you and your sister." She stepped away from Ellie, retrieved the clothes and orange coat from the table, and handed them over to Piper. "Here. Try this on," she said before turning to Charlie. Thanks again, Charlie."

"No problem, Ma’am," Charlie beamed, and Piper swore, then stood a few inches taller.

"So, are you gonna try them on?" Maria expectantly said.

Piper glanced down at the clothes and coat. "They’ll fit," she said.

Maria looked disbelieving but chose not to say anything. "Right," she nodded. "The house you’re staying in is right across from mine. Find a room, take a shower and come on back over here. I’ll cut your hair too."

"I’ll cut it myself," Piper grumbled.

Maria sighed. "Well, you’ll need scissors." She walked over to the kitchen and opened a drawer, pulling out another pair of scissors. She carefully placed them in Piper's hand.

"Thanks," Piper mumbled before tucking them under her arm with the rest of her clothes.

"I can show you to the house," Charlie proposed.

Piper opened her mouth to refuse, but Maria beat her to it. "Doctor Watson will need you back at the office."

Charlie closed his mouth and bid his goodbye. Piper watched him go, torn between missing his annoying presence and being grateful for Maria's words. Soon, Maria got back to grooming Ellie's hair. Meanwhile, the urge for a shower grew greater than Doctor Watson's answers. So, Piper found herself sneaking over to the house across the street. There was also a later time she could tell Ellie. A better time away from outside listening ears.

꧁_꧂ "So, this was, like, your job back then or something?" Ellie wondered as Maria snipped away at her hair. It must have been with how deftly Maria navigated Ellie's head of hair.

"No," Maria said. "I was an Assistant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put bad guys in jail."

"Oh… Cool," Ellie replied. "I guess."

"I always liked doing hair, though," Maria continued. "Maybe it was a mom thing. You were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?"

"Uh, yeah." Ellie peeked over at Maria, who gently directed her head back down. "I'm-I'm sorry about your kids."

"It's okay. And kid," Maria corrected. "Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel's daughter." Maria felt Ellie's shoulders stiffen. "Oh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Ellie shook her head. "It's okay. I guess that explains him a little."

Satisfied with the trim she had given Ellie, Maria set the scissors down and leaned against the table across from Ellie. "Look, I'm not gonna ask you what you're doing with him."

"Good," Ellie replied. Her voice grew stiff.

"But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel," Maria noted.

"Oh," Ellie said, connecting the dots Maria had left for her. "…like how he used to kill people? I know about that."

"So then you understand my concern."

Ellie shook her head. "He doesn't do that anymore."

"He stopped killing people?" Maria raised her brow, unconvinced.

"Innocent ones," Ellie corrected. "And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?"

"Tommy was following Joel," Maria explained. "The way you and your sister are now."

"Well," Ellie scoffed, "maybe Piper and I are smarter than Tommy. No offense."

"You are definitely smart. Would've made a hell of a lawyer," Maria chuckled. "There's a whole lot you're not telling me. Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in. The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust. You understand?"

"Mm-hmm," Ellie nodded.

"Now, come on." Maria stood up. "Grab your super fսckin' eggplant coat."

Ellie shrugged on the coat. "Where are we going?"

"The movies," Maria replied before strolling out the front door, expecting Ellie to follow.

꧁_꧂

Piper noted that the house had just enough bedrooms for Ellie and her and too many bathrooms. There were four, one in each of the bedrooms and another, which she assumed was the communal one.

She'd found a bedroom with ease. Ellie had already staked her claim in one of the upstairs rooms by sprawling her bag on the floor next to the bed. One of the others contained a large bed, much too big for Piper to find any comfort in. She left that one to Joel and instead took up the bedroom on the ground floor.

The walls were painted light blue, and the sheets had various small flower designs adorning them. The bed was small, something she was happy about. She preferred small beds. She wasn't sure why, but she did. The less space things took up, the better.

After finding her room, she entered the bathroom and started up her shower. The water was warm against the cooler air of the bathroom. It did not take long for steam to collect in the air. Stepping underneath the water, Piper watched as months of dirt washed down the drain. At first, the water turned a shade of dark brown, and for a moment, Piper thought it stained the white porcelain of the tub. After a few minutes, the water turned clear again, and Piper began to scrub.

She scrubbed her hair, letting strands trickle down the drain. Her hands, all soaped up, scrubbed her skin until it grew raw and pink. Next were her nail beds, which Piper had determined were the cleanest part of her due to the care Doctor Watson had shown her. Trailing her hands over the soggy bandages, she was glad the Doctor had given her extra. She'd have to rebandage them once her shower was over.

Once she was satisfied with her cleanliness, Piper switched off the water and stepped out. After drying and rebandaging her hand, she wiped away the condensation on the mirror. She didn't spend much time admiring her clean figure and instead looked at her hair. Even washed, it seemed all tangled up. Maybe Maria was right. She really did need a haircut. Carefully, she brushed her fingers through her hair, releasing most of the knots.

Picking up the scissors, Piper stared at her reflection. Her hair was thick and long. Perfect for keeping the nipping cold at bay. She knew she'd have to brave the cold once again and a haircut would not do her any good. Confirming her decision, Piper placed down the scissors and replaced them with the pills Doctor Watson had given her. She swallowed, glanced at her reflection, and left the bathroom.

The new clothes and coat trapped the warmth of the shower against Piper's skin. In the pockets of the coat she found a new hat, gloves, and cup thingy. She frowned as she squished it until recognition filled her face. Placing the period cup in her bag, Piper made her way out of the house and to Maria's. Except Maria wasn't there and neither was Ellie.

"Forgotten again," Piper mumbled to herself. Then she noticed a note on the dining room table.

"We are at the movies. Just take a left and the end of the road and then go straight - Maria"

"Movies," Piper repeated as she crumpled up the note. "Of course, they have movies."

꧁_꧂

The bell above the door chimed, and a burst of cold air filled the room. Joel groaned as the tool in his hand slipped and fell to the floor. His hands were shaking too much to fix his leather boots, which were falling apart at the seams. Not bothering to look up at the guest, Joel placed his head in his hands.

"The guys said I might find you here," Tommy announced before plopping new boots on the table in front of Joel. "Figured I'd save you the trouble."

Joel glanced up at the boots and then at his brother.

"I shouldn't have said what I said," Tommy apologized.

"I don't even believe it," Joel muttered.

"I know you're happy for me. It just…," Tommy trailed off, trying to find the right words. "It's complicated for you… and I'm sorry."

Joel sighed and placed on the new pair of boots. They fit like a glove. "So you're gonna let me off the hook, or what?" Tommy shook his head and leaned against a nearby table. "This ride to the University, is it a suicide mission?" Joel pondered.

"No," Tommy replied. "It's dangerous, but it's nothin' you can't handle. Just prepare and do what you do."

"You've had people go that way and come back?" Joel asked, taking in Tommy's advice.

"All of 'em," Tommy answered. He watched as his brother grew quiet. "What is this?" Tommy asked.

Joel was eerily quiet before answering. "They're immune," he confessed.

"What?" Tommy's brows creased in confusion.

"Ellie and Piper," Joel clarified. "They got infected but didn't get sick. And Piper… the infected just ignore her." Tommy stepped back in disbelief. "Tommy," Joel continued. "Tommy, I saw Piper get bit myself. I saw what the infected did. That was months ago. Months. She's immune."

Tommy peered deep into Joel's eyes and saw the truth of sincerity. Quickly checking the door, Tommy stepped closer to Joel. "From the beginning," Tommy asked.

Joel took in a deep breath of air before beginning. "It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle the girls to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kids. It was her dying wish," Joel's voice cracked. "What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know, they saved my life there… from another kid."

Running his fingers over the calluses on his hands, Joel continued. "Five years ago, I would've destroyed him. But Piper had to shoot him to save me. 17 years old. Because I was too slow and too fսck¡n' deaf to hear him comin'. And I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save Ellie while I just watched."

With each word spilling from his mouth, Joel found his strength disappearing. His eyes blurred, and he felt his cheeks grow wet. This was a weakness. He was weak, and he knew it. "And today, I thought that dog was gonna tear the girls apart because it smelled somethin' on them. And all I did was stand there. I couldn't… move. I couldn't think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid."

"You think I can still handle things, but… I'm not who I was,: Joel admitted and he felt a weight come off his chest. So long he'd been standing tall. For so long, he kept going, kept looking for Tommy. Now that he'd found his brother, Joel didn't know what to do. "I'm weak. Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night."

"What kinda dreams?" Tommy interjected.

Joel grabbed the side of his head. "I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up… I've lost somethin','' he sobbed. "I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail them again and again."

Tommy's expression softened as the puzzle of Joel's words came together. "You want me to take the girls," Tommy concluded.

Joel couldn't help but nod as the tears rolled down his face. "I'm just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them."

"Joel…"Tommy tried to comfort him.

"I mean, it's why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?" Joel said. "Well, here's your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You're younger than me. You're still strong. You said it yourself: you'll come back. You have to take them." Joel sniffled and wiped his cheeks; his pleading exchanged for something more protective. Joel admitted to his brother the truth and discovered a truth of his own. He cared for the girls. They were his girls, whether he liked it or not. It just happened, and he knew he'd die if anything befell them. His heart would be torn into shreds if he couldn't save them, just like he couldn't save Sarah. He knew now why he wanted to refuse Piper's wish, why he didn't want Ellie to pick up a gun, and why he hated hearing about what his girls had gone through. Joel was a father through and through, and Piper and Ellie were not his girls.

"And you can't tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you're the only one I trust," Joel begged. "If anyone else sees those bites on her, what's under her skin… they'll shoot her. It's the last thing I'll ever ask of you. I swear."

Tommy was quiet for a moment before answering. The words that came out of his mouth only relieved Joel. "I'll take them out at dawn. We got you in 38. It's left, left, right."

꧁_꧂

Speckles of white in Piper's hair sparkled under the yellow street lights. She'd left her hair down. The feeling was foreign to her but freeing. Maybe in the future, she'd continue to keep her hair down.

Smiling, she looked down at the snow; her new boots repelled the water and cold. It was a nice change from the leaky shoes she had worn before.

The sound of snow crunching doubled, and Piper looked up. She saw her sister, head hung low, marching towards her.

"Els," Piper called out. Ellie kept walking. "Do you know where the movie is?"

Ellie brushed past her sister, pausing long enough to answer her. "Movie sucks ass," Ellie mumbled.

Piper stopped and turned around. "Hey, is everything-"

"I'm fine," Ellie hissed. "What happened to your hands?"

Piper looked down, "Nothing, scraped them that's all. The doctor was nice enough to bandage them up."

"You sick?" Ellie asked.

Piper was sure that the snow was falling harder now. She shivered. "Yeah…just a cold, though, nothing too bad." Ellie nodded. Speaking of the doctor, I asked about the…" Piper paused, unsure of how to say it. "Ellie, it's not going to work."

Ellie looked up and frowned. "What's not gonna work?" Piper only responded in silence, and from the look on her sister's face, Ellie knew what Piper was going to say. "No. It'll fucking work."

"Els," Piper pleaded.

"No!" Ellie bellowed, shoving Piper's shoulders.

Piper gasped, "Els, listen to me. I asked the doct-"

Ellie's face scrunched up, and her ears rang as a mantra of no repeated in her mind. The next thing she knew, her fist had found its way into Piper's face. Anger and hurt flooded from her soul down her fist and implanted itself onto Piper's body. Too much had been stolen from the girl, and she wasn't going to let Piper take anything else. She wasn't going to let the one thing keeping her going disappear from view. She had to save everyone. She had to get rid of the fungus that had robbed her of a future and the world of anything good. First, her mom, then Riley, Tess, Henry, and Sam. Soon, Joel was going to leave, too. She had heard him beg his brother, and now Piper was going to take away her objective.

With each punch, Ellie found her drive even more controlling. Her fear, anger, and pain took over and governed her actions. It was as if she couldn't hear her sister's pleas or feel the blood trickling down Piper's face and spilling into the snow, tainting it a vibrant red.

"Ellie!" Piper coughed, spitting out blood onto the snow.

Ellie froze. Her chest heaved up and down. The snowing made everything too blurry, or maybe it was the tears escaping Ellie's eyes. Her hands burned from the warmth of Piper's blood and the fog of her mind faded.

Scrambling to stand, Ellie took one look at her sister in the snow. Piper lay on her side in the snow. Wheezing coughs escaped her lungs as blood from her nose and mouth pooled on the snow, melting it. Bruises had already started to form on Piper's skin, turning shades of blue and purple. The same purple of Ellie's coat.

Seeing her sister's pain, Ellie was overcome with guilt. Her heart pounded, and her breath stilled. All she could do was watch or run away, so she did. She ran deep into the snow storm and back to the ghost of a home she was staying in.

By the time the footsteps of Ellie's boots had been erased by the storm, Piper still hadn't moved. She was freezing, bleeding, and in pain. However, it wasn't the pain of the physical wounds Ellie had given her that hurt. Ellie had left. She had hurt Ellie, even if the full truth hadn't been revealed. She had ripped the band-aid off too soon and the wound had grown infected.

As Piper lay in the snow, she grew numb to the cold and the pain. In fact, she welcomed it. She'd been living for Ellie, protecting her, watching over her. After all, it was her and Ellie until the end. She'd said that phrase so many times that the irony scalded her soul. Ellie was marching to the end. An end to save an imaginary world in her head. An end that Piper knew she'd follow her sister into. If Ellie was going to walk into the arms of death, so would Piper. No matter how much she desired to live. No matter how much she didn't want to leave Joel. Nothing mattered when her sister was on the line. Piper had made a promise, and she was going to keep it. Even if it meant dying for a cause she no longer believed in. Even if it meant she had to give up her real dream: the home with Joel and Ellie. The smile on her sister's face, the warmth of Joel's protective hug. The dream of a family.

"Piper?" a distorted voice asked, and soon, a weight was placed on her shoulder. It was Charlie. He was leaning over her now. Looking up, Piper noticed a crowd. People had circled around her, and their whispers thundered in her head.

"Piper, what happened?" Charlie asked. The concern and worry in his voice was apparent.

Piper didn't need his concern. She didn't want it. After all, what good was a stranger's concern if you knew you were going to die? If you knew you were going to lose everything. If you knew you'd be alone.

Smacking away Charlie's hand and pushing him into the snow, Piper stood up and wiped away the blood. She ignored Charlie's pleas and the gasps of the townspeople. Fuck them, Piper thought as she marched through the storm and into the darkness after her sister.

Wherever Ellie went, so did Piper.

꧁_꧂

The house was quiet. If it weren't for the light that trickled out of Ellie's room, Joel would have thought the home was empty. The wooden stairs creaked as Joel trudged up them. His feet carried him as far as the door before he stopped. His hand inches away from knocking.

"Ellie?" Joel called out. There was no response, so he gently pushed the door open and found Ellie sitting on the windowsill. A journal in her hands.

"Is this really all they had to worry about?" Ellie asked. "Boys. Movies. Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt. It's bizarre."

Joel shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped closer, fumbling with his feet. "Listen, um…"

"Why are you here?"

"I came here to talk to you," Joel replied, confused by Ellie's harsh tone of voice.

"No, why are you still here? If you're gonna ditch me, ditch me," Ellie spat and glared at the man.

Joel sighed and felt his lips form into a frown. "What exactly did you hear?"

"I have to leave her. You have to take her," Ellie mocked Joel's deep voice. "You know, I stood up for you today because I thought…" Hurt echoed in her words, and Ellie turned away, trying to fight back tears. Everyone was leaving her.

"I made this decision for your own good," Joel stated.

"Just like Piper?" Ellie muttered with clenched fists. Her hands still burned from her sister's blood.

Joel shook his head, unsure of what Ellie meant. "You'll be way better off with Tommy." "You and Piper," Joel clarified. "Tommy knows the area better than I do…"

Finally turning to face Joel again, Ellie raged, "Do you give a shit about me or not?"

"Of course," Joel defended, and Ellie scoffed. "I do."

"Then what are you so afraid of? I'm not her, you know? Maria told me about Sarah and…" Ellie was cut off.

"Don't," Joel growled. His face hardened, and through clenched teeth, he spoke, "Don't say another word."

Throwing the journal to the side, Ellie stood up. "I-I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel," Ellie said. "But I have lost people, too."

Joel rolled his eyes and stepped back. Hurt flashed in Ellie's eyes. "You have no idea what loss is," Joel stated.

"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me," Ellie fumed. Her voice grew louder and louder. "Everybody, fսcking except for you and Pi–!" She cut herself short. Joel was leaving, and she had pushed Piper away. There was no way her sister…Ellie bit her lip. She was alone. She was always cursed to be alone. "So don't tell me that I'd be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."

Joel's expression hardened at Ellie's tears. His heart hurt from seeing her tears and hearing her pleas. Right then and there he wanted to tell her he'd change his mind. Say that he'd take them, but he couldn't. Joel was weak. Ellie and Piper made them weak. This was for the best. He was doing this for them.

"You're right. You're not my daughter," Joel growled. "And I sure as hell ain't your dad. Now, come dawn… we're goin' our separate ways."

Ellie scowled and fell back down on the bed. She hugged her legs in close and turned away from Joel, burying her head in between her knees. "Good luck telling Piper that."

The door creaked behind them, and then Joel heard it. It was the sound of Piper running away. He pinched the sides of his nose and walked out of Ellie's room. This was for the best. As long as he kept telling himself that maybe this whole thing would become a bit easier. He just had to tell Piper, and his pain would be over. His weaknesses would be gone.

At least it would be if he could find Piper. He scoured the entire house: every single room, bathroom, in the dark corners, underneath the furniture. Piper was gone. His heart tightened in his chest until he heard her cough. It was coming from the porch. Piper was outside in the cold.

Joel didn't care how the cold bit at his skin when he saw Piper huddled in the corner. Her body trembled, fighting off the cold. She looked so small compared to how tall she stood. Her once-strong persona crumbled underneath Joel's gaze. Piper was just a kid in a big, scary world. And no matter how long Joel stood staring at her, he couldn't find any words of assurance.

"Don’t leave," Piper whimpered. Given how quiet she had been, Joel wasn't even sure he heard it correctly, so he stood there and watched.

"Please don’t leave," she said a bit louder.

"Look, kid," Joel sighed, stepping closer to her. His heart broke when he saw her tear-stained face peering up at him.

"No, Joel, you listen to me," she pleaded as she reached out to him before pulling back. Her hands turned white as she clung to herself. There was no one else. Ellie was leaving, and so was Joel. Piper was utterly alone. "I got sick and–I never get sick. I never let myself get sick. I couldn’t get–Please don’t leave." Her voice struggled to keep still as the trembles of a lifetime of loss, hurt, and fear overcame her.

"Let’s get you inside," Joel gently suggested as he watched her shiver. His hands unconsciously reached out to hold her, but she pulled back and shook her head.

"No. No, Joel, you’re not listening," she said.

"Piper, I can’t."

Piper sobbed. "Joel, please. I can’t lose you too. I already lost El–everyone. I’ve been fighting for so long I don’t remember what it's like to be safe, but I’m safe with you." Piper peered up at Joel. His eyes were cold. Piper searched and couldn't salvage the safe haven she had found in them before. "I–Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me," she begged for the last time as her voice failed her.

He had to do it. He was doing it for her, for her and Ellie. It was for the best. Joel repeated these lies over and over until he found enough false strength to turn away. "You should go inside and get some sleep," he suggested with his voice void of emotion. Tommy will take you in the morning." Then he opened the door and left the shell of a young girl to freeze in the cold.

By the time Piper stood up and crawled back inside, she couldn't feel anything. She couldn't feel her hair falling to the ground as she cut it off. All she could hear was the roaring scissors snip as her hair grew shorter inch by inch. She was losing everything: her sister, her purpose, her home, her family, her dream, and Joel. With each cut of the scissors, she felt her pain dull more and more until there was no more hair to cut.

Her beautiful dark hair clung to the sink and bathroom floor. In the middle stood Piper. Her skin was a bright red as heat seeped back under her skin. Dried blood stuck to her skin and clothes. Her bandages were frozen from the cold. She'd have to change them again, but that was for later. All she could do was stand and stare at the ghost she saw in the mirror.

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deancodedinthewater · 1 year ago

Text

Skin Part 3

“You think he found another way underground?” Sam asked as he stopped by the trunk of the car, turning back towards Dean as he spoke.

“Yeah, probably,” Dean agreed, stepping up to Sam and holding his hand out. “You got the keys?”

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled them out. Halfway to handing them over, he pulled his hand back. “Hey,” he said, hand hovering awkwardly between them. “Didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?”

“Oh that was Austin,” Dean said without hesitation. “It turned out to not be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?” Sam felt a wash of relief. Dean hadn’t been grabbed.

“Oh right,” he said, tossing the keys to Dean. “Here you go.” Dean caught them lefthanded. Sam turned, eyes widening. Dean had injured that shoulder less than a week ago and Sam had had to deal with him tossing and turning in his sleep just last night.

Dean opened the trunk and stared down at the weapons there. He laughed.

“Don’t move!” Sam yelled. Pointing his gun at Dean. Dean’s eyes widened when he saw the gun. “What have you done with him?”

“Dude, chill,” the fake Dean replied. “It’s me, alright?”

“No,” Sam said, finger twitching on the trigger. “I don’t think so. Where’s my brother?”

“You’re about to shoot him,” Dean yelled right back. “Sam, calm down.”

“You caught those keys with your left,” Sam said, gesturing with his gun. “Your shoulder was hurt.”

“Yeah, it’s better,” not Dean said. “What do you want me to do, cry?”

“You’re not my brother.”

“Why don’t you pull the trigger then? Hm?” the shifter said, stepping closer to the barrel of Sam’s gun. A move that screamed Dean but Sam didn’t lower his gun. He kept the sights trained on Dean’s chest. “‘Cause you’re not sure. Dude, you know me.”

The shapeshifter in his brother’s form stepped closer again. Sam firmed up his stance. “Don’t.”

The shifter paused and gave Sam Dean’s patented annoyed look. He swung a crowbar and whacked Sam in the chest. Sam doubled over. The shifter swung again, this time for his head. Sam crumpled like a house of cards.

Sam startled awake in a room he didn’t recognise. The first thing he noticed was his neck and hands were bound to a wooden post. He tugged at the ropes on his hands experimentally. A hand, wearing a metal ring that left a cut, backhanded his cheek. Sam groaned, trying to pull away and saw his older brother. No. The shapeshifter standing above him, hand raised ready to slap him again.

“Where is he?” Sam yelled, tugging at the ropes harder now. “Where’s Dean?”

“I wouldn’t worry about him,” the shapeshifter growled, squatting in front of him and giving him a mocking smirk. “I’d worry about myself if I was you.”

“Where is he?”

“You don’t really wanna know,” the shifter said, chuckling as he turned away from Sam. “I swear,” he added, shaking his head. “The more I learn about you and your family- and I thought I came from a bad background.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. “Learn?” The shapeshifter froze. He doubled over in pain, grabbing the sides of his head. The way he moved reminded Sam of Dean when he was overstimulated, all sharp and hard as if closing off physically would reduce the stimulus. Sam just frowned at him.

A moment passed and the shapeshifter’s posture relaxed. He turned back to Sam, that mocking grin back in place. “He’s sure got issues with you,” he said, tapping his own forehead. “You got to go to college. He had to stay home.” He laughed. “I mean, I had to stay at home. With Dad.” He stepped forwards, hand twitching as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. “You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?”

“Where is my brother?” Sam replied.

The shapeshifter leant over, right in Sam’s face. “I am your brother.” He stepped away again. “See, deep down I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. A flat chest.” He tapped his chest with one hand. “Me? I know I’m a freak. A tranny. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.” He backed away, hands still clutched to his chest.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

Dean laughed in Sam’s face. “What am I talking about?” He shook his head. “You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. No explanation. Nothing. Just poof.” He mimed an explosion. “Left me with your sorry ass. But still, this life? It’s not without its perks.” He laughed again. “I meet the nicest people. Like Little Becky.” He turned back to Sam. “You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Probably her brother too. Let’s see what happens.” He smiled at Sam, all teeth, and threw a sheet over him.

He made his way over to Rebecca’s house at a leisurely pace, the car making this trek so much easier than scurrying through the sewers, as he thought on the Winchester boys. Lonely without Daddy. They were certainly something. And learning that he wasn’t alone? That there were other non-human things out there? That gave Dean a sense of relief.

“Oh, hi,” Rebecca said when she opened the door after he had knocked. And that brought another sense of relief. He was more than likely going to get away with it again.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Dean said.

“Oh, you do?” Rebecca asked, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed.

“Well, no, not exactly,” Dean admitted, leaning into the mannerisms of the original. “But I can take a guess. Get off my porch?”

Rebecca laughed. “That’s about right.”

“I admit it, we lied,” Dean said to her with a smile. “Thought I’d try to explain myself. Sam told me not to come, but, you know, I thought, what the hell, I have to try.” She let him in and Dean grinned behind her back.

Sam twisted his hands in the ropes and tried to pull them apart but they wouldn’t give. He banged his head against the pole behind him. “Damn it.” His wrists were chafing.

There was a noise from behind him and then a cough. Sam turned as best he could.

“That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature,” came his brother’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sam replied with a laugh. Over in the corner, just visible if Sam pulled at the rope around his neck, he saw Dean throw off a white sheet of his own. “He went to Rebeeca’s looking like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid,” Dean said as he worked his hands free of his own ropes. “He picked the handsome one.” Sam frowned at him but decided against commenting as he went back to work with a renewed vigour. “Yeah that’s the thing,” Sam continued. “He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as he finally got his hands out.

“I don’t know. It was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.”

“You mean like the Vulcan mind meld?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam agreed as Dean made his way across the room, in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Just like in that area of the sewer there were piles of clothes strewn all over the floor here. “I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us?”

“Maybe he needs to keep us alive,” Dean suggested. He came up behind Sam and undid the rope around his neck before starting in on his hands. Sam rolled his head forwards as soon as he could and sighed in relief. “Psychic connection or something.”

Dean worked quickly on Sam’s hands and Sam rubbed at his wrists. They were red and throbbing from the ropes but it would fade soon enough.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, standing up. “Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably already at Rebecca’s.”

Dean glanced around and pointed at a nearby window with his thumb and a nod of his head. Sam climbed out and dropped down to the street first, Dean a few moments later.

“Come on,” Sam said, panic rising in his throat. “We gotta find a phone, call the police.” He started running down the street hoping for a phone booth.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean yelled, darting in front of him and putting his hands up. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me!”

Sam just shrugged. “Sorry.”

Dean sighed and glanced over his shoulder. “This way,” he said and started running. Sam following.

Rebecca cradled her glass between her hands and stared at Dean with a mix of confusion and disbelief. “So, you’re saying that there’s something out there that made itself look like my brother.” Dean nodded, humming his agreement. “What’d you call it?”

“A shapeshifter,” he replied. Rebecca laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, maybe we’re crazy. But what if we’re not?” He rolled his wrist towards her and gave her an almost pleading look. “I mean, you said it yourself that Zack was in two places at once. Now, tell me how that can happen.”

She had to hand that one to him. “Okay, so, this thing-” She started, shaking her head at herself for actually starting to believe this. “It can make itself look like anybody?”

“Well, what is it? Like a genetic freak?”

“Maybe.” Dean laughed. “Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else.” Rebecca glanced away, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going in.

“It’s funny. I kind of understand him,” Dean continued, smiling a secret little smile. He’s all alone- close to no one. All he wants is for someone to love him. He’s like me.” Rebecca shifted further away from Dean on the sofa. “You know, everybody needs a little human touch now and then. It’s so hard being different.” Dean reached across the gap and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Rebecca pulled away. “You should go,” she told him.

Dean leant across the space between them and whispered in her ear. Before he could even finish Rebecca stood, horrified. “You are disgusting! Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Rebecca, just calm down,” Dean said, standing to meet her.

“Calm down?” Rebecca demanded. “What is fucking wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean asked, sounding more scandalised than he had any right to be. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m calling the police,” Rebecca said, crossing the room and picking up the phone. Dean followed her. He grabbed the phone and threw it to the ground. Rebecca screamed and tried to run but she tripped on the cord for the phone. Dean straddled her, taking all too much pleasure in the act she was sure of, and began wrapping the telephone cord around her hands.

“Give me your hands,” he demanded, grabbing for them. Rebecca screamed louder. “Shut up!” Dean whacked the receiver over her head and that was the last thing she knew.

“You’re a nice girl, Rebecca,” Dean said, spinning the knife in his hands and pacing around Rebecca’s bloodied form where he had tied her to a chair in her bedroom. “I mean, I liked you. Believe me, that makes this harder.” He stopped in front of her and held up his knife, twisting it so the low light seemed to glint across its polished surface. “But I gotta do what I gotta do.” He stepped towards her but turned when the sound of a shattering door reached them.

Rebecca tried to scream around the gag he had tied around her mouth.

“Shh,” Dean said, pressing his knife to her throat. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and decided it wasn’t worth it. Dean crossed the room and peered out of the door to see a SWAT team facing in the wrong direction. He dodged past them into the other bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

His eyes scanned the room looking for an escape and they fell on balcony doors. Hurrying across the room, Dean opened the doors and was just about to step out when the door behind him burst open.

““Freeze!” yelled one of the SWAT team, Dean lifted his knife. “Don’t move! Drop the knife. Keep your hands where I can see them. Drop it!”

Dean turned slowly, knife still raised. He made sure that these guys saw every detail of the face he was using.

“Hold it right there!” the officer ordered.

Instead, Dean grinned and threw his knife at the officer. The rest of the SWAT team opened fire on him. Dean kicked the nearest one into the doorway, blocking the rest from coming in, before he turned to the open door and jumped off the balcony. He rolled as he hit the ground and set off at a sprint.

“Come on! Come on! Go! Go!” yelled the SWAT team leader from the house as gunshots struck the ground around Dean. He kept running.

He dropped down the first manhole cover he found. In the safety of the sewer he stripped off the clothes he had stolen and then dropped to his knees. Already, he could feel his bones shifting inside. The shirt came off easily enough and then after that came the skin. He screamed as his shoulders cracked into a new shape.

Sam and Dean stood in front of a television store window, watching as a news report played on every screen. Sam, despite having been the one to suggest this, was absolutely terrified of what was about to happen. Dean seemed much calmer about it now.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End,” the reporter said. She held papers in front of her but looked directly into the camera. “Where a SWAT team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately 19-25 years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.” The video feed on her switched to a static image. A sketch of Dean. The sketch made him out to be a little more square jawed and otherwise just ever so slightly off.

Dean pulled a face. “Man, not only did they get my age wrong but that’s not even a good picture!”

“It’s good enough,” Sam said, starting to walk off. He tucked his hands into his pockets and tried to fold himself in half to draw less attention. Dean followed, fingers rubbing at the empty space on his finger where his ring would normally be.

“Man!” His brother repeated. There was a splash behind him and Sam half turned to see Dean shaking out his foot after having stepped in a puddle.

“Come on,” he said, covering his eyes and looking away from Dean. “They said attempted murder. At least we know-”

“I didn’t kill her,” Dean finished, stepping around the puddle this time. They continued to walk.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s alright,” Sam said after a pause where both of them just thought about that sentence.

“Alright,” Dean agreed, stopping them on a street corner and looking in every direction. “But first I want to find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

Sam turned to his brother with his hands held out to either side. “We have no weapons,” he said. “No silver bullets.”

“Sam, the guys walking around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal,” Dean snapped back, stepping into Sam’s space in a way that would have been intimidating if Sam wasn’t taller than him. “I want to find him.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, nodding. He fully understood why Dean would want to find this guy. “Where do we look?”

“Well, we could start with the sewers.”

“We have no weapons,” Sam repeated. “He stole our guns, we need more.” They both paused, thinking. Where could they find weapons? Specifically silver bullets. Sam looked up as a revelation hit him. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder. “The car?”

Dean stared at him blankly for a moment and then Sam saw the lightbulb flick on behind his brother’s eyes. “I’m betting he drove over to Rebecca’s.”

“The news said he fled on foot,” Sam explained. Suddenly this hunt was seeming much less hopeless. “I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him driving my car.” Dean shuddered.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright, come on,” he said as he started to walk in the direction of Rebecca’s house.

“It’s killing me,” Dean continued.

“Let it go,” Sam told him, patting his back sympathetically.

When they came around the corner and Dean saw his Baby sat sparkling on the side of the road he hopped on the spot and pointed at her. “Oh, there she is,” he said in relief. “Finally something went right tonight.”

Dean had spoken too soon for as soon as he said that a police car pulled up alongside the Impala. “Oh crap,” Dean said as he turned around and saw another one parked a few yards away. He shifted paths again, heading towards a fence. “This way, this way,” he told Sam urgently.

“You go,” Sam said. “I’ll hold them off.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean snapped. “They’ll catch you.”

“They can’t hold me,” Sam said with a shrug. “Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s.” Dean threw himself up and grabbed the top of the fence, one leg over it when Sam spoke again and he turned. “Dean, stay out of the sewers.” Dean didn’t answer and dropped down the other side. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean yelled back.

As Dean ran for it he heard an officer yell, “Don’t move! Keep your hands where I can see them!” Dean kept running.

He lay low nearby until the cops moved on. With no guards around his car he could get to the trunk and gather some gear. “I’m sorry, Sammy,” he said as he popped the trunk and pulled out a gun. “But you know me- I just can’t wait.” He loaded it with silver bullets and then tucked it into his waistband. Before he shut the trunk he grabbed a silver knife, just in case.

Stocked up, he made his way down into the sewers and followed a vague trail of skin and blood till he came to a room, more of a chamber really, filled with candles - some lit and some burned down - and chains. Dean stepped over piles of rotting flesh and puddles of blood that were scattered across the floor here as he examined the chamber at large. Everything here seemed to form some kind of torture chamber or maybe the shifter just used this room to change. That, at least, would explain all the gunk.

Behind him there came a noise. A rattle of metal and a rustle of cloth. Dean turned and saw a doorway. He lifted his gun and very warily made his way through into a smaller area. This one was almost an actual room. In the corner he saw a figure. Covered by a white sheet.

Dean slowly pulled the sheet away and found Rebecca, her feet and hands bound with rope, under it. Startled, and not sure what to do, Dean asked, “Rebecca?”

Masterpost

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #shapeshifter #skin #sam winchester #bisexual dean winchester #trans dean winchester #dean winchester has tattoos #spn rewrite #spn season 1 #spn 1x06 #i'd rather have you queued or not

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

Text

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink.

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you. Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing.

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

aries-writingblog · 3 years ago

Text

Just Friends

Summary: Bucky has dated woman after woman- none of them seemed to really fit. The only person who really stuck around for him was his roommate and best friend- until she becomes more to him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4113

Warnings: language

AN: GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.

“Oh, dude… you are so fucked…” YN snickered, peeking over her arm into the landing cameras of the Quinjet. Bucky groaned, following her gaze.

Clarissa, his most recent fling, stood waiting for the jet to land. Her weight was on one foot, hip popped out in annoyance. An unwavering pout sat firm on her lips.

“Shit…” He mentally began preparing himself for the lashing he would receive from the woman. She was going to tear him a new one.

Bucky had been supposed to go to some stupid party with her, a friend’s baby shower if he remembered correctly. But then, YN had approached him twenty seven hours before the party. She needed backup for a three day mission. And Bucky was off like a rocket.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care for Clarissa, he did, but he really did not want to go to a baby shower. He didn’t want to be in a room full of strangers who all knew each other. He would be the outsider and everyone would ask every question ever. He didn’t have that kind of social patience.

Plus, YN was his best friend. He couldn’t leave her without backup on a mission. If he left her to fend for herself and she came back injured, or worse, Bucky would never forgive himself.

“Cover for me?” He asked, flipping switches as they landed the jet. YN laughed, it was one of his favorite sounds. Even though she sounded like a dying cat, it always brought a smile to his face. No matter the circumstances. Even now, Bucky smiled so broadly his cheeks ached.

“No way in hell.” YN nudged his ribs, removing the headset from her ears. She patted his shoulder as she passed by on her way out of the flight deck. “I’ve covered enough of your ass with the other girls. And I’m not doing it again.”

Bucky scoffed, following suit. He snatched his duffel bag from a jump seat, standing beside YN as the landing ramp lowered. He couldn’t deny the facts- he had asked YN several times to cover him when one of his girls would show up, asking for him. Successfully allowing him to duck their questioning for the time being.

His flings wouldn’t stick around long, temporary attempts at finding his footing in a new century. With the help of YN, Bucky had been through half the women of New York, none of them lasted longer than two weeks.

Bucky had found himself ‘ghosting’ women left and right. Self sabotaging every single relationship that came across his path. Cutting them off before they could go too deep, before they could hurt him. Before they knew too much.

“At least soften the blow a little- help me limp out so I can tell her I got shot or something.” Bucky suggested, turning to face her. YN’s nose scrunched, eyes cutting over to his face.

“I didn’t know you were such a terrible boyfriend, Barnes.” She commented, beginning to walk down the ramp. For some reason, the comment stung. A shard of ice pricking his heart. He knew she didn’t mean it, but it still left an ache he couldn’t explain.

“You’re one to talk- I’ve seen you literally ditch a date by crawling out of a bathroom air vent.” Bucky retorted, shouldering his bag. He followed her down the metal at close range, where he could still speak in lowered tones. “You’re not even gonna help out a little?”

“No- I’ve got shit to do.” YN spun around, shooting him finger guns as she walked backwards. “See you around, if you’re alive later.” Bucky’s middle finger flicked up before he could stop it. She only grinned, spinning on her heel. “Hey, there, Clarissa.”

“Yeah, hi.” The tall blonde woman marched her way over to Bucky, pouting as she passed YN. He sighed. It was gonna be a long day.

~~~~~~

Bucky slammed the apartment door, shuffling toward the living room. Kicking off untied boots as he went. YN stared at him as he flipped over the back of the couch, groaning loudly into a pillow. She scooted over a little, huddling into the opposite side as she munched on a spoonful of cereal.

“What the hell is your problem?” She swallowed her mouthful, dipping her spoon back into the bowl. Bucky’s torso slid down the seat, flopping onto the cushions. His socked feet swinging over her head and directly into her lap. “Dude- I’m fucking eating here!”

“I think I dug myself a deeper hole with Clarissa.” He mumbled, tired blue eyes scanning her features. YN shrugged, shoveling more food into her mouth.

“So? How’s this my problem?” Bucky cringed slightly as she spoke around the soggy cereal. His nose crinkled, watching her eat. YN was not perfect, by any definition of the word.

He took it as a compliment, that she was comfortable enough around him she forgot her manners sometimes. She wasn’t the neatest person he had ever shared housing with, either. Her mess was mostly contained to her bedroom, presenting itself as scattered clothes and belongings. The occasional tactical weapon, ammunition scattered from mission bags. Every now and then, after particularly extended missions, it would creep into the living room or kitchen. The kitchen was safe, for the most part, until she decided to try her hand at cooking again.

Though, he was really no better, Bucky would walk through their shared apartment naked on occasion, even when she was home. If he was panicked or exhausted, clothes ended up on the bathroom floor. He rarely left plates on the kitchen counter.

The mess didn’t really bother him, not as he thought it would. He was a perpetual neat freak, motions ingrained through the military. Every morning was the same routine. Make his bed, take a shower, start on breakfast, wait for YN to roll off of the couch and join him for the day.

If she was out, Bucky would take the liberty to clean up behind her. After missions without him, YN would return home to a spotless apartment. Every time she told him it wasn’t necessary, Bucky would ignore her. YN figured it was a way of healing. Something to keep him busy. Keep his mind from straying too far.

At first, he had been slightly apprehensive of living with a woman that he wasn’t at least dating. It went against every word his mother spoke. But in the end, Bucky gave in. Staying with his best friend. He wasn’t complaining though- they shared responsibilities, she was home just about as much as him, which wasn’t often. And she didn’t comment on his nightmares. Didn’t go through his notebooks or his room. And she was endlessly entertaining.

She had also helped him out of several situations where women were in involved. YN was helpful to have around. It didn’t hurt that she was a knock out, literally and figuratively.

“I invited her to Stark’s party.” Bucky admitted, wiping a hand down his face. YN choked, coughing to dislodge the cereal from her throat. He smirked, despite the predicament he presented her with.

“Why would you do that?” She demanded, her voice slightly raspy and hoarse. YN put her bowl down, muting the television. All attention on Bucky. He sighed again, stretching out further across her lap.

“I mean- she’s technically my girlfriend, I should invite her to things.” Bucky reasoned, brows marching together in thought. YN hummed, leaning back against the cushion.

“You don’t sound sure about that.” She noted. Bucky’s eyes flicked over to meet hers, sinking deeper into the chair in shame. “I’ve told you before, I’ll tell you again: If you don’t think it’s working out, you don’t have to stay. Talk to Clarissa and then decide what’s best.”

“Yeah,” Bucky scoffed. “Cause that’ll get so far. You’ve tried talking to the girl- when has the conversation ever not been about herself?”

“Which is the reason I don’t think her at a Stark party will blow over well.” YN explained, shoving his feet off her lap. Snatching her cereal bowl. “Your funeral.”

He slumped down further into the crease of the sofa. Staring at the side of her face. Maybe, admittedly, YN wasn’t exactly the best person to ask for dating advice. She breezed through relationships like she had a job doing it. And she almost never brought them to the apartment, never initiated a conversation about them. Almost as if they never existed.

But he would be damned if he asked Sam Wilson for help. Or Steve- hell, Bucky practically taught Steve how to talk to women when they were younger. There was no way he was going to those two idiots. He had made a few acquaintances around the VA or the Tower. They weren’t friends, though, not in the sense that she was. YN knew everything about him, he knew everything about her. They were comfortable. She was comfortable.

Like most aspects of his life, Bucky was stuck with YN for information. Hoping she didn’t lead him astray.

~~~~~~

“YN- we’re gonna be late!” Bucky shouted, fingers fiddling with the clasp of his cufflink. He would have the most difficult shit to put on when they were running behind. His luck.

“Hold your fucking horses, Barnes, Christ!” She returned the same volume from across the apartment. He rolled his eyes, turning to Clarissa.

The blonde had chosen a dark red dress for the evening, floor length and neckline plunging. Dazzling with jewels along her midriff and chest, a matching piece in her styled hair. Stilettos made her almost Bucky’s height, falling a couple inches too short.

“Is she always that… coarse?” Clarissa asked, nose wrinkling in distaste. She had worn the same expression since she walked in ten minutes earlier. Sure, their place was kind of a wreck but it wasn’t the worst he had ever seen. Especially not for their apartment.

Surprisingly, it was a good day for their place. The woman scoffed, heels clicking over the floors as she approached the windowsill. “Are these cigarettes? You don’t smoke.”

“Those are YN’s.” He lied, snatching them from her red painted claws. Technically it wasn’t a lie- they were YN’s pack. This time, at least.

It had become something of a routine. When one of them would wake up from a nightmare and couldn’t sleep, they would go sit on the fire escape and smoke a couple. Just to take the edge off. A few times, the pair had sat together on the windowsill, passing cigarettes before lighting separate sticks. Each of them replaced the pack when it was empty.

“That is disgusting.” Clarissa shook her head, holding her hands up. Like something would give her a disease. Bucky’s jaw ticked as he observed her repulsed actions. “I can’t believe you live like this… next week, we’re packing up your stuff and you’re moving in with me.”

Bucky felt indignant anger burst out of his chest, nostrils flaring at her words. It wasn’t her choice- she knew how much YN meant to him, why was she acting so… condescending?

Just as he went to bite out a response, a different tone of clicking heels came from down the hallway. The swooshing of material on an evening gown. Hurried footsteps echoing against the walls.

YN emerged, knocking the breath from Bucky’s lungs. Dressed in a navy blue gown, flowing sleeves that draped elegantly across her curves. Hair braided and twisted into graceful slopes, small flowers pinned carefully between locks. Her makeup was flawless, as usual.

“I’m done- you can stop your bitching, Barnes.” She griped, snatching a small handbag from the coffee table, shoving her phone down into it. Her eyes met his, lip curling as her brows furrowed. “What?”

He realized he hadn’t been breathing since she entered, exhaling quietly. Eyes trailing back up her body not so discreetly. Bucky’s fingers twisted into his jacket, a smile slowly tugging his lips. He shook his head, unable to move his eyes.

“I just…” He exhaled sharply, kissing his teeth and tilting his head. “I think I prefer you in sweatpants is all.”

“Mmhm- I think I prefer you in nothing at all.” YN rolled her eyes, allowing their banter to slide off her shoulders. He grinned broadly, eyes glued to hers. They glittered with a teasing glint, devilish.

Bucky blinked, realizing he had done the whole show in front of his, soon to be ex, girlfriend. His face flushed with heat, eyes averting to the ground. He cleared his throat, fingers finding the door handle. Holding the door open for the women.

“We’re taking my car, right?” YN asked, digging through her bag for keys. Clarissa scoffed, strutting down the main hallway as Bucky locked the door. Triple checking the system before following.

“As if- we’ll call an Uber or something.” She explained, instantly tapping away on her phone. YN blinked, slowly pulling her keys from her bag. Clarissa barely glanced up at the jingling noise, a mocking smirk on her lips. “But you go ahead, if you want.”

“What’s wrong with her car?” Bucky asked, eyebrows furrowed. Clarissa sent him a foul glare, nonverbally scolding him as her typing ceased. YN’s car was a little dated- an older model SUV but he had seen the vehicle do ninety eight on a highway, while YN ate fries and changed music stations. He was pretty sure it would survive a commute across town.

“You don’t show up at events like a Tony Stark party, driving yourself. Or in a crappy little car. God, I thought you two had done this stuff before.” She replied, annoyed at their lack of knowledge.

YN exhaled behind him, causing Bucky to glance back to her. Her eyes were wide as she rolled them, pursing her lips. Clearly pissed with the blonde. As if he weren’t already confused by his reaction to her earlier, the current situation only made his chest ache more. He wasn’t sure what to do anymore.

“Right… well, you two have fun in a car service, I will be jamming all the way to Stark Tower.” YN grinned, shaking her keys in Clarissa’s face. Shoving past her to the elevator. “See you later, losers.”

Bucky’s chest felt hollow as he watched the doors close, whisking his matching half away from him. He was always less nervous around her, YN calmed his nerves. But tonight, he wasn’t sure if she was helping or not. There were too many emotions, threatening domination over his brain. His body. He was frozen. Panic beginning to set up in his chest at the overstimulation.

Clarissa huffed angrily, curling her arms under Bucky’s. Yanking his close. He could smell the perfume she had applied for the evening- overbearing and headstrong. Clouding his functions.

“Finally- some alone time. Thought we’d be stuck with her all evening.” She complained, cuddling close to Bucky. “Let’s hope she breaks down and doesn’t even make it there.”

“Hey,” Bucky interrupted, finally finding his tongue. It felt numb, his brain was unhelpful. Flashing images of YN before his eyes on repeat. “Don’t talk about her like that, please. It’s not… she’s my best friend.”

Clarissa narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t respond. Instead, exhaling a small ‘hmpf’, letting him off the hook for now. Bucky swallowed, the hard ball of emotion still sitting in his throat. Refusing to move. Choking him slowly. And it was only the beginning of the evening.

~~~~~~

Bucky slinked out of the main room, cursing under his breath. Clarissa’s eyes swept across the expanse of the crowded room, narrowed in search of him. He needed to get a grip on himself- break up with her so he could leave. But he knew she would cause a scene in the middle of everyone.

And if there was anything he tended to avoid, it would be sobbing, hysterical women amongst a crowd of high fluent people.

So he would avoid his girlfriend as much as he could for the time being.

He would also avoid YN, until further notice. It was an odd experience, maneuvering a party without her beside him. It was boring for one, stressful as well. Everywhere he turned, he would run into one of them or Steve or Sam. He thought Stark Tower had more than enough square footage to keep himself separated.

Bucky exhaled sharply, becoming increasingly relieved the further away from the crowds he got. He could finally think again- hear himself at least. His thoughts were moving too fast to even catch drift of what they were about.

He found a quiet corner, at the end of the hallway. Leaning against the wall, head tilted back. He just needed to focus- that was all. He had been thrown off his rhythm earlier and hadn’t had time to gather himself.

But as much as he tried, and concentrated, all he could see was YN. Her bright, infectious smile as he exploded a microwave, raucous laughter as he slipped on freshly mopped floors. Her somber eyes as they shared a cigarette on their fire escape. Why was he thinking like this- he had never thought of her this much. Never like this. He never knew he took in so many details of her.

“Whats going on with you- you’ve been jumpy all night.” An even voice jolted Bucky from his thoughts, eyes flying open. Steve stood before him, staring down curiously into a tumbler of whiskey. “Now here you are, hidden in a hallway. You alright?”

Bucky pushed his hands through his hair, raking it back. Strands falling back into his eyes. So much for his hopes of internalizing problems.

“I don’t know…” Bucky admitted, watching Steve lean on the wall opposite of him. The blonde remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t really know where to start. “I’m breaking up with Clarissa.”

“Really.” Steve’s eyebrows raised, faux astonishment lacing his words. “Here I thought you were getting married. You two seem to love each other so much.” Bucky rolled his eyes, scoffing at the man’s sarcasm. “Everyone could see it Bucky. You two didn’t exactly keep arguments quiet. Doesn’t help that you’re out here while she’s in there at a party. Alone.”

“I… I just thought that if I was in a relationship it would… make me feel normal? Like I used to. Or maybe it would distract me.” Bucky reasoned, exasperated at himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching. “As many women I’ve dated by now- none of them stick around for long.”

“Except YN.” Steve interrupted, knocking back a third of his glass in one go. Bucky’s eyebrows marched together, furrowing in confusion. “She’s stuck around longer than anyone else.”

“I’m not… we aren’t dating.” Bucky stammered, warmth creeping up his neck. Body heating up uncomfortably in the stuffy suit he wore. Steve’s brow lifted, the corners of his lips tugging into a frown. “YN- she’s… my best friend. That hasn’t changed.”

“It’s clear your feelings for her have.” Bucky’s face felt even warmer, the words fueling the fire under his shirt collar. “I’m not one to tell you how to live but I wouldn’t waste any more time on worrying. She could be long gone by the time you get your head out of your ass.” Steve shoved his glass into Bucky’s hands, slapping his shoulder as he passed. “Knock that back. Wouldn’t hurt to have a little liquid courage.”

“I won’t even feel it, punk.” Bucky felt his lips pull into a grin, the first of the night. Steve shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. Glancing over his shoulder at his old friend.

“Eh, placebo effect.” He grinned, the smile Bucky remembered from long ago. That shit eating grin that would get them both into trouble. “Go get em, tiger.”

Bucky took a deep breath, watching Steve’s retreating back. He didn’t even question his friend’s new knowledge of relationships. It was probably better not to ask, anyways. He did as directed, throwing the liquor back, the burn at the back of his throat a mere tickle.

A plan. He needed a plan.

Bucky slipped the tumbler glass onto a nearby table as he ducked back into the crowded party scene. First step was to find Clarissa. If he was lucky, she would be in a private area. They could do this quietly.

His eyes scanned the tops of partygoers heads, looking for tall blonde women. Finally laying eyes on her standing near the bar. Making a beeline toward her.

“Clarissa-“ Bucky slipped into the empty place beside her, hand holding her elbow and tugging her away. “I think we need to talk.”

“About what, Bucky?” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You bringing me here after several occasions you ditched me for, then when we get here, you avoid me. I don’t know what I did to deserve this from you but I don’t think it’s fair.”

Bucky swallowed, guilt pooling in his chest. Her eyes would be full of irritated fury if he looked up, he could picture them. Feel them burning into his skin. Branding him in scarlet ink. But he did it anyways- locking eyes with her. Not backing down.

“This doesn’t work. I’m sorry.” He stepped back, pleading silently that she would accept it. Agree with it and move on.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Clarissa hissed, nails sinking into his flesh wrist. Bucky clenched his jaw. His teeth grinding at the unannounced touch. “You just string me along for weeks then make an idiot out of me at a party?”

“Well that last part is up to you.” He responded coolly, voice at a low, steady murmur. Her olive green eyes melted holes into his skull. The anger rolling off her body in waves. “We Can act civically or you can have a tantrum on the floor. It’s only going to embarrass you.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” She spat, face going red. Bucky exhaled, a content smile on his face. It seemed to only make her more upset. Steam practically blowing from her ears.

“Have a nice night, Clarissa.” Bucky slipped his wrist from her weak hold, turning away. Not daring to look back. His eyes set on a new target. One who stood amongst a group of what looked to be cadet agents, who all looked mildly impressed and disgustingly horrified at the same time.

“There’s always several easy ways to deal with this when you’re on the field, though- and it will happen at least once so prepare for it now because you will be caught off guard when there’s a giant - oh hey.” Bucky interrupted her supposedly crude story with a small gesture, turning to speak quietly with her. Sighs of relief fell from the lips of the cadets, managing to slip away with the distraction of the super soldier as cover.

“You wanna get out of here?”

YN hummed, eyebrows scrunching as she gave it short contemplation. After a few moments, she nodded with a tilt of her head.

“I could eat.”

~~~~~~

“Sorry I pulled you away from our fancy party.” Bucky stated, breaking their quiet solitude. YN shrugged, licking stray sauce from her thumb. He frowned, pulling one of their napkins from his pocket, taking her wrist and wiping her hand off.

“We’re sitting outside a twenty four hour grocery store at midnight eating hot wings. How much fancier can you get?” She grinned, swiping the napkin from between his fingers.

Bucky’s smile was soft, as he watched her devour another wing. He took a bite of his own, observing cars drive past them. No doubt questioning why two people dressed in extremely fancy clothing were sitting on a curb eating chicken. He couldn’t blame them- he would be curious too. But he truly couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Not when his heart beat so fast it could burst from his chest at any moment. Bucky ran sentences through his mind, desperate to find an opener. Some way to start. He couldn’t just blurt it out- could he?

“You know- I’ve traveled all over the place. You just can’t beat New York Buffalo hot wings.” YN commented, sipping her drink. Bucky chuckled distractedly, only half listening.

“You ever think about slowin’ down some day?” He asked, twisting his napkin into a tight spiral.

Yn didn’t bat an eye at the sudden change of topic. It happened so often with them it didn’t phase her at all. She hummed, leaning her forearms on her knees.

“Eventually I’ll have to. Old age and such. What about you?”

Bucky sighed, copying her stance. His eyes scanned the parking lot, watchful. Wary. Paranoid.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin-“ He admitted, tilting his fingers. The streetlight gleaming off the obsidian metal. Gold veins glimmering between plates. “I never thought I would make it this far.”

“Makes two of us pal.” A low chuckle escaped as she responded. Her lips pulled to the side, eyes downcast to the gravel. A rush of heat flooded his system at her words. Jaw clenching tightly.

Bucky knew she struggled, she would tell him of her time in foster homes in her teen years on late nights. He knew she was in a better place now but it didn’t stop the anger he felt, the rage and sadness that washed over his already overstimulated neurons when she spoke like that.

It took everything in him not to track the bastards down and take care of them. But it wasn’t his choice. He wouldn’t do that to her. Not to the woman who put up with his shit, twenty four hours a day. Who cared enough for him to make sure he ate and slept. Made sure he felt cared for. Kept him alive most days.

Bucky’s eyes cut over, peeking at the woman. Even in the low light of the street, an ethereal glow of neon from the buzzing window signs casting shadows across her features, she was gloriously, imperfectly, beautifully… her.

The decision was made.

“You know I’ve always got your back, right?” Bucky mumbled, watching a smile grace her lips. Eyes meeting his. It was the closest thing he could get to an ‘I love you’ for now. It would have to do.

“Always.”

He would love her until his dying breath.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

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heytherejulietx · 3 years ago

Text

suspect - richie tozier

↳ based on a headcanon that me and @violetblvd came up with because we have big brains :)

↳ content warnings - swearing, brief depictions of depression, aged up losers, mostly just fluff though

↳ 2.6k word count

masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @mikewheelerc @whaddyam3an @justanotherkpopstanlol join my tag list

“are you okay? you weren’t at the clubhouse earlier, i missed you.” y/n could practically hear richie’s pout through the phone as he spoke. he always spoke in the same almost-whining tone whenever he pouted. it was adorable, really.

it wasn’t often that she skipped out on spending time with the losers. most of the time they were the reason she left the house, aside from school. they were found family and she spent as much time with them as possible. and richie, she could barely ever resist time with him. they had been dating for well over a year, and basically spent every day together. and most nights, when richie snuck in through her window.

though y/n had been feeling off recently. she had times when she’d distance herself from others, not because anything had happened, but because she just felt down and unhappy. and over the past few days she’d been feeling worse and worse. really, she knew that even if she just saw richie it would make her feel so much better. but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house unless she had to. it just seemed like too much effort that she didn’t have the energy for.

“sorry, i meant to call and say i wasn’t going. i didn’t really feel like it today.” y/n responded, and leaned back against the wall beside the phone.

“are you okay?” richie repeated, and she could hear the worry in his tone.

“i’m okay, rich, i promise. i just needed some time alone today.” she said softly, twisting the phone cord between her fingers as she spoke.

“alright, but you know you can call if you need anything right?”

“i know,” she smiled softly at his thoughtfulness. “i’ll call if i need you, I promise.”

“alrighty. i gotta go, stan is glaring at me to get off of his phone,” richie snickered and she could then briefly hear stan complaining in the background. “i love you.”

“i love you too, rich.”

once she had hung up the phone y/n sighed, frowning a little. she knew that richie could tell that something was up. he was the only person she saw when she felt like that, and he could easily tell the difference in her behaviour. on days when he’d see her feeling down he would be sweeter and more gentle. richie would run her a bath and wash her hair or order her food (he tried cooking for her once but almost set fire to her kitchen), or he’d just lay with her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. she really appreciated how much he cared for her, especially when she needed him the most. the thought of how much he cared for her made her want to see him more and she frowned, knowing that she’d have to wait until tomorrow.

y/n found herself back upstairs in her bedroom after she had something to eat. it was nearing seven in the evening, though despite the time she decided to just try and sleep in the hopes of feeling better when she woke up. she stripped off her clothes and pulled on one of richie’s many t-shirts that she kept at her house. originally he had brought them there in case he ever wanted to stay the night to wear something else in the morning, but most of the time she wore his clothes for bed. when richie first noticed her wearing his clothes he seemed pretty fond of it himself, which only encouraged her to do it more.

the weather had started warming up recently so y/n kept her window open as she climbed underneath the covers of her bed with a sigh and settled herself against the pillow, attempting to get comfortable. she just started drifting off to sleep half an hour later when she heard a tap at her window.

y/n scrunched her eycbrows together a little, at first thinking maybe she’d just made the noise up in her sleepy state. like when you think you’re falling right as you start going to sleep. though at the next tap, which was considerably louder than the first, she rolled over to see what it was and was met with doe eyes and a goofy grin. of course.

his grin grew as he reached his hand out to pull her window all the way open so he could climb into her bedroom. y/n couldn’t hold back a quiet giggle as he did a stupid somersault across her windowsill which caused him to land on her floor with a thump, and narrowly missed whacking his head on her bookshelf.

“rich,” she giggled, as she propped herself half-up on her elbow. “what’re you-“

“crrch,” he cut her off by mimicking the static sound of a walkie talkie, not rising from the floor. “i have snuck into the suspects bedroom, i repeat i’m in, crrch.” he held his hand up to his mouth like he was actually holding a walkie talkie, and with his free hand he slipped his backpack off of the one shoulder he had it slung over. it landed on the floor beside him before he started slowly moving across her bedroom floor, like he was making a very poor attempt at not being seen by her.

“crrch, suspect has a very pretty bedroom, safe to assume she’s also very pretty, crrch.” y/n giggled quietly as she leaned up a little to see him.

as she laughed he almost theatrically whipped his head up to see her and his eyes widened, feigning shock as he stood up so quickly that he almost lost his balance altogether. she could see in his eyes that he wanted to laugh. he always wore the same exact expression when he was truly entertained; to be honest she was surprised he hadn’t burst into laughter yet.

“crrch she’s seen me! oh god i’ve been caught!” she started laughing as he shouted, holding his free hand out with his fingers out like a gun. “crrch oh god! she’s so adorable it hurts! she’s giggling! oh she’s so pretty!” he gasped and she held her own hand out like a gun as he did. “fuck she’s armed! she has a gun crrch!” y/n laughed as he groaned dramatically, his hand flying to cover his chest as he attempted a poor act of being hurt. “i’ve been shot!”

richie dramatically stumbled over towards her bed where he finally toppled over right on top of her and fell with his back against her stomach, groaning again with his hand still clutching his chest.

“i have a wife and kids and you shot me-“ he started shouting dramatically before she clasped her hand over his mouth to get him to shut up, still laughing herself.

“you’re gonna make my parents hear you asshole.” she giggled, and sat up to see him better which left him laying across her thighs instead.

“hey, you’re the one that shot me,” he mumbled underneath her hand, and when she removed it he was grinning despite still trying to feign hurt. “you’re lethal.”

“do you want me to kiss it better, richie?” y/n raised her eyebrows, amused.

“oh please my darling that would be delightful!” he grinned up at her as he spoke in his terrible british accent, and she laughed again as she looked down at him.

“okay,” she giggled. “where are you hurt?”

“right here.” he smirked up at her as he pointed to his lips.

“in the mouth?”

“yeah, you’re really violent.” he snickered.

“if i shot you in the mouth why were you holding your chest-“

“oh just shut up and kiss me.” richie complained and y/n giggled as she leaned down towards him, smiling against his lips as they met. she felt his hand lift to rest on her cheek and his touch felt warm against her skin. she practically melted into him with a quiet sigh against his mouth. y/n seriously underestimated how much she needed to be with him earlier.

when she leaned away from him he was grinning up at her still, and his hand was no longer resting over his chest.

“all better?” she teased, and lifted her hand to reach down and ruffled his mop of curly black hair.

“yep, good as new toots. you should be a nurse,” richie leaned up to leave another kiss against her lips before he sat up completely so he was no longer laying across her. “now that i’m all better, i guess i have to finish what i came here to do.” he sighed dramatically, though he had his up to no good smirk on as he turned to face her.

“kill me? rich i don’t-“ y/n started, though cut herself off with a laugh when he turned and slipped his hands under her shirt to tickle his fingers across her ribs.

as she started to squirm away from him he moved to kneel over her, and as his knees bracketed her thighs she couldn’t go anywhere. asshole.

“richie-“ she gasped through her laughter, her attempts at pushing his hands away doing nothing. “okay okay you got me! you got me!” she laughed, and still kicked her legs even though it did nothing with where he was sat over her.

richie was grinning down at her, wearing his smug look that made her want to either smack him or kiss him, depending on what he was doing. after another moment of y/n’s attempted complaints through her laughter richie moved his hands from her sides, and instead held her hands down against her pillows as she giggled with the ghosting of his tickles.

“you’re an asshole,” y/n giggled, her face flushed red as she looked up at him. she felt his fingers interlock with hers as he pushed hers down against her pillow and she squeezed his gently, despite still lifting her leg to knee him in the back. “that was mean.” she pouted, poorly holding back her smile.

“i just wanted to make my best girl laugh,” he sighed dramatically. from where he was kneeling above her his hair had fallen in front of his eyes, curly black strands laying across his forehead in a way that made him look so pretty. richie was hot, everybody knew richie was hot, richie knew richie was hot. so usually if she complimented him it didn’t seem to phase him. though whenever she called him pretty he’d go a little pink, almost bashful. it made her always want to call him pretty. “plus i missed you today, i needed to make up for not annoying you earlier. i took it out on stan instead, i think he even grew some grey hairs.” he snickered.

y/n rolled her eyes, though found herself smiling softly again when richie had leaned down to kiss her. his hands squeezed hers, still pressed up into the pillow, and she felt him smile against her lips that time. he pulled away only for a moment, his eyes meeting hers as he smiled, before he leaned back in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. and then to her other cheek. and then her nose. he was relentless, pressing kisses all over her face until she had scrunched up her nose and giggled, shaking her head to get him to stop when his hair started tickling her face.

“you’re so pretty.” richie smiled down at her when he leaned back again, and y/n flushed pink as he left a more gentle kiss to her lips before he pulled back, and let her hands go as he sat up properly.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” she mumbled, and giggled as he poked her sides.

“is this mine?” richie tugged on the shirt she was wearing, and his hand smoothed it out across her stomach to see whatever pattern was printed over the front of it. “i’m flattered that you find my fashion sense so inspiring, sweets.”

“if you leave your stuff here i’m going to wear it.” she pointed out, and he chuckled against her lips with the next kiss he gave her.

“hey, i brought you some stuff.” like a lightbulb switched on in his head to remind him why he was there, y/n watched as he jumped off of her and went over towards his backpack on the floor. richie lifted it up and sat it on the bed in front of her, and after fishing around in it for a moment (richie had tons of junk and trash in his backpack since he could never clear it out) he pulled out two cans of coke, a chocolate bar, and some trampled flowers that looked suspiciously like the ones her mother grew in their front garden.

deciding not to comment on the flowers, y/n smiled softly as she looked up at richie and sat up properly. “rich you didn’t have to get me anything.” she said softly, and reached out to take his hand.

“i know, i just wanted to get you something since you seemed a little down on the phone.” richie smiled softly as he gently squeezed her hand.

he probably knew that she felt more than just a little down, and he probably knew exactly how she was feeling as he’d witnessed it before. but y/n appreciated his thoughtfulness nonetheless. she appreciated that he didn’t make a big fuss of it like some other people would, and was just there for her instead.

leaning over the pile of things on her bed y/n let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his middle, murmuring a “thank you“ before she kissed his cheek. his arms wrapped tightly back around her, and y/n almost relaxed completely when she felt his lips press a kiss to her temple. soft moments like that where richie didn’t feel the need to be loud and brash meant so much to her. it was lovely to be with him in such a soft and vulnerable way. she got to see a side of him that nobody else did.

once they had moved the gifts from richie onto her bedside table and his backpack returned to its place on the floor, richie slipped his shoes off and got into the bed beside her with y/n tucked against his side. one of his hands were on her back underneath the shirt as his fingers traced delicate patterns across her back, and his other was clasped with one of hers resting on his stomach. y/n had her eyes closed with her ear to his chest, and as she listened to his heartbeat she could’ve sworn that everything was perfect for one shining moment.

“thank you.” she whispered after a moment, and squeezed his hand lightly with his own.

“it’s no problem, angel. i just thought you’d appreciate some chocolate-“

“no, not for that,” she shook her head as she smiled softly. “for making me feel better.”

richie didn’t say anything in response at first, and instead she felt his lips press a lingering kiss to the top of her head. she smiled softly, growing more tired the more relaxed he got her.

“all in a days work.” he mumbled along with another kiss and she smiled briefly, though was on the verge of falling asleep. completely relaxed in richie’s arms, she drifted off with a smile on her face feeling the best that she had in a week.

#amber’s writing #richie tozier #richie tozier x you #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier fluff #richie tozier imagine #it fanfiction #it fic #it chapter one #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it chapter two

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rwrights · 3 years ago

Text

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE | YELENA.

pairing : yelena x fem!reader

summary : yelena was finally on her hunt for clint and you did everything you could to protect him.

contents : angst ( ?? ) happy ending :D

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, cursing, multiple murder attempts, memory of nat’s death stfu

NOT PROOFREAD.

a/n : this is just fanfiction, pls dont hurt me TT

“can you let me do things my way? your tactics are getting irritating..” yelena hissed on the phone. “okay, i’m sorry – i’m trying to help you. but by all means, this is personal and this is your mission.” valentina replied through the phone, smiling to herself. “i’m gonna go now, you’re distracting me.” the russian said before ending the call. “wait, i–”

the girl sighed to herself as she laid down on the uncomfortable motel bed. she’s been on this mission for days and she still hasn’t gone anywhere close to getting her target.

yelena was finally on her hunt for clint. she’d been struggling as clint was retired once again and barely left his safe-house, or just his house. but valentina let her know that he was going to take a trip to morocco to sort final things out – he made sure his trip was as far away from his family as possible because the whole reason for his retirement was to ensure his family’s safety.

“дерьмо (shit), this is so tiring..” she’d been in morocco for three days and hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her sister’s ‘killer.’ she was beginning to think it was hopeless - but the grief and rage was all she needed to endure. she wasn’t going to stop until she finished what she was yet to start.

she went over to the window closest to clint’s supposed room, she took a peek and still had no luck. it was getting tiring for her, missions like this usually took no less than a day. it was almost as if clint knew someone was after him and the harder it was for yelena, the more impatient she got.

she put on her coat and stuck a pistol into her holster. she left her room to go into town - mainly because she was getting hungry and the food at the motel wasn’t as edible as she hoped. she wrestled through a crowd of locals trying to sell the obvious tourist souvenirs.

she reached a small stall away from the crowds, it was pretty empty and quiet. exactly what she needed, “Sultat alkusks walqahwat min fadliki (Couscous salad and coffee, please),” she spoke to the vendor before taking a seat. she looked around and she could count the people she saw with her fingers on one hand. she waited patiently for her food arrive and thanked the vendor once she received it.

she was eating happily while checking her surroundings every 5 seconds, she was paranoid and rightfully so. she'd already memorised the faces of the people around her. there was a middle aged woman at another stall, selling similar food. there was a small group of young children playing football. a man on the side, smoking a cigarette and a girl drinking what looked like coffee. she couldn't get a clean glimpse due to the cap she was wearing and the angle of her head. yelena quickly finished her food and left, not forgetting to leave a little tip.

she kept looking over her shoulder and listened for footsteps, she kept her hand on her holster and walked as fast as she could until she reached a crowd. once she did, she let out a sigh of relief before finding her motel. she rushed into her room and locked the door. she didn’t actually know what she was running away from, but she felt unsafe – like there was someone on her tail. she saw it was getting late, and took a peek out of her window to see if clint was to be seen, but once again, no luck. she groaned before deciding the best idea was to rest.

––––––

a few days later, yelena still had no luck. she was starting to think val set her up for a nought mission, until she saw clint speaking to a few men from afar. the russian jumped up in excitement and ran across the room to grab her gun, but once she reached the window – he was gone. cursing under her breath, she ran out, but not before she made sure to have her weapons. she threw a cap over her head and ran to where she saw him last, she found his familiar head and starting following him. she was close! she was so, so, close. she was about five feet apart from him until a crowd suddenly flooded the area and vehicles were driving through this apparently busy road.

“excuse me! i’m sorry, excuse me!” she said while pushing through the crowd, but she already lost him. “b`lyad'! (fuck!),” she yelled, frustration taking over her. nevertheless, the ran in the direction she last saw him. "eafwan hal ra'ayt hadha alrajulu? (excuse me, have you seen this man?)“ she asked a few passerbyers while showing them a picture, but they all replied with the same, no.

frustration within yelena grew as the mission felt way too long, and almost impossible.

“valentina, if this is one of your sick jokes, it’s not funny! i’m tired and it's been going on for way too long!” she yelled into the phone, her accent sounding more aggressive as val only heard the anger in her voice. even then, the woman on the other side had a smug look on her face. “relax, my child. you can take your time – but i promise you, he’s there and you can do it. i have no more information on him and his plans, but believe me when i say.. it will be easier for you tomorrow.” she replied.

“if you’re bullshiting me–” yelena began, but was cut off by the older woman. “i’m not, sweetheart! trust me on this, now i have to go. have fun!” she cheered before ending the call. yelena groaned before stepping out of her room and heading to the roof. there, her sniper was laid out and was pointing right into clint’s room. she laid down and looked into the lens. she saw people walking around and selling, through the crowd there was no sign of clint.

she had snipers set in different places, different points in which she knows he’s gone. her plan was to kill him where there weren’t that many people, she didn’t want to cause a commotion even when the sight of a dead body would be more than a commotion.

–––––

it was the day valentina said would be easier for yelena.

she had woken up early and had her eye out for any sight of clint. at around 6 am, he was out and rushed himself into a car. she had been following him from then and was led out to where he was having a meeting with several different men. she was hiding out in a building opposite the one he was in. they were in a more isolated area, everything looked almost abandoned – which was perfect for her plan.

she had her target set on clint’s head. her finger was rested on the trigger, he kept moving around and yelena had to wait for a perfect shot or else she would kill the other men in the process. she saw clint talking and running his hand through his hair in frustration, in which he stopped moving. a small smirk was placed on yelena’s face as her fingers pressed into the trigger – but as soon as she was about to pull it, a bullet shot straight through the building she was in, her floor, and exactly 8 inches away from her head. she got down immediately and looked at the bullet that was shot through the wall next to her. “what the fuck?!” she exclaimed at herself, she cautiously got up and used the optical lens of her sniper to observe her surroundings, and as she expected she found nobody – even better, clint and his mates were nowhere to be found. “bullshit!” she yelled.

–––––

the day after, she had still successfully followed clint to, once again, another isolated area. but this time, she made sure to check her surroundings before focusing back onto clint. “stop moving…” she whispered to herself, not wanting to hurt anyone else in the process.

“got you.” she said in victory, her finger was placed on the trigger - just as she was putting pressure onto it, someone kicked her away, causing yelena to grunt as her back hit the wall. “what the fuck?!”

a girl stood in front of her – the same girl she saw at the food vendor’s. “who are you?!” she asked, placing her hand on her holster. the girl smiled, shaking her head. “hmm, that’s not a good idea. i’m not here to hurt you, i’m just here to make sure you don’t hurt anyone.”

“ah, eto piz`dets.. (ah, this is fucked up..)” yelena whispered to herself in frustration. “look, i’m here on a mission and actually, you should just walk away and pretend this never happened.” she stood up and grabbed her pistol. she pointed it at you and walked towards you while you walked backwards in alert. “the man i’m targeting killed my sister, this just seems like a fair kill, don’t you think?”

the girl in front of her sighed, she remembered what clint had turned to after the blip. she understood why she felt like what she was doing was right, but clint was her friend – her only father figure. she knew he’d changed for the better, he’s who he really is now. and because of it, she wouldn’t stop to protect him.

“i.. i’m sorry. i know how much pain you must be feeling right now.. and there’s nothing i can do or say to justify his actions – but please. he’s a better man now, he is a good man.” she explained with a hand out, trying to get yelena to lower her weapon. the russian scoffed in disbelief, “a good man? how is the man who caused my sister’s death a good man?”

she had no direct answer, she felt as if whatever she did would set the latter off. “he took care of me, he has a family, he was falling apart, his family was taken from him – he felt like what he was doing was the only way.” she explained, trying to walk towards the girl in front of her while yelena’s grip on her gun tightened. “don’t come any closer.” she warned.

“what’s your name?” she asked, trying to calm her down. “i don’t think that concerns you,” yelena replied angrily. she was tired, whoever this girl was – she was playing games. she was distracting her. she had one goal and one goal only, and that was to eliminate clint barton.

“i’m y/n, i’m from brooklyn, but i was originally from y/c.” you started with your hand still out. “i was taken away from my family when i was 4 and was trained to.. hurt people since i was 7.” the two of you were walking in circles, yelena still not letting her guard down. she had a stoic expression on her face, as if your backstory was the least of her worries – which they were.

“what are you trying to do? make me feel bad for you?” she asked, scoffing. “well i’m sorry, my sense of sympathy and basically every other emotion was taken away from me when i found out i lost my sister.”

“what was your sister’s name?” you asked, taking another step towards her. “as i’ve said, it does not concern you.” she hissed back, her finger hovering over the trigger. you knew how long clint needed and all you had to do was hold her out for a little bit longer. “well.. i’m sure she was lovely. and i also think she wouldn’t have wanted you to do this–”

“you don’t know what she wants!” she screams, her finger so close to pulling the trigger. you froze and put your hands up in the air, you were so sure she was going to shoot you, but if that’s what it took to keep clint safe – even for a little bit longer, you would take that risk. “no, i don’t. i’m sure this will bring you some sort of.. relief? but the man you’re targeting has three children. he has two beautiful boys and one beautiful girl.” the both of you circled around once more, with your hands still in the air. “this is getting tiring, i’m here for one thing and one thing only. you’re only making it harder, so i’m sorry, but i’m gonna have to do this.”

just as she was about to shoot you, you stepped aside and charged at her.

she grunted as her back hit the floor. you flipped her wrist, causing the pistol she was holding so tightly to go flying. “my god, this is bullshit!” she yelled before flipping your positions and slamming you onto the floor. her hands reached for your neck and applied pressure onto your throat. your face was going pale as you struggled against her. you eagerly looked around and saw your weapon an arms length away from you.

you elbowed her side, causing her to groan before flipping her over with your legs. she let go of your throat as you slammed your fist into her face. you felt her reaching into her legs for what you assumed was a small knife – and unfortunately for you, your suspicions were confirmed as she stuck the knife into your side. “fuck!” she pulled it out before knocking you aside. “i’m sorry,” she whispered before slamming her elbow into your temple.

you saw black for a second before waking back up and seeing yelena holding her sniper. you grabbed your pistol and shot by her wall, making sure to miss her. you slid to her and pushed her down once again, your elbow met her cheek repeatedly as she struggled under you. she reached into her vest, failing to get whatever she wanted to. instead, a picture that looked like it was from a photo booth fell out, catching your attention. you stopped attacking her as you held the picture in your hands, “..nat?”

defensively, she snatched the picture out of your hands, not forgetting to punch you after. “don’t! fucking touch my things–”

“you’re yelena?” you asked, ignoring the fiery pain in your cheek. she looked at you in shock, not understanding how you knew her name. “how.. how do you know that?!”

“you’re nat’s sister?” you asked, weakly. the pain in your side was becoming unbearable, but you felt as if nothing mattered until she answered your question. “how do you know natasha?”

“why are you coming after clint?” you replied with another question. “did you not hear me?! he killed her! why are you defending him when you claim to know my sister?!” she yelled at you angrily, shoving your chest. “what? where are you getting this from? clint.. clint didn’t–”

“before you start to make some bullshit up, i’m going to stop you. i don’t know who the fuck you are, but–”

“i was nat’s best friend.. along with clint.” you replied quietly, thinking about the information you’re processing. the latter laughed at you bitterly, “if you’re both her best friends, why did clint kill her? and why are you defending him?!”

“because that’s just it, clint didn’t kill nat, yelena..” you explained, sliding back, already knowing she was going to burst out in anger. “you’re full of bullshit–”

“natasha died in vormir. her and clint went to retrieve the soul stone, but they had to..” you coughed before going on, knowing how this could affect her, “a soul for a soul, were the only words stuck in clint’s head for days. in order to get the stone–”

“one of them had to die..” yelena finished your sentence looking down at the floor. “then why wasn’t it clint?” she asked, looking up at you for answers.

“he.. he jumped first, but.. nat went after him. clint tried holding onto her, but nat pushed herself off.” you looked away from her, the sudden information coming out of you made you remember what you felt when you all came back from retrieving the stones. seeing clint without your favorite russian, it brought you instant panic and you broke down immediately. tears started forming in your eyes and not long after, you were silently sobbing. “i’m so sorry, yelena.” you began, hiding your face in your hands.

yelena looked at you in complete shock. she fell onto her knees as she started crying herself. the both of you sat down crying together for what felt like hours – and you did stay there for hours. the sun went down and you were still both sitting in your positions – an evident distance between the both of you. in those hours, you still continued to lose blood, but you tried putting up with it. your eyes were finally drifting down and you sudden silence and lack of movement caught yelena’s attention.

“..y/n?” she called out, not hearing a response, she rushed to your side and immediately checked your pulse. “fuck,” she cursed, feeling how your pulse was barely there. she pulled you into her arms and rushed into her vehicle. she put you in the backseat and she quickly drove back to her motel. she carried you into her room and placed you carefully on her bed. she rushed to get the first aid kit she packed, she grabbed what she needed and started to fix you up, cursing to herself remembering it’s what she did that got you in this position.

she sat down on the chair next to her bed, eagerly waiting for you to wake up. yelena found herself asleep as you woke up in the morning. you groaned once again at the pain in your side, but silently gasped as you saw you were patched up. you looked around in the unfamiliar room and saw the girl you were crying with yesterday. you sat up hesitantly, the pain in your side still being fresh. you crawled over to her side and tapped her softly, even then, she grabbed the pistol next to her and aimed it at you before seeing it was just you. “oh my god, i’m sorry – it’s just second nature.” she replied, putting her gun down.

“um, are you alright?” she asked, gesturing to her side. “yeah, yep, thank you.. for fixing me up.” you awkwardly replied, giving her a small smile. the both of you sat in silence for a minute before you cleared your throat and started to sit up. “i’m gonna go–”

“no! don’t!” yelena immediately grabbed your arm to stop you from getting any further. “you’re still recovering.. and i swear i won’t go after clint. he should be safe,” she explained, looking eager. you weren’t trusting her, but you felt as if, if you went, you’d pass out on the way. “alright.. just, please don’t kill me. i haven’t gone to tokyo yet..”

surprisingly, your comment made yelena crack a smile. a small, toothless smile. but a smile nevertheless. “hm, okay. i promise.”

you reached into your pocket and found your burner phone. you immediately called clint, to which he answered right away.

“are you insane?! i thought you died!” he scolded through the phone. “i- i know, i’m sorry. i got hurt, but i’m alright now.” you replied, avoiding yelena’s eyes as you felt her staring at you. “where are you?” he asked, obviously worried. “i’m with.. um,” you looked up at her for permission in which she nodded. “yelena. i’m with yelena.”

“nat’s yelena?” he asked. “yes, nat’s yelena.” you replied, playing with your bracelets. “was she–”

“yes, yes, she was.” you knew clint was going to ask if she was the one going after him. you felt as if you didn’t need to say it out loud. “okay, i have one more meeting, then i’m leaving tomorrow. are you coming with me?”

“i don’t think i’m fit to, i’ll stay for a couple days and i’ll be right behind you.” clint hummed in understanding, “alright. i’ll call you later. stay safe, kid.” he said before ending the call.

“you’re staying longer?” yelena asks, chewing on her bottom lip. “uh, yeah. i figure it’ll be best for me to get myself healed before travelling.” you replied awkwardly. you heard her sigh before she speaks up, “i’m sorry.. for hurting you. and trying to hurt clint.”

you looked up at her in disbelief, “what? no! don’t apologize, you didn’t know the whole story and believe me, i would’ve done the same thing.” you tried reassuring her, but yelena wouldn’t look up at you. “hey,” you called out. “it’s okay, really. i’m still awake and clint is fine. the question i should be asking if you’re alright,” she didn’t reply to you, so you crawled closer to her and lifted her face up. her expression grew shocked and her eyes grew wide as she felt your hand on her face and felt how close you were. “your bruises don’t look that bad, you should still get them iced.”

yelena found herself distracted by the sight of your lips. she busted them open, but they still managed to look so pretty. pretty for her. “hey, you alright?” you asked, snapping her back. “oh, what? yes, i’m alright. it’ll heal soon,” she said, trying to dismiss you and get your hands off her face, but your grip grew tighter as you lifted her face back up. you blew into one of her cuts, making the older girl shiver. “i- i swear i’m okay..” she insisted, making you take a step back. “alright, you got it.”

–––––––

you spent the next few days with yelena and grew to understand her. you two got to know each other and realized you had more in common than you either of you thought. she was still pretty distant with you, and you never engaged anything because you were afraid of making her uncomfortable.

but both of you couldn’t hide your attraction for one another. yelena found you captivating and you thought she was charming.

yelena had been dismissing her feelings as she’d never felt any type of romantic feelings before. it was unfamiliar and frankly, she didn’t know if she liked it or not. but the more time she spent with you, the more she grew to accept the fact that she was growing feelings for you.

you were both sitting on her bed, watching a movie that was on cable. there was a painfully huge gap in between the both of you and yelena wanted nothing more, but to break that gap.

slowly and hesitantly, she moved closer to you. you didn’t notice at first, but when you felt her hand brush against yours, you flinched and realized what she was doing.

“lena?” you asked, turning to her. “are you alright?”

her face was merely an inch away from yours as her eyes travelled from your eyes to your lips. “yebat' eto, (fuck it,)” she whispered before placing her hands on your cheeks and softly placing her lips on yours. you instantly reciprocated her actions and pulled her closer than you already were.

after a few seconds of her pillowy lips on yours, you pulled back with yelena eagerly chasing your lips. you smiled as you leaned your forehead into hers. “are you alright?” you asked her sweetly.

“never been better,”

#yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #yelena belova #avengers au #marvel #black widow

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biisexualemma · 4 years ago

Text

tired pt.2. bucky barnes

word count: 2.3k

warnings: violence, mentions of blood

requested: n/a

plot: you get injured during the mission to locate karli

a/n: so this is sort of a part 2 to the winter soldier imagine i wrote! i'm gonna be posting a part 3 soon too, i'm pretty much following each episode lol, this is obviously episode 4, and then next part with follow episode 5! hope you enjoy! i am very much enjoying writing for bucky atm! let me know what you think anyway! (sorry if there are any minor mistakes i cannot read this over again i am tired lol)

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 masterlist

you knew this was a bad idea. any idea that involved trusting zemo was bad. which you had reiterated to your team multiple times now, but here you still were, relying on zemo to get to karli. to top it all off, captain america and his nosey sidekick had found you guys, somehow, and invited themselves to tag along. too much toxic masculinity was floating around in the air when john walker tagged along anywhere, it was suffocating. made you wanna punch him whenever he opened his mouth and that arrogant, condescending tone came out. that, and he was resolved to shamelessly coming onto you whenever he spoke to you. you were sure he only did it so he could feel more in control of the situation. you tried not to let it get to you, but sometimes he was plain insufferable.

bucky already hated walker with every fibre of his being, and he definitely didn't take kindly to his flirting with you either. the only thing holding either of you back from decking walker was sam, and his level head. but you were constantly stealing subtle glances and touches with one another when you could without bringing too much attention to it. you had both decided it would only make things way more complicated during this mission if your relationship was out in the open. there were too many things that could go wrong, you definitely didn't want your relationship to be used against you. so only sam remained in the loop. everyone else was blind to your affection for the super soldier, and his for you.

the blonde haired fraud and his right-hand man, had somehow managed to make everything ten times worse again. you found yourself scouring the building, looking for karli, after mr-i-have-jurisdiction charged into the room where sam had been having a, somewhat productive, conversation with the girl. he barged in there, throwing around hollow threats, like karli would cave and come lightly after everything. he was ignorant and he was an idiot and you could've killed him for screwing up another mission.

you held your gun at arms length, kicking the door open in front of you, edging your way in, eyes scoping the room for any signs of movement. it was empty. you lowered your gun, making your way across the floor to the door leading to the next room. "east wing is clear so far, one last room to check and then i'll circle back to the stair--"

your words caught in your throat as a grunt left your mouth, feeling the blunt impact to the back of your head. you stumbled forwards, clumsily spinning around to see one of karli's super soldiers towering over you, an old pipe gripped in his hand. you quickly lifted your gun to shoot but the bullet hit the ceiling when he swung the pipe, knocking the weapon out of your hand.

you gritted your teeth, your head was throbbing where the pipe had made contact, and now you were weaponless. you ducked swiftly as he swung the pipe at you once again. you dived forwards, trying to catch him off guard and using your full force to tackle him. ordinarily, this would have knocked him off his feet and you would have used the upper hand to locate your gun and seize it before he could recover.

but this guy, unfortunately for you, was far from ordinary. he was significantly stronger than you were.

"all clear, y/n?" sam's voice echoed in your ear through the comms but you were far too distracted by your current predicament to answer him straight away.

"shit," you mumbled under your breath. the man had barely flinched, before switching it on you. before you could retreat, his arms grabbed your torso and you were halted, heaved off of your feet. "i need backup!" you shouted desperately into your comms, hoping one of them would turn up sooner rather than later. his grip was painfully strong as you tried to scramble out of his hold. but, with almost no strain on his behalf, he hurled you across the room, your body slamming into the brick wall and crumpling against the hard floor.

you let out a wheeze, you felt like the air had been knocked right out of you, and you definitely heard something crack. you clutched your side, wincing as you clumsily dodged the blows he threw at you, trying to clamber away from him. you had to pull yourself together, get up and get to your gun before this escalated any further.

you propped yourself up onto your arms, pushing yourself back and away from the super soldier towering over you. "sam, buck," your breathing was laboured as you tried to reach them again, after hearing no response from your initial plea for help. "east wing. i'm unarmed. super soldier with a pipe and a mean swing-- i need backup-- now."

you cringed, sharp pains rushing from your chest the further you dragged yourself away from the soldier. that was when you noticed the gash along his calf, blood soaking his pants. that was your ticket. you waited for him to swing again, dodging it only by a split second, but took your window and kicked as hard as you could at the open wound on his leg. he let out a loud groan, his leg collapsing under the shock of the pain.

you, however, scrambled as quick as you could, onto your feet and ran to the gun sitting on the floor behind him. before you got too far, your legs were swept out from under you as the soldier grabbed your ankle, your face slamming into the concrete floor as you fell. you let out a groan, followed by a soft whimper, blood now pooling from your nose. you desperately stretched out a hand for the gun that was just out of your reach. his grip tightened on your ankle, you felt yourself being hauled backwards before you lunged one last time for your weapon.

your hand clasped around the gun, twisting yourself onto your back, not hesitating to fire at the super-soldier attached to your limb. the bullet fired straight into his shoulder, he let out a shriek of pain, his grip lost on your ankle. you hurried as far away from him as you could on your hands and knees, your breathing shaky and uneven as the adrenaline coursed through you.

you sat still, legs brought up to your chest, your breathing heavy as you watched the super soldier grip his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. you held the gun up, directed at him in case he made any more movements. you were panting, your hand moving to your head, wincing as the throbbing pain started to return, and your comedown ensued.

"oh shit," you heard from the doorway. "shit," he muttered harshly, his footsteps drawing nearer to you. you were preoccupied, the pain was spreading quicker now that your heart rate was slowing down. you felt the sharpness in your ribs every time you took a breath in, ringing in your ears growing louder and the throbbing in your nose intensifying as blood dripped onto your shirt.

you flinched when his hand brushed up against yours, your unsteady hands still gripped tightly around your gun. "hey," he whispered, you only just about heard his soft voice echo over the ringing. you noticed the familiar metal hand grazing yours and your grip loosened, letting him remove the gun from your hand. your eyes trailed up to his comfortingly familiar, blue eyes. you let out a soft sigh of relief, cracking a weak smile.

"took your time," you mumbled, teasingly, trying to ease some of the tension you were feeling. you moved your hand to your mouth, blood transferring onto your fingertips from where it had trickled from your nose onto your lips. you let out a halfhearted, tired, chuckle, your face contorting as the pain in your chest intensified. you were relieved that it was over, and that he had been the one to find you. you let out a strained breath, "i'm gonna need one hell of a drink when this is all over."

bucky, however, was examining every inch of you, his eyes shifting all over you, frowning as he found more blood the more places he looked. he watched your hands shake as you touched your lips, the lump grew in his throat. he knew you were trying to make light of the situation, to ease his mind but he could tell you were hurting, a lot.

he moved his hand to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. his stomach lurched when your eyes met his again, the blood soaking your face was a sight he never wanted to have to see again after today. as impossible as that would be in this line of work. "let's get you fixed up, then we'll see about that drink, alright, doll?" his voice was soft, quiet when he spoke to you. you nodded, reassurance slowly washing over you with his fingers caressing your cheek. his touch was more comforting to you than he'd ever realise.

he dragged his eyes away from yours, over to the super soldier who was still squirming, his hand clamped over the wound in his shoulder. bucky glanced at you for a split second, his expression harder than before. you knitted your eyebrows delicately, noticing the shift in his temper. "wait here," he mumbled, his jaw twitching as he moved away from your side. you felt cold with the loss of contact.

bucky moved to tower over the super solider, his head tilting slightly, not hesitating for even a second as he raised his leg, quickly slamming the heel of his foot against his face. the solider dropped back onto the ground, now unconscious. "stay down," he mumbled under his breath.

"c'mon, we gotta' find sam and zemo first," he ignored your amused expression, helping you onto your feet.

you'd returned to the hotel room now you had zemo in your custody again. zemo was nursing his headache with a glass of whiskey, sam busying himself with something on his laptop, and bucky had pulled you into the bathroom to help clean you up.

"how ya' feelin', doll?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, positioning you so you were seated, while he hovered over you. he busied himself, soaking a cloth in warm water so he could tend to your wounds. you shrugged, lowering your gaze to where your hands sat in your lap, shaking less now you'd had that drink.

"i'll be fine," you muttered, unconcerned with your well being for now. your mind was swimming with thoughts on how you were going to handle the karli situation. no doubt, walker would be knocking around soon too, just to make things harder for you guys, and probably try and twist the story around to make it seem like karli getting away had nothing to do with him.

bucky wasn't convinced by your answer, but he didn't push you. instead, his hand moved to your chin, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your head upwards. you saw his jaw clench before he started to wipe away the dried blood from your face. you flinched when he touched the bridge of your nose, recoiling from his touch. "ow, that kinda' hurt," you admitted.

"suck in your breath," he instructed, his jaw stiff as he spoke. "if i don't clean it up now it'll only get worse," you just nodded, doing as he said. you held your breath, biting the inside of your cheek as he cleaned up the rest of the blood (his spare hand moving to the back of your neck to stop you from pulling away). "all done," you let out your breath, your eyes were watery, a reflex from the sensitivity of your bruised nose. "y'good?"

you nodded, letting yourself fall forward, resting your forehead against his stomach, trying to disguise the range of emotions you were feeling. he let out a sigh, his hand still tucked around the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. "you don't have to keep up this act," he spoke after a while. exhausted, you let him hold you up, relaxing yourself against him. "it's just me."

you sniffled, pulling back to look up at him. he felt his chest tighten at the sight of your bruised face, stinging red eyes and pink cheeks. you weren't often vulnerable with anyone, but you were so worn out from everything going on, and bucky was looking at you in a way that made you feel so safe, you couldn't help but let go a little.

"i'm just tired, buck," your voice wavering. he moved both hands to either side of your face, pushing your hair out of the way. he cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing against your flushed skin. you relished in his touch, comforted by the warmth he was radiating, soothing you. "this missions been hard."

"i know, doll," he hummed, his gaze softening watching you relax against his palms, your eyelids drooping shut. he gulped. "let's get you clean, then you can get some rest."

you hummed softly. "thanks, buck," he took a step back, his hands leaving your face for a second. you hastily moved your hands to his, stopping him from moving further away from you. "no," your voice came out hushed. "just a bit longer," you pleaded, you weren't ready to let go of his comfort just yet.

bucky simply nodded, moving his hands back to either side of your face, letting your head fall against his stomach again. he raked his fingers through your hair soothingly, holding you for as long as you needed. he was just relieved you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him, it meant you felt just as much for him as he did for you.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

Photo

Word Count: 5796 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader Gender: Female Era: The prison Summary: After a close call on a run, the archer explodes at you.

Warnings: Language

Your name: submit What is this?

Another run, another disaster. You needed supplies. What you got was a pile of problems. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and you ended up in a tight spot with far more walkers than you had expected. You were trapped inside a small flower shop with walkers banging on all the exits.

“How many you got, Glenn?” you whispered harshly to him over the banging fists and gnashing jaws.

“Uhh, too many out this way. Maybe twenty. Possibly more.”

“Fuck…” you muttered. You rushed back to Daryl and Maggie who were both leaning against the side door with all their weight to keep it closed. “Too many out Glenn’s way,” you relayed. You sighed and wiped a slightly shaky hand across your sweaty brow. “I—I’m gonna clear out the back.”

“What?!” Maggie snapped, readjusting her back against the door. “You said there were ten walkers out there.”

Daryl shook his head vehemently. “Nah! That’s too many. Ya can’t—”

“We don’t have a goddamn choice! Look, it’s the exit with the fewest geeks, so unless either of you can suddenly come up with a new and brilliant idea in the next five seconds, I’m doing it!” You waited, staring at both of them.

You shook your head. “You’ve gotta keep this door shut with Maggie until the back is clear. She and I won't be enough. I’m going.”

“Wait—Y/N!” Daryl yelled after you but you were already gone, disappearing into the back stockroom. “Son of a bitch!” Daryl was letting fly a lengthy string of expletives and there was panic in his eyes. Maggie noticed the overwhelming distress on his face as her own stomach flipped.

“She’s—she’s a good fighter,” Maggie stammered.

“And she’s too damn impulsive!” Daryl yelled, straining to keep his weight against the door behind them. “If we get outta this, and she makes it, I’mma kill her,” he growled. Maggie gulped.

In the back room you could hear the walkers still on the other side of the door and you steeled yourself, checking the magazine of your pistol and making sure there was a bullet chambered. You unsnapped the loop on top of your knife’s sheath and heaved in a forced breath. Here we fuckin’ go. You unlocked the door, barely opened it, putting your boot in the way to try and hold it open just enough for you to get your knife into the space. But the pressure of the walkers on the other side was too great for you to manage it for long. You stabbed your knife into the temple of the nearest walker pressing its face toward you in the opening and it was immediately replaced with another.

“Can ya hear anythin’?” Daryl asked desperately.

Maggie shook her head. “No! Just hold on,” she urged. Her back was sweaty from exertion and the stuffy air inside the store and she was starting to slide down the door behind her, constantly having to readjust her position to keep her bodyweight against it beside Daryl.

Just then there was a tremendous crash from the back room followed by gun shots. Daryl and Maggie exchanged a desperate look but the walkers outside the door just behind them had obviously heard the noise too and they attempted to surge forward. Daryl’s boots began to slide on the floor.

“We aren’t gonna be able to hold this much longer!” Maggie yelled, straining to press back into the door and hold the flood of walkers at bay. Over the groaning and mawing she and Daryl could hear more bangs in the back room.

Daryl leaned his head back against the door and shut his eyes for a moment. He felt sick, terrified. What if you were—? He couldn’t hear anything else from the stockroom. “Fuck this,” he growled, glancing at Maggie next to him. As if on cue, Glenn showed up and added his weight to the door behind them.

“I got the entrance jammed shut finally. Where’s Y/N?” he asked, incredulous.

“She went to clear the back way out,” Maggie said.

“What?!” Glenn’s eyes went wide.

“We ain’t waitin’ anymore! C’mon. On the count of three we make a run for the back,” Daryl said. “One. Two…”

Right then you emerged from the back room covered in walker blood, sweaty, your chest heaving, and looking completely exhausted. More concerning was a stream of blood pouring down the side of your face from a gash near your hairline. You absently wiped it out of your eye with your sleeve. “It’s clear! Let’s go!” you yelled at the trio, who were all staring at you in bewilderment.

“…Three!” Daryl said, and they threw themselves forward off the door. It immediately flung open and a flood of walkers began to pour in behind you all. “Go, go, go!” Daryl roared. He tossed anything he could get his hands on in their path behind him as he ran.

They leaped over the bodies of fallen walkers and debris as they rushed through the stockroom, but there it was—the back door standing open, sunlight streaming in, free of any biting jaws or clawing hands. Daryl slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the building but there was no telling how long it would hold.

You were all out of breath but had to keep going.

“Let’s get to the van. Now,” Daryl drawled, not even stopping to glance at any of you.

“My God,” Maggie said, looking over at you as you ran. “Your head—are you alright?” she asked you.

You pressed your sleeve to the gash again and nodded. “Yeah. I think so. You know, head wounds always bleed a lot. Looks worse than it is.”

“What happened?” Glenn asked, running beside his wife, one hand on the strap of his pack and the other entwined with Maggie’s.

“When they started coming in, I had to slow them down. They were coming too fast for me to kill. I pulled those shelves down but it was a bit of a domino effect.”

“Ain’t the place for story time,” Daryl snapped over his shoulder. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

You made it back to the van, exhausted, clutching a stitch in your side, your head pounding. You collapsed into the passenger seat as Daryl slid in behind the wheel. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, finally feeling the tightness in your lungs lessen, but you could feel Daryl’s eyes on you and you glanced over. They were narrowed but his expression was unreadable.

“What?” you asked in an undertone.

You thought you saw the muscle in his jaw tense but he simply looked away and started up the van. Soon you were behind the safe, high fences of the prison, climbing out and truly feeling the pain in your head now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Carol and Carl ran to greet you all when you came in. Her eyes clouded with concern as she saw your bloodstained face. “Are you alright?” she asked you urgently, taking your chin gently and turning your head to the side so she could inspect the gash.

“Fine,” you said. “I think. Hurts a bit…”

“I’ll get Hershel so he can take a look at you. I think he’s planting in the garden plot with Rick. I’ll send him up,” Carol said. She paused to give Daryl, who was hanging back, a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and a once over.

You glanced back and he had the same moody expression on his face. It had been a close call for all of you but you couldn’t help but feel like his irritation was directed specifically at you. You tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t suppress the twisting knot in your chest.

Maggie and Glenn broke off to grab some fresh water and Carol went over to talk to Hershel, Carl trailing behind her. That left just you and Daryl heading up to the cell block. The air was tense between you as you crossed the yard but as you stepped into the small common area just outside the cells, it was like it suddenly ignited white-hot.

Daryl threw his bag down angrily on one of the tables and your eyes snapped over to him.

You were a little worried your voice would shake when you spoke. “What’s the matter?” you asked him.

“Are ya shittin’ me?” he challenged you, his chest thrust forward, his eyes now locked on your face.

Your heart started to race and you gulped at the constriction that had suddenly appeared in your throat.

“That was real dumb what ya did back there today!” Daryl roared, pointing an accusatory finger directly at you. His eyes kept flickering up to the gash in your head and his stomach twisted every time. “You’re lucky all you got was that thing on your forehead!”

“What—I—” you stared at him, in shock from his rage. “I got us out of there… I had to.” “Nah. It wasn’t your call to make,” he spat back venomously.

You scoffed. “It was nobody’s call to make, Daryl! We were trapped and we had to get out. We were sitting ducks. Sooner or later they were going to come through the glass up front by Glenn or through that door right behind you and Maggie. I made a choice. And what I did, it didn’t thrust anybody but me right into danger. I can choose to gamble my own life if I want to! Hell, you do it all the time!”

This only seemed to infuriate him more. “Ya ain’t goin’ on runs anymore,” he roared, turning and stalking toward the door that led to the cells. His broad shoulders were squared and rigid.

You let out a noise of disbelief. “That isn’t your decision! And don’t walk away from me! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!”

“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” Daryl spat back over his shoulder.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh! You are so infuriating! What is your problem with me? I haven’t done a damn thing to you and you treat me like I’m a complete waste of space! It’s like I can never do anything right for you, even when I save your ass!”

He spun around and took a few powerful steps back toward you, a scowl on his face, his blue eyes darker than usual. You refused to wilt under it. “This ain’t a shrink’s office, okay? And I sure as shit didn’t sign up for a little feel-good chat. So, why don’t ya leave me alone and go get your damn head stitched up.” He thrust a hand against the back of a nearby chair and it toppled over, echoing harshly in the high ceiling. You watched his broad shoulders shrinking away from you.

“No,” you said loudly, forcefully.

He froze mid-stride and you watched his fist clench and unclench at his side. He slowly turned to face you. “The hell did ya just say?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to back down beneath his intense stair. “I said no. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck your problem is with me.”

His jaw clenched hard and he started back toward you, that familiar stalk and swagger in his gait. “You are my problem. You’re always getting in my damn way!”

You were trying to stay cool, but your confusion and his unwillingness to explain his anger was infuriating. “In your way? What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.” He pointed a finger in your face, standing hardly a foot from you now. “On runs. On hunts. Scavenging. Hell, even around here!” Daryl wasn’t prepared for the flash of hurt that crossed your face. You were always so tough, admittedly one of the things he loved about you. He hadn’t considered that his words might actually impact you so heavily, but he saw it flash in your eyes as plain as day and it snapped him out of his rage and filled him suddenly with regret.

Your brow furrowed and you just stared back at him, unwavering, puzzled, like you were trying your hardest to understand just what he was talking about, scrutinizing every past interaction you’d ever had with the archer, running over the events of the day, trying to decode his harsh words. Daryl would have preferred it if you had yelled back again, even if you had stormed out. But this? This was tying him up in knots inside in a worse way. You just went on looking at him… with that blood all down the side of your face.

And when you did finally speak your tone was so soft, so controlled in contrast to his that it only made him feel worse. Your words were measured. “Well, uhh… Sorry. I guess I’ll just—try harder to stay out of your way.”

And that was it. You just breezed past him and headed toward your cell, the sun coming through the high windows glinting off the shine in your hair before you disappeared. Daryl rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. You worthless piece of shit. Why the hell did ya do that? He cursed himself internally. You’re such an asshole.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night the air was unseasonably cold but despite the chill you were spending the night on the outside balcony of the guard tower during your shift to keep watch. Every so often you shivered in the cold, but something about the bite of the air matched your mood after Daryl had exploded at you the way he had earlier. It was sharp, unexpected.

You still didn’t really understand what he had meant and you couldn’t stop puzzling over it. In his way? What the hell did he mean? Literally? Or did he mean something more… figurative?

The clank of the door behind you snapped you out of your swirling thoughts and you looked over your shoulder to see Rick emerging.

“Hey,” you greeted him, shrugging a little more deeply into your flannel.

“Hey,” he drawled back, coming to lean his forearms on the railing beside you and stare out across the yard. It was quiet tonight. He was grateful for that. “Cold tonight isn’t it?” he mused aloud, glancing over at you. When you didn’t respond and just continued staring into the night his brow contracted. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” your eyes finally snapped to his. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I thought you were supposed to be resting tonight,” you said pointedly. “I can handle the next shift. I’m not tired anyway.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, turning back to let his eyes wander across the perimeter. “Not tired? Even after that run today? Maggie said you all had a close call.”

You nodded. “We did. But we all came back so… about as good a day as any. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed again in agreement. There was a long silence and you could feel some growing tension in it, sensed that Rick was searching for how to say just what he was mulling over. He did finally manage it. “This whole ‘not tired’ thing have anything to do with that fight you and Daryl had this afternoon?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands. “You heard that? I really thought everyone was outside…”

“They were. I just happened to be coming in to clean up a bit.”

You sighed heavily and felt your cheeks redden a little. You put one hand up to your face. “That’s… great…” you muttered.

Rick turned so he was facing you, just leaning on the railing with one elbow now. “I wouldn’t worry about what Daryl said or how he said it…” he drawled. You looked at him like he was insane.

“…you did say you heard him, right?”

Rick nodded. “Oh, yeah. I heard ‘im. But there’s a saying and it truly does apply to Daryl Dixon.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.

“The dog that barks the loudest? That’s the one that’s the most afraid.” Rick watched you puzzling over his words for a moment before you turned back to the night.

“Afraid?” you repeated. “Daryl? He’s like—the most fearless of all of us.”

Rick sighed and followed your lead, again looking out into the darkness. “He is. Until he isn’t. Listen, I’m not making excuses for how he yelled at you. All I’m saying is not to think on it too hard.” He straightened up and pulled off his jacket, holding it out for you. “Take this. It’s cold. I’m gonna take this opportunity while Judith is asleep to also sleep. Let’s hope I didn’t just jinx it. Ya sure you’re alright up here?”

You nodded and slipped Rick’s jacket on. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Alright.” He patted your shoulder kindly before again leaving you alone with your thoughts, possibly even more confused than you had been before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were exhausted by the time you climbed down from the guard tower the next morning as the sun was cresting over the trees. All you could think about was collapsing into your bed. The prison was still fairly silent as you came in, most people still sleeping. You yawned as you turned the corner into the room just outside the row of cells. When you looked up you saw Daryl sitting on one of the tables sharpening some bolts for his bow. You actually froze, before forcing yourself to move out of your falter.

You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed the room, purposefully giving him a wide berth, your head tilted down. When you turned into the cell block you let out an exhale you hadn’t meant to hold. You breezed into your cell and collapsed down onto your bed, hugging the pillow as you sank into it, too tired even to pull the sheet across the doorway. You were asleep the next minute.

Carol was up and found Daryl still in the same place you had seen him, but although he had a bolt in one hand and his knife in the other his hands were still. He seemed frozen there, just glaring into space across the room, obviously in some deep thought.

“Mornin’, Pookie,” she said, ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

He let out a growl and leaned away from her hand before glancing over at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew the look in his eyes. Something was eating him. “What’s wrong?” He let out a non-committal hum and shrugged his shoulders vaguely, his hands suddenly fidgeting endlessly with the bolt between his fingers. “Obviously something,” she prompted him again. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder toward the cell block. “What?” Carol pressed.

He only hummed again and shrugged. “What’re ya doin’?” he asked quietly.

“Just gonna go out and haul some water. Wanna come?” she asked.

He nodded and hopped to his feet, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and sheathing his knife. He followed Carol out into the morning light and trailed behind her as she went to the waterline. As she waited for the bucket to fill she straightened up and wiped the dirt from her hands. “Are you going to talk to me or not? I can tell something is bothering you.”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and thought hard for a moment. He’d hardly slept. He’d laid awake on his bed roll all night, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and tracing them with his eyes over and over in a futile attempt to distract his mind. It didn’t work.

“I just—I screwed up yesterday. Big time. And I—” he shrugged. “I dunno how to fix it. Or if I even can,” he drawled.

Carol watched the turmoil in his eyes. She crossed her arms and studied him. “Is this about the run yesterday? Did something happen out there?”

“Kinda. Not exactly.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that to go on.”

“I just—I said some things yesterday and… they ain’t even really true.” He was staring down at his boots, and in that moment, it struck Carol how boyish he looked.

“We all say things we don’t mean from time to time. You just have to apologize,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re a family here. Family forgives.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up to hers again and he shrugged, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. “Just like that? I dunno. Don’t seem that simple.”

“Daryl, it happens to all of us. We say things out of anger, exhaustion… hunger. Fear.” She stooped to turn off the flow of the water.

“But—when ya’ve said somethin’ and—and, I mean, ya can’t unsay it. Even if ya apologize, whatever ya said is still out there,” he mused. There was a gruff rasp in his throat, the gravel in his deep voice heavier than usual.

Carol sighed and picked up the bucket. “Well, the first question you have to answer for yourself is why you said whatever it was you said in the first place. And just apologize and try to explain.” She watched his expression. He didn’t look any less uneasy. “Just try. See what happens. If it blows up in your face you can come back and let me have it,” she joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched Carol head back up to the prison. He remained standing down by the fence, leaning against it, and wondering how he was going to explain away his outburst at you… wondering if you would, if you could, forgive him.

The truth was that he was terrified of something happening to you, and being helpless as he held the door while you so willingly threw yourself into danger was agonizing. And that fear had come out in a blast directed right at you, with all sorts of unsaid things behind it.

There was a shuffle near the entrance of your cell and you shot awake, sitting partially up on one elbow and barely catching a glimpse of the back of Daryl’s vest as he moved out of view. Had he been standing there looking in at you? Did he need something? You puzzled over it and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were probably just imagining that shuffle. He was most likely just walking by. Just then you saw Rick going past your cell in the opposite direction with Judith in his arms and you jumped up, realizing you were still wearing his jacket. You hastily pulled it off and jogged to catch up with him. “Rick!” He turned. “Hey. Thanks for this,” you said, holding it out to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “You can borrow it anytime you want to take over my shift,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed lightly. “I guess the little one let you get some sleep then, huh?” you asked, fondly stroking Judith’s soft hair.

“She did. I think she’s getting better at this whole sleep thing. Soon she’ll go straight through the night,” Rick said.

“That’s great,” you said.

“Hey, I know you were up all night but… I think there’s a bit of a pile up on the fence. If you’re rested up enough would you mind—”

“No problem,” you said urgently, grateful for a task to distract you. “I’ll get out there right away.” In a few minutes you were down at the fence, a sharp metal rod in your hand. You plunged it into a walker’s skull through the fence and immediately moved to the next one… and the next… Despite the cooler temperatures in anticipation of autumn, you were drenched in sweat. You were grateful for the ability to focus on the heaviness of the metal rod in your hands and the snarls of the walkers separated from you by nothing more than a thin barrier of chain link. It was hard work and you’d been at it a long time.

Maggie was just thinking the same thing and she came to stand beside Daryl, who was also looking out across the yard and seemed to be watching you. “She’s been out there for hours. We should tell her to come in and take a rest. Get somethin’ to eat,” she thought aloud.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed, not looking away from you.

Maggie glanced over at him. “Well, do you wanna go and try to convince her or should I?”

The archer chewed his bottom lip for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll do it.” He headed for the far end of the yard. As he approached, he could see your skin was glistening with sweat in the sun, the hair on the nape of your neck sticking in the heat. He tried to ignore the jump his heart gave and the warmth blooming in his chest as he approached. “Ya keep at it like this you’re gonna drop out here,” he said loudly, trying to make sure you would hear him over the snarls of the walkers.

You spun in surprise, the metal rod hanging along your side, a bit of walker blood and gore dripping off the end. Daryl’s voice was just about the last one you expected to hear. You turned back to the fence and stabbed another walker. “I’m fine,” you said over your shoulder.

“Nah. Ya been out here long enough. C’mon.” You only continued at your grim work, your shoulders tensing as you raised the rod. “Ya deaf or somethin’?” Daryl yelled.

You turned and looked at him again, your expression mostly blank, except for your furrowed brow. “I’m not deaf. I’m—” you sighed and crossed your hands over your chest. “What are you even doing down here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Daryl’s blue eyes looked away for a moment. “What d’ya mean?” He was gripping the chain link in front of him, his fingers poking through.

“I mean, yesterday. Me down here working on the fence is about as out of your way as I could get, Daryl. And now you’re here.”

You watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit it anxiously. “That why you’ve been out here so long?” he asked.

“No, I—Rick asked me to come down and—”

“Mmm. Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his nose inclining a little. “Ya, that makes sense. You’d do anything Rick asked of ya, right?”

You gave him a confused look. His tone was so… odd, almost hostile. “What are you—”

“Yeah, I saw ya earlier. Wearin’ his jacket. Givin’ it back to him…” He felt a swell of jealousy in his chest as he thought of you laughing, your eyes fixed on Rick’s face, light in your eyes.

Your jaw dropped open. “I was—it was cold last night. I was on watch. I was taking over Rick’s shift too and he came up to check on things and left me his jacket… What are—are you—?” You were bewildered. It sounded like Daryl was jealous. What the hell was happening? One day he’s screaming at you to stay out of his way and the next he’s acting like he’s under the spell of a particular green-eyed monster. Daryl scoffed and straightened up off the fence. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Just you and Rick up in the guard tower. Alone,” he growled, flicking his hand in your direction.

“Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on with you?!” you asked, flabbergasted. “Not that this is even relevant or any of your damn business... and Rick’s a good man but I’m not interested in him like that. I don’t know what—”

Daryl interrupted you again. “Uh huh, ya. He is a good man. Only one here now, right?” Daryl spat back.

You were stunned. “Daryl! Daryl!” He had turned away again and started stalking back up toward the prison, but you were now infuriated and let out a frustrated growl before booking it for the gates that would let you get back into the yard.

By the time you made it, he was a good distance ahead of you, out in the middle of the grassy area and you had to run to catch up to him. “Hey!” you yelled, grabbing onto his shoulder lightly. He threw your hand off and spun around, but you were surprised to see that he didn’t look mad anymore. He looked… defeated. But now you were mad. “Are you gonna fucking explain to me what the hell is going on with you?!? I don’t know what to think! One minute you’re screaming at me to stay out of your goddamn way and the next you’re acting jealous because—what, you think I’m fucking Rick? Which, I’m not, by the way, not that it is any of your damn business.” You scoffed. “And just FYI, I don’t appreciate you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do! Now, what the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He stood there in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides, just looking back at you for a long moment, blue eyes narrowed in either a glare or a squint against the Georgia sun. He couldn’t stop looking at the neat row of stitches on your forehead and the dark bruising around them that had developed over night. His stomach twisted every time. He tore his eyes away and stared down at his boots, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I—you’re right.”

“…what?”

He sighed heavily and looked back up, meeting your eyes again. “M’sorry. Ya just—I thought I was gonna lose ya out there yesterday.”

You just continued to stare at him, confusion muddying your expression.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment trying to come up with the right words to explain, to apologize. “Ya scared the shit outta me, pullin’ what ya did. And every time ya go out there, I can’t stop thinkin’ about what if somethin’ happens to ya. And it almost—it’s like I can’t breathe.”

You just stared at the archer, your heart continuing to race in your chest, but not from anger anymore.

“And I know it isn’t fair that I yelled at ya like I did. I was bein’ a jackass. I guess it was just how all that fear… came out. And I didn’t mean how it sounded.” Now that he had started talking it was almost like he couldn’t stop.

“Then what did you mean?” You felt like you were imagining this.

“I meant that…” he licked his bottom lip nervously and his blue eyes met yours. “I couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened to ya.” He studied your expression for a moment, his eyes landing on the soft pout of your lips. “And I was jealous of you and Rick.”

“Daryl, there’s nothing—”

“I know. I know…” he trailed off. “But I was an asshole and then ya were wearing his jacket and smilin’ at him, laughin’, and I just—” He gulped at the restriction in his throat. “I—I wanna be that for ya.”

Your brain still wasn’t entirely registering what he was saying, but the way he was looking down at you was certainly sending jolts of electricity through you. “Be what?”

His eyes flickered between your lips and eyes repeatedly and you felt like you were waiting in anticipation on the edge of something. He shrugged vaguely. “Everythin’. Anythin’ ya need,” he said simply.

“…so, when you said that I’m in your way—?”

“I meant I can’t hardly think of anythin’ but you all the time.” Daryl was quickly losing his courage, nerves starting to take over and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You were looking up at him but he couldn’t read your expression. It was seemingly blank, and finally he was so anxious he started to turn away, but your hand landed on his arm gently and he looked back at the contact of your skin on his before his eyes rose and met your gaze.

There was a small smile on your face and Daryl’s heart leapt even as he tried to prepare himself for disappointment. “Where do you think you’re going?” you asked quietly. He again squared his feet to yours, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Your hand was still on his forearm and it felt like it was sending out radiating waves of heat.

Your smile faded and your expression became more serious. “Everything you just said—is how I feel about you.”

Daryl gulped, feeling suddenly breathless in disbelief. Your hand dropped from his arm, leaving a tingling sensation behind.

“Listen, I’m on watch duty again tonight. First shift. I’ll probably be cold. Why don’t you come keep me company and maybe bring me a jacket,” you said, with a small smile.

Daryl’s heart leapt at the thought of spending so much time with you alone. He nudged his nose up in a nod and was about to leave when he felt your hand on his arm again. You arched up onto your toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, giving him a warm smile, he felt he didn’t deserve. He stood rooted in place in the middle of the grassy field, a hesitant excitement blooming in his chest, as he watched you disappear into the safety of the prison.

#my gifs #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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may-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Because I love you

summary: you move away to get out of a dangerous situation and nat tries to stay away to keep you safe but she can’t and as a result, bad things happen.

warnings: kidnapping, implied sex, gun shot, blood

word count: 2,069

rating: 18+

((feel free to send in any request))

pt 2

masterlist

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

it had been late and you were getting ready to settle down for the night when a loud and rushed knock sounded at your front door. out of curiosity, you rose from your bed, reaching in your nightstand to get a hold of your pistol which was fully loaded before you approached the door. your hand hovered over the handle for a moment, hesitate because it was so late and you were too tired to fight someone but then another softer knock sounded and a gentle voice spoke up.

“y/n?” you immediately recognized her deep raspy voice causing you to let your guard down, letting out a gentle sigh as you unlocked and pulled the door open. “Jesus Natasha, do you know what time it is?” a smirk tugged at her lips despite the ache in her shoulder. “what? you’re not happy to see me?” her eyes flicked down to your gun but she didn't mention it because she knew what you went through before and she knew that you were trying to lay low since.

she hated herself for coming over and putting you in danger but she wanted you and your help. you set your gun down on the table before looking up at Natasha only now seeing the blood that stained her top. “why is it that you only come to visit when you need help?” you uttered out playfully, carefully taking her hand in yours before guiding her to your kitchen.

Natasha shrugged off her jacket, giving you a full display of the dampness on her t-shirt, sitting down on some chair that she pulled out from your dining table. “maybe this is just an excuse to see you.” she muttered, watching as you set down the first aid kit on the kitchen table. “you don’t have to get shot to come by.” you replied before your hands moved to the hem of her shirt, gently lifting it off despite her groan.

you examined the gunshot wound for a moment declaring that it had only been grazed, a bandage would do the job. you moved quickly to soak some gauze in cleaning solution, smiling up at the spy when she let out a whine.

when you covered the wound, Natasha let out a soft sigh watching as your fingers smoothed out the fabric of the bandaid. “you need to be more careful, nat.” you and Natasha always had this back and forth relationship. it was clear to everyone that you had feelings for each other but each time you tried, something or someone got in the way of it and when you moved away, you told Natasha that she could come with you but Natasha had been adamant that the team needed her so it didn’t work and despite loving the fuck out of her, you knew it’d probably never work and that fact hurt more than anything else.

“just a little deeper and it could’ve killed you.” you sighed out before turning away from the woman. Natasha rocked her jaw side to side for a moment, leaning forward and gripping your wrist, tucking you back into her. “I did come by just want to see you,” Natasha confessed, she knew the wound had been nothing and someone at S.H.I.E.L.D could have easily taken care of it for her but she hadn’t seen you in months, and the idea that something could happen to her and she’d never get to tell you how she felt made her stomach turn.

“I wish you came by more... and under better circumstances.” you sighed lightly, moving your hand out of her hold so you could reach up and brush her straight hair from her face. “I try to stay away so you’re safe, y/n.” you rolled your eyes knowing that if you had been involved with her, you’d never be safe but maybe that was something you could come to terms with because it always felt so right with Natasha and you knew you’d give up your life to experience this for just a moment longer.

“I don’t want to be safe, Natasha. I just want you.” your words filled the air and took nat’s breath away for a moment, staring up at you with so much adoration that it hurt. her hands fell to your hips, caressing the slight gap of skin that had been exposed. “you know I want you too, baby..” her words made your throat feel tight and it had been nearly impossible to swallow.

the few times you and Natasha met up since you moved, it had been arranged at some hotel and you only gotten to spend the night with her, she’d be gone by the morning, leaving a note behind that always told you that she didn’t want to leave you and she wished she hadn’t, you always kept the letters that she wrote.

“I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you,” Natasha spoke quietly, afraid that if she spoke a little too loud, she would ruin the moment but you didn’t think that she could ever ruin anything. it had been so late and you could feel yourself become more and more drained by the second but you were adamant about finishing this conversation with Natasha because despite all the late-night hookups, this is the closest you had ever felt to her and you’d be damned if you let the moment end.

“we’ve known each other for about 5 years now, nat and for about 4 of those years I’ve been in love with you... I don’t think I’ll ever stop so whatever happens to me in the process would be worth it.” Natasha's eyes grew watery but she didn’t want to cry. you knew that Natasha must’ve been in love with you too for just as long and if not, longer because if she wasn’t then why did she always pop back up?

“you’re so stubborn,” she mumbled out, leaning against the palm of your hands when you cupped her cheeks. you hadn’t gotten to reply because Natasha was leaning up to catch your lips in a much-needed kiss. it all felt like second nature to you. the way your lips could meet hers with ease or the way her hands knew right where to touch you.

you knew Natasha had been it for you no matter how hard you tried to stay away or forget that she ever existed. it would be completely impossible. Natasha had been eager as she gripped your thighs and lifted you in ease, blindly leading you into your bedroom. it had been completely dark in your room but when Natasha pulled away to look down at you, you could see her eyes spark in the dark and the way her lips curved into a sweet smile. “I’m always gonna be in love with you,” she uttered out, falling into your parted thighs before crashing her lips against yours. your night hadn’t exactly gone how you expected but you weren’t complaining.

------

the sun shined through your blinds, causing a soft groan to fall past your lips. your blanket perfectly draped over your naked body and you were glad because you knew it was extremely cold in the morning. the moments of the night before had been filling your mind and only one question had been burned into your thoughts. where’s Natasha? you lifted your head to a moment to scan the room but it had been empty and then you searched for a letter or anything but there hadn’t been one insight. you knew Natasha would never leave without explanation, she’d never do that to you but maybe she was in the rush that morning.

“natty?” you called out softly, your voice had been laced with sleep and you waited for a moment but there hadn’t been nothing but silence and it made your cheeks burn with embarrassment because what were you hoping for? “nat?” you tried once more, your voice much more powerful than before. it had been quiet for a second before soft taps sounded on your floor and she gently emerged from the doorframe.

she had her phone to her ear before she whispered that she’d call them back later and you immediately knew it had been Steve searching for her. “what are you doing up so early?” she mumbled softly, tiptoeing over to the bed, falling back into it before she wrapped her arms around you and tugged you back down with her.

“I was looking for you,” you muttered causing Natasha to nuzzle her face into the nape of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. “I’m still here, I’m not going anywhere.” she reassured knowing that her track record hadn’t been the best. “what about the mission?” Natasha hummed softly at your question, wrapping her arms even tighter around you. “it can wait.” you rolled your eyes but had been grateful that Natasha was still there with you.

------

Natasha returned to the compound a few days after her call with cap, begrudgingly leaving you behind, promising that the first chance she got she would come to see you. you hated the fact that you were alone, in an house that now felt far too big for just yourself. you wished life had been normal, you'd dream of spending a normal life with nat.

daily phone calls had now been a thing and promises that felt too empty to hold onto were often whispered. you hated how alone you felt without the girl around but you tried and she tried harder. she understood that she was the main reason the relationship would always have conflicts but she wanted it more than anything and she was determined to make it work.

"I love you," her voice was soft and raspy as she whispered it out, her eyes squeezed shut so she could imagine the expression on your face. "I love you too, natty," you uttered back, and just like that the call was finished and you laid there quietly and very still, hoping that if you laid there long enough you'd eventually fall to sleep.

sleep had been a short-lived dream when a loud thud sounded outside your bedroom. you shot up from the bed, staying glued in your place because someone was definitely in your home. you nervously gripped the gun on your nightstand, cocking it back before you had time to even think of a plan your door was kicked open. you tried to think of something quick, aiming your gun and firing. the sound of the gun never came and when you looked at it, you noticed that it became jammed, it was useless. the men outnumbered you and no matter how much you kicked, punching and screamed, they still injected you with something. it knocked you out cold before you could even process what had happened.

------ Natasha bit at her nail, trying to think of reasons you were yet to pick up her phone. her gut told her that something was very wrong. she had been anxiously trying to rack her head around every possibility that could've happened. her eyes had been glued to the ground, thoughts racing that she hardly noticed when Tony entered.

"what's with the face?" he asked, moving his finger around her face, nat didn't have it in her to keep up her cold demeanor, she immediately broke. "I think something's wrong with y/n," she uttered out, toying with her fingers gently before meeting his gaze. "she hasn't answered my calls in 2 days." she continued, her foot tugging quickly against the marbled floor.

it didn't take much more for Tony to agree that they needed to check on you. so they suited up, flying tony's private jet as close as they could to your house but when they arrived, her fears had been confirmed at the state your house was in and as they ventured through your home. it only got worse. she stared at the bloodstain in the carpet and broken glass, feeling her eyes grow watery and her hands began to shake. Tony tried to comfort her but she couldn't even hear him promise her that they'd find you because one question had been so long and prominent in her head.

where were you?

#natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #the avengers #avengers

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chiliiscereal · 4 years ago

Text

Chosen last: part two

Rottmnt x reader

Summary: reader worries that their new friends are becoming exactly like their old ones, unaware that they’re ditching them to prepare a surprise

Platonic, of course!

Part one: https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/650808822043115520/chosen-last

———

“I’m SOOOoO gonna beat you, Mikey!” You gloated, smashing your fingers over the remote buttons and narrowing your eyes at the tv.

“Ha! In your dreams, baby!” He responded gleefully. He leaned forward and concentrated harder than you’d ever seen him.

It was your annual video game competition. Once a month you and the turtles (and April of course) have one day dedicated to seeing who was the video game champ.

Mikey won last month, Donnie won the month before, Leo won the three months before that, and Raph came close but April defeated him.

You were absolutely determined to win this month.

Surprisingly, Leo was on the couch behind you and rooting for you.

“Go y/n! You got this!” He shouted when your video game car passed Mikeys. He even jumped out of his seat, nearly spilling the popcorn.

“Why are you rooting for y/n??” Mikey accused lividly. “I’m your brother!!”

“Y/n hasn’t won a single competition! Besides, you won last month!” Leo smirked, sitting back down. “It’s hilarious to see you this worked up.”

“Oh you and Dr. Delicate touch are gonna have a looooong talk later.” You snorted.

“Hell yeah he is!” Mikey growled.

Before you could say anything else, Raph entered the room.

“Hey, guys, sorry to cut things short but... Dad needs us to clean!” He blurted out quickly. “Sorry y/n but you should probably go.”

You waved him off, shutting the tv off. “Oh, I can stay and help!”

“No! I mean, it’ll just be boring trust me.” He intervened and took the remote from you hurriedly. He even grabbed your arm and pulled you off the floor. “You don’t want to help clean! It’s fine!”

“Hold on, we have to clean?” Leo groaned. “We cleaned last month!”

“Yeah, why aren’t we fighting Splinter on this?” Mikey stood in Raphs way when he tried to push you out of the room.

You wriggled out of the red masked turtles grasp. “Come on! Don’t you want someone to help you debate this with Splinter!”

You were on the rats good side ever since you bought him the exclusive Lou Jitsu movie box. All the turtles knew this.

Why didn’t they want you on their side?

A small part of you whispered past insecurities but you brushed it away.

Raph sighed, clearly nervous. “Guys we gotta do... the thing. We gotta clean the thing!” He looked at them as if searching for help.

“What thing?” Leo narrowed his eyes.

“The THING. You know?” Raph cleared his throat. “You don’t want to know, y/n. It’s super gross.”

You placed your hands on your hips, suspicious.

“You know... the thing April mentioned a while ago?” Raph tried again, making some loose gestures that you couldn’t really understand.

Somehow, though, Mikey and Leo caught on.

“Ohhhh, the thing!” Mikey exclaimed and immediately began clearing away the snack mess that had been left from the video games.

Leo joined him. “Yeah! Dude, you don’t wanna be here to clean the thing.” He shoveled as much garbage in his arms as he could. “You can just head for the door and come back later! You know, when we don’t have to clean?”

Hesitantly, you grabbed your bag. “Okay..?”

What was this thing they had to clean?

Did they really think it would gross you out?

And why did it take them so long to catch on?

Whatever. It was probably more shenanigans. It didn’t mean anything.

“Alright then,” you stepped away from them slowly, “I’ll just head out.”

The turtles stood in their spots stiffly and waved goodbye.

You rounded the corner to walk over to the ladder, unsure of what to think.

They didn’t normally act like this...

But maybe Splinter just really wanted them to clean?

But why weren’t you allowed to know what the Thing was?

And April apparently already knew about it...

Maybe it was just that you were still relatively new to the friend group.

Yeah, that made sense.

Before you could touch the ladder you heard voices.

Two voices.

Coming from Donnie’s lab.

Well, might as well go say goodbye to Donnie right?

You shouldered you’re bag and headed over, standing in the doorway and knocking on the wall so he’d know you were there.

He and April were both sitting together looking at a computer.

You didn’t even know April was there! Well, she might get kicked out for cleaning day to. Maybe you could both do something together!

The duo looked up, panicked, and Donnie quickly shut the computer off. “Ah! Y/n! I didn’t know you were here!”

You frowned, a little hurt. “Today was the video game competition? I was here just like the last... five months?”

April gave you a too wide grin and shut the laptop. “Well! What... uh... what brings you to the lab?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Raph and the others kicked me out cause they need to clean a Thing? They said it was really gross, and I came in to say bye to Donnie and maybe see if you wanted to go get ice cream or something?”

April turned to Donnie, wide eyed. “Well... I... I can’t exactly... I have a...”

“She has to help clean the Thing as well!” Donnie filled in for her.

Now you were really confused. “But... Raph said it was too gross for anyone other than family.”

“It’s fine!” April waved you off. “But let’s get ice cream later! Okay?”

You gave them a small wave and turned around. “Yeah... okay.”

———-

That Saturday you found yourself walking down the street with one of your old friends.

She wanted to get frozen yogurt and had a coupon for a “buy one get one free”.

Normally you’d have said no. But the turtles AND April denied you every time you asked if you could hang out!

So you said yes.

Just like old times.

“I’m SO sure Jake likes me.” She grinned to herself as she typed away on her phone. “Hope you don’t mind but he’s gonna be at the frozen yogurt shop with us!”

“Oh.” You mumbled. “I thought it’d just be you and me.”

“It’s fine!” She waved you off. “He’s nice! He’s not like the last guy... uh... what’s his name?”

“The guy who told me I was a prude or the guy who told me I looked better with makeup?” You couldn’t help but spit out bitterly.

“The first one.” She eyed you strangely. “And what’s with you today? You’re more pessimistic than usual.”

“That one was Brian. And I’m fine.”

She turned back to her phone, the two of you weaving through the new York crowd.

You’d rather be with the...

The turtles?

You stopped, hearing familiar voices coming from the alley.

“How could you forget!”

“You think I just meant to?!”

“Maybe!”

“Guys, shut up, it’s not a big deal, okay? There’s still time to figure this out.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re just gonna make up another lame excuse and leave!”

“I will not!”

“Can’t we just wait for April in peace?”

“No, because RAPH forgot about-!”

You cleared your throat and entered the alley.

The boys were huddled together, arguing. Quickly they jumped apart and tried their best to act normal.

“Heyyyyy, y/n!” Leo gave you awkward finger guns. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

Mikey looked like he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You were suddenly less excited to see them. “Hey’ didn’t expect to see you guys either!” You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “What’re you... what’re you doing here? I thought you were too busy to hang out?”

“We are!” Donnie nodded. “Very busy.”

“Yeah and dad grounded us from hanging out with people so-.” Raph added, only for his plan to fall through when April showed up from behind them.

“Guys! I got the-!” She stopped, spotting you. Whatever was in her hands she hid it purposely behind her back so you couldn’t see it. “Y/n!”

You fixed them with a small glare. “Too busy to hang out?”

You didn’t want to sound clingy or desperate, but now it just felt like they were going out of their way to avoid you.

“Well, you know, April doesn’t count! She’s practically family!” Raph chuckled.

That was enough for you to make a decision.

“Well, I’m kind of with a friend right now! I’ll... I’ll just talk to you guys later.”

You backed out of the alley, surprised to find yourself looking forward to meeting the new boy your friend was chasing instead of seeing whatever goofiness the turtles were up to.

You’d survived without them before.

Surely you could survive until whatever this was passed.

———-

“Hey girl your birthday’s coming up!” Your friend mentioned at the lunch table the next day. “I’m Definetely taking you bowling! We’ll bring all the girls, maybe even Jake!”

You didn’t even like bowling.

You didn’t even like Jake!

He was just like all the other boys she’d dated.

But it was better than just sitting at home and waiting for the boys to explain their recent behavior.

“That sounds great.” You muttered, stirring your salad half heartedly. “Can’t wait.”

You went back to sitting with your old group since this whole thing started.

You didn’t have anyone else to sit with! April would disappear during her lunch hour and say she just was going out to get lunch, but she never did that! Ever!

A part of you believed that maybe they finally realized you weren’t worth being friends with.

Maybe you were always meant to be the hermit.

“You excited?” One of your friends asked. “I am! I’m gonna invite Jaxon to go with me and I’ll get dressed up-!”

You tuned them out immediately.

What was the point.

They were talking about it like it was their party.

Not yours.

Just like every other year.

———-

Another day went by.

You found yourself with those same girls again.

They were planning the ‘bowling birthday party’ and coordinating rides. But, of course, there was no room for you to carpool with them.

“Hey, y/n!” April shouted across the lunch room.

You debated about ignoring her, and then debated about just getting it over with.

Ignoring her seemed easier.

“O’Neil, what do you want.” One of your friends asked almost boredly.

Crap, April was right behind you.

“I just wanted to talk to y/n!”

You didn’t bother turning around.

“I know you heard me. Why aren’t you sitting at our table?”

You clenched you’re fists under the table. “You haven’t been here, April. Besides I have other friends.” You finally turned to face her.

She narrowed her eyes.

But, not from anger.

“Well... I’m back now!” She grinned, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Also, Mikey wanted to know if you wanted to have ice cream with the guys later tonight?”

One of your friends burst out laughing before you could even answer. “This Mikey guy is real?”

Another one snorted. “Who’d have known?”

You tried to laugh it off.

You really did.

But that proved harder than you thought.

April placed her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? What do you mean by ‘who’d have known’?”

“You know what y/n’s like!” The friend beside you waved her off. “She hardly talks to anyone! He’d probably think she’s boring.” She turned to you. “Right?” She elbowed your side when you said nothing, as if she were joking with you.

You straitened your lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah... right.”

“So, when we go bowling for your birthday, do you think Jake will like my blue dress or my-?”

April slammed her hands on the table. “Hold on, you think this is all some game?”

Your friend shrugged. “We’re just playing with her! She knows it’s a joke!”

“Was it? Cause I couldn’t tell!” April huffed.

“April, drop it.” You mumbled. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not!” She nearly yelled. “You guys haven’t been a good friend to her at all! You forgot her birthday present last year and you make her walk everywhere-!”

You stood up from your seat. “I said stop, okay?”

Surprisingly, she did.

“It’s fine. Just leave it alone.” You walked over to the trash can and dumped in your long forgotten food.

She frowned. “Fine, if you don’t want me to do this, I won’t.” She walked next to you, casting a look over her shoulder at your table. “Even though I’m right.”

You said nothing.

What could you say?

“Hey, I... I gotta go talk to the guys.” April bit her lip and glanced at the door. “Can you possibly come to the lair? Tonight? Around... five?”

You set your tray back in the pile with all the other dirty ones. “Yeah, I can try.”

“Great thanks!”

April was out of there faster than you could say ‘hot soup’.

————

Wouldn’t you know it, five o’clock rolled around.

You didn’t want to go.

You really didn’t.

Well, you did, but you honestly thought this was going to be them ditching you.

All the signs were there.

Instead of over thinking you decided to just go. Don’t even think about it.

You arrived at the lair quietly, taking your time stepping down the ladder.

All the lights in the kitchen were off.

All the lights in their skating room was off.

By now, it just felt like this was one big joke. Did you misinterpret April? Did the guys even know you were down here? Ugh what if they were doing this just to laugh at you?

Finally, you got to their living room.

You clicked the light on.

“SURPRISE!!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the four boys, one girl, and one rat dad jumped out.

Confetti?

Cake?

Even a happy birthday banner?

Decorations with your favorite colors?

Your favorite movie ready and waiting to be played in the tv?

“Ha! Look! Y/n’s speechless!” Leo chortled.

“Happy early birthday, dear friend!” Donnie waved to showcase the room. “April told us your friends were having a bowling party on the actual day, and that you probably needed a little something fun, so here we are!”

“We got all your favorite things, facts checked by the master!” Raph patted April’s back.

“We even got your favorite video game from the store!” Mikey bounced over to the tv and picked up the disc case.

“We have cake, baked by me, and your favorite sodas!” Splinter gave you a toothy rat grin.

“And as for the gifts,” Raph chuckled guiltily, “you kind of caught us trying to get them at the store! April told us it was coming up but we forgot and had to rush to get things ready.”

You...

You honestly didn’t know what to say...

You didn’t have any words!

No one had ever done this for you before.

No one.

Not even the friends that you’d known for years.

A small tear slipped out against your will as you brought your hands to cover your mouth.

“Hey, what’s the problem? You’re supposed to be happy!” Leo dropped his party hat and rushed over, brothers behind him.

You wrapped them up in the biggest hug you could give them. “Thank you so so so much! I... no one has ever done anything like this for me!”

The family gladly returned the gesture.

“Ah, so they’re happy tears. Excellent.” Donnie nodded to himself. “You are happy with this, right?”

You released them and stepped back. “Definitely happy tears.”

April draped her arm over your shoulder. “Well then, what are you waiting for! Let’s get started!!”

That night was probably one of the best nights of your life.

For once, you weren’t chosen last.

You weren’t the extra.

You weren’t the plus one.

You weren’t taken for granted.

Let me know if you have any ideas for a part three! Possibly one where the turtles find out about the readers friends? 😏

@magicalfrickingfish

#fanfic #wattpad #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt x reader

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cat-induced-fever-dream · 3 years ago

Text

I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre: Angst if you squint really hard. Fluff to make up for Marvel reminding me that Nat is dead.

Description: The falling in love of Wanda Maximoff and you. (If anyone has a better description please hit me up.)

Notes: Was going to be a one-shot and then it didn’t happen so there’s going to be a second part. It’ll probably happen in like a month though since I have a trip. Comments always appreciated. :)

- - -

You’re not sure when it happened. To be fair, neither is Wanda.

You had just started with SHIELD, and were there for the battle with Ultron, and then when Wanda became an Avenger. You remember the admiration you held for her, for her powers, for her determination to do what was right, her grit. Now, it was more of a well-deserved respect. Her strength when everything else in her life seemed to be gone, her brutal honesty regarding matters important to her, and her loyalty to those she cared about.

Maybe that’s when it started. As an exemplary agent, you could handle most things Fury assigned you, but being an Avenger? That was a whole new battleground. One that Wanda had your six on. From simple things, like showing you around the compound, and looking for you when you inevitably got lost (again). Wanda with her no frills attitude and sharp tongue, lashing out at Fury himself when he assigned you your 6th mission in 4 days. Wanda with her soft smiles that made your stomach flip and whispered jokes when she noticed your anxiousness on a mission. It wasn’t easy, keeping up with super soldiers, spies with years of experience on you, actual gods, but Wanda made it simple.

- - -

Wanda sometimes wondered if she could really be a hero. She wasn’t a good person. She had done terrible things. Then you stumbled in, a fresh agent and an even fresher Avenger, but you looked at her with no distrust. A little lost perhaps, but no malice. That confused SHIELD agent? It reminded her of, well, her. It may have been under different circumstances, but in essence, they were the same. Thrust into a world of avenging, knowing no one, knowing nothing. So she threw you a line, offered her support when you looked like you needed it. Wanda expected a bite, but she didn’t expect a tug back. The way you offered to help her practice her powers (a little naively), and then when you realised your mistake, your offer to teach her the hand to hand combat you had learned from SHIELD. The way you always looked back for her on a mission, even when you knew she could protect herself with said powers. You were on her team, a comfort she didn’t have since Pietro died. Okay well the Avengers were also her team, but you were her person, always in her corner.

- - -

It shouldn’t be this easy. Sometimes it felt like you could read each other’s minds. To be fair, Wanda could read your mind, but you knew she wouldn’t do it without your permission. Still, there was something about your unspoken agreements that came so naturally. Where everyone else was on comms, it was like the pair of you were tuned to the same wavelength, communicating in a code not even Natasha could decrypt.

“You just get me, you know?” Wanda says, as the two of you are sprawled on her bed after a mission. “It’s like our brains are, I dunno, smooshed together or something. Not even Vision feels like this, and we’re literally connected by an Infinity Stone in his head.”

“Smooshed together?” you laugh. “What an insightful description. And I can’t believe you just compared me to that toaster. I’m obviously way better than him.”

“You realise he can shoot lasers right?”

“And I can turn on a laser on the sights of my guns. Sit down, you’re not special.”

This earns you a giggle. “But it’s like you’re in my brain.”

“Oh so I’m always on your mind?”

“Shut up Y/N/N.”

“Maybe your powers are rubbing off on me,” you joke, wiggling your fingers in her face.

“I do not look like that,” cries Wanda indignantly. “And if you have my powers, what am I thinking about right now?”

“Stealing Sam’s cupcakes,” you reply with no hesitation.

“I was actually thinking about how I hope Steve never reassigns mission partners,” she says pointedly. “But now that you mention it, I could really do with a cupcake.”

“I was right then?” you tease, tugging her towards the kitchen with a cheeky grin.

Wanda rolls her eyes at you, but she mirrors your grin and your stomach is swooping again.

“For the record, you’re my favourite mission partner too.”

- - -

Wanda didn’t expect to call the compound home. She stayed because she had nowhere else to go. And with her differences with Stark and the friendly but still guarded manner of the other Avengers initially (though she didn’t blame them), she kept to herself. But you were different. She noticed the way you prioritised her, looked out for her, to the best of your ability.

She’s shaken from nightmare and automatically, her feet lead her towards you. It’s late, she knows, but when she knocks on your door, you open with an easy smile and open arms that envelop her gently. When her sobbing subsides, you break away, wiping the tear tracks with your thumb.

“Dick van Dyke?” you ask.

Nodding wordlessly, Wanda lets you lead her your bed and settles in beside you.

That’s when she notices the stacks of files illuminated by your desk light.

“Sorry,” she sniffles, throat raw from crying, “did I interrupt you?”

“Oh those?” you say, waving dismissively at your desk. “Maria’s just been on my back lately to get those done, but it’ll be fine.”

With a stab of guilt, she makes to move of the bed, but you grab her wrist before she can. “Don’t worry about it, those can wait.”

As the TV murmurs softly in the background, you wrap a comforting hand around her, and she begins to drift off, nightmares warded away by your presence.

And she wakes up the next morning with the duvet pulled over her, and you slumped at your desk.

- - -

It was an easy mission. Most missions are when you and Wanda are paired together. Get in, get the data, get out. But then HYDRA agents were swarming the building, and intel definitely didn’t mention this level of security, and the exits were blocked off.

“I’m definitely gonna punch Tony later for this,” you groan, and Wanda shoots you a smile before returning to the approaching soldiers. Silently you whip around, firing rounds at the agents on the other end of the corridor. This was one of the many “plans” you had with Wanda, the endless missions allowing you to familiarise yourself with how your two fighting styles complimented each other. Being the enhanced out of you two, Wanda would push forward, handling the bulk of attacks with a flick of her wrist. You had her back, shooting at the stragglers who came from behind. Spotting something that resembled a server room, you gave a tug on her sleeve and she nodded, reassuring you that she had it handled.

Not wanting to leave Wanda for longer than necessary, you plug in the drive to do its Stark-tech thing and bolted back outside. To find the bodies slumped en masse on both end of the hallway.

“Guess you did have it handled,” you say, waving at the uniformed soldiers.

“Oh my god that isn’t even a good pun,” the witch replies, before continuing with a smirk. “But yes, I am way more powerful than you.”

“Don’t think that was ever in question,” you say, but then alarms were blaring, and the building plunges into a red glow and then oh my god there’s a gun behind Wanda and before you knew what was happening, a shot had fired from your gun and there was a burning pain in your shoulder.

The brunette whirls around just as you collapse into the wall. “Guess you’re not as an amazing shot as I am though,” you mutter, before blacking out.

- - -

To say Wanda was in a state of panic was an understatement. It was more like a whole damn continent. As much as she reassured you before missions, your easygoing, playful attitude was her anchor in these intense situations. Everywhere felt like home, like you two bickering on the couches. Your constant presence was like bringing a piece of the compound with her. And regardless of her experience as an Avenger, as an ex-agent, you were undoubtedly better with running missions. Not everything was a save the world type threat after all.

Eyes darting around, Wanda noted that you had indeed shot the last agent, before skimming across your bleeding out form.

The training doors opened with a bang and Wanda turned to the noise. Then she found herself pinned to the floor.

“Stay focused on the mission,” you scolded, before helping her back up.

The drive. You’d be pissed if she didn’t get it. Sprinting into the server room, she rips it from the port.

“Okay don’t laugh at me, but this is my hierarchy of the 3 Is.”

“Eyes?” Wanda asks.

“No, like the letter I. At the top is innocents, and they’re my priority. Steve says you can’t save everyone, but I can damn sure try. Next is the idiots. That’s the mission. ‘Cause I’d say you’re pretty damn stupid to go up against the Avengers. And finally we have Iron Man, or the heroes. As much as it’s going to hurt, we can’t let the sentiment get in the way. We all knew what we were signing up for, and I’m pretty sure all of us would rather it be us than someone else.”

“Thank you o wise one,” she mocks.

Wanda smiles a little at the memory, but tears pool at her eyes. Then she hears it, the faint footsteps pulling her back from her daze.

“Damn you and your stupid heart of gold,” she whispers, before flying the two of you back to the ship.

- - -

The steady beeping tugs you from slumber.

“Oh you’re up.”

You strain your neck to see Tony walking up with a bowl in his hands.

“You don’t sound very excited to see me Stark.”

“Not when I have to bring meals up here every day for Maximoff,” he says, pointing at the sleeping girl on the chair. “Hasn’t moved for days. Figured I’d hand deliver as an apology.”

“Aw did she punch you for me?”

“Worse,” he chuckled. “Gave me an earful.”

“I’d say you deserve it after that.”

He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Really, I’m sorry though. That was on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. And thanks for looking after her.”

Tony nods politely before leaving the meal and you two alone.

“It’s good to have you back kiddo,” he calls, before shutting the door.

Reaching an arm through the railing, you poke Wanda’s elbow.

“Meal delivery for Miss Maximoff?”

The curled up form stirs a little, rubbing her eyes, before freezing in shock.

“You’re back!”

“Apparently so,” you reply with a wry grin.

Wanda leans over the hospital bed, green eyes searching for any injuries.

“I missed you,” she murmurs.

“And you missed one-“

A slap hits you on your injured arm, and you hiss in pain.

“I’m not apologising for that one,” she glares.

Raising your good arm up in surrender, you pout. “Don’t I get a pity pass?”

“Not for worrying me like that.”

“But it wasn’t even my fault!”

She rolls her eyes (she seems to do that a lot at you some reason).

“Wait,” you frown, “we broke our perfect mission streak.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

Then she’s hugging you, her nose pressed into your neck. Her soft brown hair cascades over your face like a waterfall, tickling your chin. Through your gown, you’re hyper-aware of the cool metal of the rings which adorn her fingers, how nice she smells, how right it feels to be held by her.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she mumbles, her breath warming your neck, and your stomach is doing acrobatics. Even with the meds, you’re aware that this feels familiar, like something.

Pulling away, she studies your face. “Never. Do. That. Again.”

You laugh. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

It must be the meds, it must be.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #marvel #mcu

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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Bruises | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Part II of the Nestor two-shot. This part is significantly longer than the first part, but we get to see Nestor takin' care of business, so. Also, there's a Marcus cameo.

Warnings: implied violence; gun usage; language | Words: 1,861

Part I of Bruises

Two days later, you’re back at work, opting for a floral catsuit to keep your bruising covered. Your sides, back, and thighs are starting to look pretty gnarly.

Nestor had indeed taken you to the hospital and stayed with you while doctors performed a series of ultrasounds and CT scans to check for any internal hemorrhaging; he was on the phone for a while and you could hear snippets of angry conversation, likely with Miguel or Marcus about finding the guy that did this. When you were given the all-clear, Nestor had taken you home, insisting on you taking it easy. He had made dinner and curled up with you on the couch, trying to avoid jostling you at all costs. When the two of you had finally made your way to bed, his fingers gently caressed you and he pressed soft kisses against the deep violet bruises blooming across your torso. You saw the quick flash of heartbreak in his eyes at seeing you hurt, and you had curled against him, falling asleep safely in his arms.

It’s a Tuesday and it’s early, so the club is still fairly slow. You’re bartending tonight, thankfully, glad to have a large slab of wood between you and everyone else. You’re not sure what progress Nestor has made on finding the guy, but you still have your job, so you count your blessings and don’t ask questions.

Another blessing: the other bartender for the evening arrives, and it’s an intimidating-looking girl you’ve worked with a few times named Morgan. All but the most confident (or the stupidest) patrons find her pin-straight black hair, severe makeup, and perma-frown a little daunting. No one ever fucks with Morgan and you’re glad to have her beside you for the night.

Things start to pick up around 11 and suddenly, it’s busy, even for a Tuesday. Morgan leans over to remind you about the drink special your boss is promoting, and you groan internally, knowing the tips are the only thing making it worth your while. You and Morgan make a good team, supplying drinks at a breakneck pace while club lights flash around you, obscuring most of what’s happening past the first row of patrons at the bar.

You’re throwing together a Jack & Coke when you hear it. The voice sends panic jolting down your spine as it requests a Budweiser. You stare at your trembling hands, a lime wedge clutched between your fingers.

You force your eyes upward and it’s him. The same slicked back brown hair, the same oily smile, even the same leather jacket. Your eyes widen and he looks back at you with a calculating gaze. Your immediate reaction is a desire to run. But as soon as the thought appears you dismiss it. The club is packed, and it would be easy for him to try something in the middle of a throng of people. No, the safest place for you is behind the bar, where other people can keep their eyes on you.

You force a smile that you’re sure comes out as more of a grimace.

“Sure thing,” you tell him, the pitch of your voice just a little too high. You hand the Jack & Coke to its owner, managing to spill a little on your shaking hands, then head over to the cooler for the beer.

You can feel his eyes on you and your stomach turns, bile burning in your throat. In the dark corner of the bar, shielded partially from view by Morgan, you can feel yourself breaking down. Your eyes flash around you in a panic. Everything and everyone feel too far away. You don’t see the bouncer by the door, and there’s no escape route that doesn’t take you past the man staring at you from the end of the bar.

You’re not sure what to do so you call the person you trust the most.

Nestor answers on the first ring. “Amor?” His voice is, understandably, apprehensive.

A whimper steals through your lips before you can get the words out. “He’s here.”

“Are you inside?” Nestor’s tone has lost all sense of worry. His words are clipped, business-like, and you know this isn’t going to end well.

“Yeah, I’m working the bar with Morgan,” you mumble, dropping your head into your hands as Morgan looks over at you with concern.

“Stay behind the bar,” he commands. “If he tries anything, break a bottle, get a paring knife. Whatever you gotta do, mi amor. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

The line goes dead and you take a couple deep breaths, glad that, despite what’s about to happen, Nestor is coming. You grab the Budweiser out of the cooler, pop the cap and plunk it on the bar top in front of him, not meeting his eyes.

“How’s your night going, babydoll?” The words slither out of his mouth deviously and you swallow around the knot in your throat. Your eyes glance to digital clock beside the register. Thirteen minutes to go.

“Busy,” you grind out through gritted teeth. You move to the middle of the bar to help a waiting customer, and the man’s eyes follow you as you make drinks. He doesn’t leave the bar. He sits and leers and you wonder if he thinks that he’s going to follow you out again at the end of the night. As if you wouldn’t have learned your lesson? Good thing he won’t be here ‘til closing, you think, as your eyes flicker obsessively to the clock, counting down the minutes until Nestor arrives.

Nestor, apparently, makes very good time when he’s angry, because you see him come through the door of the club with two minutes to spare. An audible sigh of relief passes your lips as his eyes find yours over the crowd and he makes his way to the bar. You bite your lip as your gaze lands on Marcus talking to the bouncer who has returned to his post. The bouncer, the same one who was working the night you were attacked, glances at you, then nods to Marcus. Marcus disappears into the crowd behind Nestor. You can’t help the tightening in your chest. This is going to be bad.

You come to stand in front of the man so Nestor knows who to see about their little assault problem. The man, still unaware of Nestor and Marcus’ approach behind him, winks nauseatingly at you and just as he reaches over the bar for your wrist, a firm hand clenches around his forearm and pulls back. The man jerks back on the bar stool and spins to face two vicious looking men in suits.

The man sputters, trying to yank his arm free, but Nestor has no intention of letting him go. “Who the fuck are you?” the man yells. You glance at Nestor’s hold on the man’s arm, his knuckles turning white as his grip intensifies.

Marcus paces around to the other side of the man’s stool, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. “We hear you like to hit women,” he says nonchalantly, bringing his mouth close to the man’s ear. His one free arm flies up, trying to hit Marcus, but Marcus was expecting it. He grabs it and yanks it behind the man’s back. Marcus steps back just slightly, drawing out his gun, keeping it low so as not to alarm the crowd. You see the added length of a silencer on the end of it as Marcus shoves it into the man’s side and you step forward.

“Not in here, please,” you beg, and Marcus smiles at you benevolently.

“Mija, what do you take me for? I would never,” he says, and you cock an eyebrow, knowing full well he would.

Between the two of them, Nestor and Marcus hustle the man outside as he yells frantically over the crowd. He can’t really be heard over the music, and no one appears to notice, likely assuming security was removing him. They take him to the back, towards the back door of the club that leads into the alley where he attacked you. The heavy door slams shut with a note of finality, and you try to put it out of your mind. It’s out of your hands anyway. It was out of your hands the minute you told Nestor about it.

You see Morgan looking over at you as you try to get back to work, willing your hands to be steady. She seems to know better than ask, though, and you’re grateful for that. Thirty minutes later, Nestor comes back in through the front door of the club, nodding at the bouncer as he passes. The crowd has thinned out and the bar is considerably less busy. Nestor makes his way over and you run out from behind it to wrap yourself around him in a hug. The fingers on your right hand find their way to their usual spot around one of Nestor’s braids and you give it an affectionate tug. It’s slight, but you feel him sink into your embrace, seemingly as relieved as you. You pull back and scan him from head to toe, your heart racing. He appears unscathed, but you do notice the tiniest drop of blood on his dress shoe and point it out to him. He frowns and grabs a cocktail napkin off the bar and leans to down to rub it off, as you release a tired chuckle. He crumples the napkin and puts it in his pocket, then caresses your cheek, tucking you against his body.

“He won’t be bothering you anymore,” he murmurs.

You sigh, partly relieved, partly concerned for Nestor. “¿Lo mataste?” you ask hesitantly, not sure if you’re ready for the answer.

Nestor pulls away to look at you dubiously, as though he can read you like a book. “You really want to know?”

“I feel like I need to,” you say with a shrug, but your grip remains tight on Nestor.

A hard look passes briefly over his eyes before he gazes back down at you with a lopsided smile. “We made sure he won’t be touching anything he’s not supposed to anymore.”

Your face contorts as you wonder what they did with the fingers, but you opt not to ask.

“And he’s not gonna come back?” you ask, your voice small. You’re sure Nestor can feel your heartbeat clamoring against his chest.

“Not unless he wants to die,” Nestor whispers soothingly, and you let out a heavy exhale. “And I talked to Jimmy at the door. He gets anywhere near this place, they call me or Marcus.”

Tears sting your eyes, and you sniff as you pull Nestor tighter against you. “Thank you,” you mumble into his lapel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, what now?” you ask, unsure what a person does after they dismember someone in the darkened parking lot of a club.

Nestor pressed a kiss against your forehead, and you could feel his lips curling into smirk against your skin. He pulled away and met your eyes with a shrug. “Now we go home.”

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc #mayans fanfic

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quiet-onset · 4 years ago

Text

Opening Up

Pairing: Frank Castle x Black!reader

WC: 4.5k+

Warnings: slight angst, 18+, IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER, DO NOT INTERACT!! Unprotected sex (no glove, no love guys), female-receiving and male-receiving oral, overstimulation, mild choking, very slight d/s

Frank Castle was never one for opening up. The last time that happened — it wasn’t pretty. He’d lost the people he’d cared about most. So, he kept himself closed off.

That is, until he met you.

In that dark, dank bar, full of criminals and gang leaders, you stuck out like a sore thumb. Compared to the meatheads surrounding you, you were a delicate flower. A rose that grew from the cracks in the sidewalks, refusing to bend or break for anyone. Stunning brown skin complementing a little baby blue dress that made Frank’s mind foggy, you sat at the bar and made friendly conversation with the bartender.

Frank had come to the bar loaded with a single pistol and his bare fists, prepared to take down as many of those criminal fucks as he could. He didn’t even break a sweat because he knew he could handle every man in that bar with one hand tied behind his back. But he hesitated — Frank Castle hesitated — when he saw you.

Unfortunately for him, Frank was a hard man to miss.

He hadn’t been in the bar for too long before he was surrounded. Not that it mattered much. He took on man after man, brute after brute, with no fear in his heart. Hell, some men ran out as soon as they witnessed the sheer force that Frank unleashed. He fought until it was just him, you, and the bartender. Frank, battered and bloody, turned to the bartender, “You know why I’m here? Huh?”

The bartender, instead of using his common sense, immediately grabbed the gun he kept under the counter. Frank did the same, flicking off the safety as he tried to get a clear shot. The bartender scurried around the bar and grabbed you, nudging the barrel against your temple. “One step, and I’ll blow her fucking br—”

Just as quick, you grabbed his wrist and reared your elbow into his gut. As he groaned and doubled over, you snatched the gun from him and threw it on the floor near Frank.

When Frank lowered his gun with a stunned look on his face, you turned to him. In a quiet voice, sweet and smooth like honey, you shrugged and said, “I took a self defense class.”

That was when he knew he’d have to rethink the whole ‘not opening up’ thing.

Months later, you found yourself in Frank’s small apartment in the Bronx. You knew what he did, of course. He’d come home late at night many times with cuts and bruises that you’d gladly patched up. He still couldn’t help feeling like he didn’t deserve your presence. Like he wasn’t worthy of your kindness and patience. But of course, in normal Frank fashion, he kept it to himself.

You noticed him getting a little distant, more than usual. There were no more of the small things. The hand on your lower back as he passed you in the hall. The cute little pet names he always called you but would never admit to. He even stopped reaching for you at night when he came home late. You hated seeing him close in on himself, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

When Frank walked in at three in the morning, you were wide awake with a cup of tea in your hands. Despite his sore, aching muscles and wishing he could just be numb, his heart warmed at the sight of you in his t-shirt and jacket. Legs folded under you as you pulled the jacket sleeves into your hands, he gazed and wondered why someone as gentle and kind as you would ever give him the time of day. He paused in the entrance, clearing his throat. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” You set your cup on the coffee table as you look at the gash on his lower torso. “You’re hurt.”

He chuckled quietly, slightly wincing when he touched it. “I’m always hurt.”

“Let me patch it up for you.”

“I can do it.” He reached for the first aid kit you kept in the side table, but you placed your soft hand over his bruised, calloused one.

“I know. But let me.”

Frank heaved out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t say no to you. The tension between you was thick as he walked around the table to the couch. His heavy boots clunked against the hardwood floor until he stood tall above you. As he looked down at you, you took his hand in one of yours and his bicep in the other, pulling him gently down to sit next to you.

He watched you closely as you opened the first aid kit. As you pulled out the alcohol and a wad of gauze, he leaned forward and reached under the table. “Frank, sit back.”

“I am, just give me a second.”

When he leaned back with a bottle of brandy and some painkillers in hand, you chuckled and shook your head. “How long has that been under there?”

“You kidding?” He finally cracked a small smile. “I’ve got bottles stashed all over this place.”

You gently wiped the wet gauze across the gash, pausing when he took a sharp breath of air. You smiled up at him before focusing again on his wound. “You sure you don’t have a problem?”

“I’ve got a lot of problems, but drinking ain’t one of them.”

He pulled the cork out of the bottle and took the pills with a quick drink as you reached for the needle and thread. Frank was used to being wiped down and stitched up, but he never seemed to get used to having you do it. His heart always pounded against his chest like the beat of a war drum. It was uncomfortable in the best way — the kind that pushes you out of your comfort zone.

“What was it this time?” You asked softly.

“Human trafficking ring.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” His breath hitched as the needle passed through his skin once more. “There’s still two more sects to deal with, but I figured I should stitch this up first. Can’t help anyone if I’m dead.”

You chuckled and wiped away the remaining blood, finishing up his stitches. “Frank Castle finally learned to think rationally? It’s a miracle.”

Frank felt the tension between you melt away as he chuckled at your teasing and giggling. “You think that’s funny, huh?” Ignoring the pain in his abdomen, he swung his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you tight. “You got jokes now, is that it?”

Soon, the laughter died down and the silence set in. Just you and him, staring into each other’s eyes. You could feel his impending apology radiating off him as you leaned just a bit closer. “I was worried about you.”

“I know.”

“You can’t just shut me out.”

“I know.” Frank grabbed your other hand. “I’m sorry.”

You paused and glanced down at your intertwined hands. It was such a stark contrast — the scars and calluses on his large hands while your rich brown skin was smooth and soft, free of almost any marks. Still, you believed that was why you worked together. You supported each other in unimaginable ways. And as crazy as it sounded, you weren’t sure what you would do if Frank disappeared from your life. It was a beautiful feeling to love someone like that, but it still made your heart drop to your stomach during moments like these. “Don’t do it again.”

He smiled down at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he leaned in closer. “You gonna kiss me now?”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good.”

The first kiss was short and gentle, Frank’s apology to you. The second was a bit more intense. His tongue dragged across yours, and it was so excruciatingly intoxicating that you couldn’t help but move closer to him. Frank pushed his jacket off your shoulders and flung it onto the floor behind the couch. Suddenly, you both needed to be as close as possible. You helped him get his clothes off, leaving him in his boxers.

Frank realized then that you were staring at his scars, as you usually did. He wasn’t insecure about them, but they were reminders of the things he did. Sometimes, they brought back memories he’d rather not relive. So, you, being intuitive, always paid special attention to them. You delicately ran a hand across his pecs and down his torso, scratching lightly over his scars — but carefully avoiding his stitches — as you placed wet kisses along the column of his neck. That combination never failed to make his breath hitch in his throat.

Then, suddenly filled with the urge to make you feel good, he cupped your sex with his large calloused hand. The heel of his hand pushed into your clit, and you were putty in his hands. He felt your body shudder as you let out the sweetest sigh in his ear. “Let me take care of ya.” He said in a quiet, gruff voice.

You let him gently push you back onto the couch, your chest heaving as Frank lowered himself onto the floor. Looking up at you, his entire world, he couldn’t have felt luckier. You went to pull him back up, worried about his stitches, but he only pushed your hands back. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just let me do this for ya.”

His hand travelled up your bare thighs, pushing up the end of his T-shirt to reveal your simple cotton panties. As Frank marveled at the wet spot that began to soak through them, you squirmed shyly. “If I’d known this was gonna happen, I’d have worn something better.”

“Whaddya mean? This is perfect.” His hand pressed into your inner thigh, he ran his thumb across the wet spot with a hum. It was a light touch, not enough pressure for any real satisfaction but just enough to evoke a gentle sigh from your lips. “You’re perfect.”

Slipping his fingers under the waistband, he pulled them down your thighs and tossed them over his back. He wasn’t sure where they landed — he was too preoccupied with the goddess before him.

It took a lot to get Frank Castle on his knees, yet you seemed to do it effortlessly. Just a simple gesture and he was on his knees, ready to praise you, to worship you and your body. He briefly wondered if this was what it was like to have a religious awakening, but he couldn’t see past what was before him. All that talk with Murdock about sin and faith, right and wrong, it all went out the door when he met you. How was he supposed to understand any of that when the gods walked among them — you sitting before him as living proof?

He was pulled from his trance as you placed a hand on his cheek. “Hey, you okay?” You asked softly.

Looking up at you, he nodded before placing his hands under your knees and pulling you forward. “Better than.” He replied gruffly. With your legs over his shoulders, he lowered his face to your pussy, licking one long, thick stripe from your opening to your swollen clit. “Just hold onto me.”

You knew Frank was going to take his time with you when he started slow. As much as you loved the way Frank would sometimes bury his face so far into you that he could barely breathe, you preferred when he slowed down, breaking you down until you were whimpering nonsense above him. There was something more intimate about it, like he was finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. And although you could only catch glances of his hypnotizing eyes, gasping and writhing as his tongue brushed through your folds and licked up all you had to offer, you saw Frank become himself. He was no longer the Punisher or a veteran or a suffering widower. He was simply Frank.

And what a marvel he was.

To the edge and back, over and over, Frank brought you teasingly close to release time and time again. Whether it had been thirty minutes or three hours, you couldn’t tell. You could only focus on the way he stared at you as he flicked at your clit, picking up speed. You whined when he slid a single finger into you, realizing he wasn’t going to look away. He wanted to see you come.

“You gonna come for me?” Frank asked, his voice thick with lust. You couldn’t do much but moan and nod your head as he curled his finger inside you, pressing on the soft spot inside you that had you seeing entire galaxies behind your eyes. “Atta girl.”

He removed his finger, making you pout, but they were quickly replaced by his tongue. As he licked into you, his nose began to nudge at your clit, and you were clutching to the couch cushions. Somewhere between heaven and earth, Frank noticed your scrambling and reached out his hands. You intertwined both your hands with his, holding onto him as he pushed you closer and closer toward the edge. It wasn’t long until the coil snapped, and heat flooded up your body as you released on Frank’s tongue.

Still, he swept his tongue over your lips and across your labia, not minding the way you convulsed and squirmed and whimpered above him. He let out a groan at the sight of you, a thin sheen of sweat on your brown skin. Slipping his hands from yours, he reached up and took your breasts in his hands. He massaged them tenderly and pinched at your nipples as a small blissed out smile graced your lips.

Then, with a renewed fervor, Frank wrapped his lips around your clit and flicked at it with his tongue.

You let out a loud gasp as Frank tried to wretch another orgasm out of you so soon after the first. Eyes shooting open, your hands flew to cover his on your breasts, once again desperate for something to ground you.

“Frank,” You whined, “Frank, I can’t—”

“Sure you can.” He said, lifting his head for a moment. He rested his cheek against your inner thigh and watched as your hips began to buck ever so slightly, missing his contact. “See? You wanna come for me again, dontcha?”

Of course you wanted to. Without thinking twice, you reached down and took a light hold on his short, dark hair. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, making you giggle — which became a gasp when he flattened his tongue on your clit. “That’s a good girl.” He mumbled into you.

It didn’t take long before you were struggling to control your hips. Not that he minded. You were bucking into his mouth, reveling in the way your clit slid across his tongue. Frank let you do this for a while, enjoying the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Then, the begging started, and he nearly came in his boxers. “Frank, please! Oh god, it’s too much, but I’m so close — baby, please!”

How could he deny you when you sounded like an angel? He held your hips down with one hand and quickly slid two fingers into your wet heat, curling them to rub on your G-spot. “I want you to come for me again, sweetheart. You can do that, can’t ya?” Just as quickly, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Frank felt your walls tightened around his fingers, and, almost like it was pulled out of you by an invisible force, you came harder than the first time. Your legs tightened around his head and began to shake as you cried out, gripping tightly onto Frank’s hair. You couldn’t even tell how loud you were with all the blood rushing in your ears, but Frank was sure he heard someone bang on the wall.

Tough, he responded to the neighbor in his head.

Then, finally letting up on you, he kissed up your torso and your breasts to your lips, running his tongue across yours. You moaned at the taste of your juices and pulled him closer by the nape of his neck. When you both pulled away for air, you palmed him through his boxers. “It’s my turn now.” You said, pecking his lips once more before lowering yourself to the ground.

“Baby, you don’t have to.”

“And miss an opportunity to make you feel good? No, sir.” You answered playfully as you took off your shirt and threw it behind you.

Although you noticed the way his dick twitched at that last sentence, you decided to save that for another time. Right now, you just wanted to remind Frank of how much you love him.

Getting comfortable between his legs, you pulled his dick out of the confines of his boxers, admiring the way it slapped up against his torso. You lowered your head to drag your cheek across his length. One hand in your curls and coils, he gave you a small smile. “God, you’re pretty, y’know that?”

“Even like this?”

He shuddered and gave a weak chuckle as your warm breath fanned across his hard cock. “Especially like this.”

Gently, you lifted and licked a broad stripe on the underside of his cock. After a small smile at the groan he let out, you took the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Just as he began to catch his breath, you decided to slowly take his entire length into your mouth. You did your best to fight off a smile as Frank’s eyes rolled back, letting out a silent moan. You knew how much he loved it when you started slow — it gave him an opportunity to just revel in the hot, wet feeling of your throat, instead of just chasing after his own release.

He knew how much you liked it, too. There was just something about being able to reduce Frank Castle to moans and groans that pushed you to take him down your throat over and over again. It was an agonizingly slow but euphoric process. You spent a bit of time licking at his head, then you let him watch your lips stretch around his cock, fighting your body’s need to gag at the intrusion. You’d stay there as long as you could, enjoying the way Frank had to clutch onto the couch cushions to control himself and not thrust into you, and finally, you’d come back up. With a swirl of your tongue around his length for good measure.

It wasn’t until you looked him directly in the eyes with his dick deep in your throat that he had to pull you off him. At first, you were confused and thought you’d done something wrong. Then you watched his eyes shut tight as he used his free hand to harshly grip the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm. He was met with your mischievous smile when his eyes opened once more. “You are gonna be the death of me, girl.”

You wiped a line of spit off your cheek, “Well, I think that’s a great way to go.”

“C’mere.” With a quick chuckle, he pulled you into his lap and kissed you like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. With your delicate hands on either side of his face, he was suddenly worried about losing you. Not to some criminal or tragic accident, but to his own stupidity. So many times he’d missed out on things that could have been good for him, and he still managed to find the one person who understood him effortlessly. Almost like telepathy, you were both in tune. He knew he couldn’t find that in anyone else — and even if he could, he didn’t want to. He wanted you. He pulled away from you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment as you looked in his eyes, searching for whatever he was feeling. And you found it — the same fear you had, of losing each other. You smiled gently and stroked a thumb across his stubbly cheek. “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

You kissed him once more, moaning as he circled his tongues around yours. His calloused hand slid up your back and into your coils to pull you as close as he could. As you readjusted on his lap, you felt his hard length press through your folds ever so slightly. You let out a loud whine at that, but Frank only shushed you, sliding his hands back down your body. “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, baby. Lift up for me.” You lifted your hips, so Frank could take hold of his dick and drag it through your juices. He pecked you on the cheek when you let out another sigh, giving himself a few strokes before holding the head at your entrance. “Slide down slow, yeah?”

You nodded at his direction, grateful for them as you slowly lowered your hips. You felt the tension in your body roll away as you slid onto his hard cock. Your eyebrows knit together and your nails digging into his shoulders, you could hardly focus on anything besides how completely Frank filled you up. Soon, you’d completely sat down, and Frank was quite literally balls deep inside you. You finally managed to look up at him, “Is this okay?”

“Okay?” Frank scoffed, the rare playful look in his eyes. “I can barely control myself, sweetheart. You’re so fucking tight.”

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as you began to grind into him, “I like when you feel like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Your breath hitched as the head of his cock just barely grazed your G-spot. “Like to remind you it’s okay to feel good.”

At that, Frank couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling you down into a kiss. All teeth and tongue, he squeezed lightly when you pulled away. “You’re so good at that, aren’t ya?” He grunted, feeling your cunt tighten around him. “Taking care of me? You’re too good to me.”

Then, he started to thrust up into you, knocking wind out of you. Your moans were getting louder with every thrust — the only thing you could hear was the wet sound of Frank’s cock sliding in and out of you with his grunts and groans matching his pace. “Frank,” You called out, “Baby, I’m close!”

“You come whenever you want to, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come all over my dick, okay?”

As if on command, the coil in your stomach snapped and white hot pleasure filled you. You buried your face in Frank’s neck as your juices slid down his cock and dripped onto his balls. Then, he lifted your hips just enough to give him space and began to thrust up into you again, fast and hard. Through the loud slaps of skin, he heard you let out a laugh mixed with a moan, the overstimulation too much for your mind to comprehend. “Why do you always do this?” You laughed through a whine as you tightened your grip on the couch behind his head.

“What can I say?” He groaned as your pussy fluttered around him. “I like making you come.”

He turned his head to suck on the spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You cried out when he placed a bite there at the same time his cock found that sweet patch of euphoria deep inside you. “Was that your spot right there?” He grunted as he repositioned you ever so slightly to ensure that his cock would hit it again. He gave you one hard thrust to make sure, letting out a loud groan when your pussy contracted once more. “I think I found it, baby.” He said teasingly. “Hold onto me.”

From there, you were along for the ride. In and out, in and out, his dick slammed into your G-spot over and over, pushing you closer to the edge. Frank was getting close, too. With your body pressed against his and your hot, wet cunt tightening with every other thrust, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But even as he felt his balls begin to tighten as they slapped up against your ass, he was only thinking about how to give you the best orgasm.

In less than a second, he had one hand on the nape of your neck, lightly squeezing on those pressure points that made your vision hazy in the best way. His other hand snuck between your bodies and began rubbing small, tight circles into your clit. All the while, his thrusts never let up. The white-hot pleasure was surrounding you from all sides, and you knew it would all bubble over in a matter of moments.

Frank turned his head to whisper in your ear. “I need you to come for me one last time, sweetheart. You can do that for me, right?” He circled your clit faster when you nodded, letting out a loud whine. “Atta girl. Just be a good girl and let that pussy grip my cock, alright? Then I’ll fill you up just how you like it.”

It only took one, two, three more thrusts before you were falling off the edge. Harder than all your previous orgasms, your entire body was trembling. You heard Frank’s whispers of praise, but all you could focus on was the way his cock twitched inside of you. You used what little energy you had left to squeeze your cunt around him one last time, pulling Frank over the edge with you. His deep grunts and groans were music to your ears as he thrusted all his come into you, hard and slow.

Then, he lowered your hips slowly so you could rest your legs and sit in his lap. You rested on Frank’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you, absentmindedly tracing shapes into your back as you both caught your breath. Every now and then, your pussy would flutter with aftershocks of your last orgasm, making Frank hold back a few groans. With your hands around his neck as played with the little hairs at the base, you turned your head to look at him. “How are your stitches?”

“Surprisingly sturdy.” He replied with a short, exhausted laugh. “Thanks, doc.”

“Anytime.”

Frank let his head rest on the back of the couch as he turned to look you in the eye. “Y’know what, sweetheart?”

“What?”

“We should get married.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. I know a guy.”

A smile spread across your lips. “We should probably shower first. I don’t want to be stinky in our wedding pictures.”

“Who said there’ll be pictures?”

“There will be pictures if I have to take them myself.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. As long as I can make you mine.”

You traced a small heart on his cheek. “I’m already yours, Frank Castle. Forever and always.”

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