#and I didn’t think she would ever use it as ammo against me but she DID

[terrainofheartfelt]

.

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Can we have Andrew and Reader transforming into half demon?

You can do it with Ashley together with Reader (separately) if you want.

Reader would have been with the Graves family since episode 1, as she was an exchange student but ended up being abandoned along with her Graves siblings.

She would be a cold, relaxed, indifferent person, a little sociopathic, a little temperamental but kind when they meet.

Reader would have been injured in the Hitman confrontation when she went to save Andrew (let's be honest, this kid would never be able to shoot the Hitman the first time with him being all nervous).

So to treat her injuries correctly they decided to use the demon to heal her, the demon doesn't like the idea of healing someone but he decides to heal her but still angry with this 'disrespect' the demon turns her into a half demon (similar to Jennifer Body the film).

That if she wants to stay alive she has to eat human flesh or drink blood.

If I had a nickel for every time I was requested to write a reader who’s an exchange student staying with the Graves Family- I’d have 4 nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened 4 times already

Andrew Graves x Half Demon!Reader

Andrew’s head was pounding

His eyes were wide with terror as he stared down at you in his arms

The events kept playing in his head, over and over like a broken record

He had found the hitman in Ashley’s spontaneously stupid game of hide-and-seek

Although, what was she expecting?

It was an amateur with a gun against a skilled killer with a knife

Of course he wasn’t going to do well!

So, you did the only thing you could think of to save him

Save the boy who you’ve lived alongside since high school

Who’s been nothing but kind and patient to you..

Push him away as the hitman lunged

So, here you lay..

Barely breathing in his arms

While the hitman laid dead nearby

Andrew, in a blind rage finally fired the gun. Draining it dry of any bullets in there in hopes of killing him

And, he achieved his goal

The hitman was dead

And it didn’t look like long til you’d be you…

“Well- you’ve successfully wasted all of our ammo.” Ashley grumbled, picking up her discarded gun. She wiped off any grass blades or dirt that stuck to the pristine silver of it.

If Andrew wasn’t still in shock, he would yell at her. Yell at her for having the audacity to worry more about her gun’s ammo than their dead friend! Yell at her for foolishly trusting him to kill the hitman and then running off! If you hadn’t jumped in, he would be dead…

He should be dead.

Andrew furrowed his brow, tears forming much to his dismay. As he shut his eyes, they fell in twin streams. His hands shook, gripping on to your body as it slowly lost its warmth. He quietly sobbed, trying his best to not make them too loud or pathetic. If he had been better with the gun…if he didn’t hesitate…you would still be…

“Andy!” He felt something cold tap the back of his head, breaking him from his mellow dramatic moment. Ashley stared down at him with frustration, “Come on! Let’s ditch the bodies, someone was bound to hear your bitch crying by now..”

“Are you serious?!” Andrew stood up, still holding you in his arms. He thrusted his arms forward, pushing Ashley back with your dead weight, “Look at her! She’s dying!” He was emotional. Erratic. But he didn’t care.

“I can see that!” His sister pushed his arms back, and Andrew held you close to his chest, “Now put her down before anyone comes by!”

“…no.”

He wasn’t yelling anymore, just staring down at you. Ashley’s eyes widened, before her face became a scowl.

“No?”

“No!”

Ashley, pinched the bridge of her nose, “Okay- yeah- ssuuurreeee! Let’s just carry a dead body around! Want me to stick my hand up her ass and sit her on my lap like a puppet so you can pretend you’re talking with her?” She roughly poked Andrew’s forehead, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Well I’m not leaving her!” Andrew snapped back, making Ashley flinch ever so slightly. He didn’t seem to care though as he turned his attention back down to you.

Both were quiet for a while, probably longer than they should have because people would be coming by soon to see the commotion. Ashley could see the thoughts running behind her brother’s eyes, clearly thinking of something to fix this…to fix you.

She didn’t understand what the fuss was about though. You were just dead weight before, and now you are literally. Plus, she never liked the looks her brother gave you. You were better off dead in her eyes, and if anyone was going to kick the bucket, it would’ve been you…

But Andrew didn’t want to leave you behind. Sentimental bastard. What was he expecting? You to just- snap out of being dead? It wasn’t that easy!

….or….was it?

Ashley’s hand drifted over the front pocket of her shorts, the imprint of the demon trinket visible. Andrew saw her subconscious motions out of the corner of his eye and perked up. Where hope formed on his face, Ashley scowled.

“No!”

“Give it here!”

Andrew set your body down, lunging for his sister for the trinket. The pair fell to the ground, wrestling one another for the trinket.

“Let! Go!”

“No! It’s mine!”

In the end, Ashley didn’t win. Andrew, for as gangly as he is, was still stronger than her and managed to get the trinket away. He cupped it in his hands, standing up and observing it quizzically. There was an ominous aura to this dream catch esc thing, but he didn’t care.

“The demon..”

“Andrew, no!”

“Let’s take Y/N to the cultists lair—“

“Andrew!”

“Summon the demon—“

“You asshole- are you even listening?!”

“And get her back!”

Andrew grinned from ear to ear, his arms held out at the genius of his plan.

So- this is what it felt like to be Andrew, Ashley lamented. She got why he was such a stick in the mud all the time now.

Before she could object, Andrew was already picking up your body.

“Come on! Let’s go! Everyone should be gone by now!”

Despite Ashley’s insistence that it wouldn’t work and they should cut their losses, Andrew persisted

Eventually the two snuck you into the cultists’ meeting room

Shockingly, everything was still set up from when Andrew had previously visited.

It made for a quick and easy ritual

Ashley’s demon friend was less than happy to be bothered though….

“tAr SoUl….wHaT iS tHiS?”

The dark, red eyed blob stared angrily up at Ashley- who gestured to your dead corpse like a game show assistant would show off a car.

“A body?…”

“I rEqUiRe FrEsH sOuLs..” the demon skittered around the body, prodding it with its tendrils, “tHiS iS aLrEaDy DeAd!”

“I know but-“ Ashley groaned, pointing to Andrew with her thumb, “My dumbass brother draws the line at necrophilia and wants her back.”

“I’m sorry- WHAT?!”

Andrew objected, completely disregarding the fact that they were in the presence of a demon, “Do you REALLY think the only reason I want to bring her back is so I can have sex with her?!”

“Well?” Ashley looked at him blankly, “Isn’t it?”

“…..” Andrew adverted his eyes to the ground, “It’s…partly true…”

“I fucking knew it.” Ashley sighed, completely exasperated by her brother’s idiocy, “I can’t believe you’re using MY demon connections so you can get your dick wet without feeling like a bad person! News flash Annnddyyyyy~” she gave him that shit eating grin she knew he despised, “You’ve done much worse.”

“Shut your whore mouth!”

“Make me pussy!”

“EnOuGh!”

The siblings stopped their bickering, Andrew pausing as he had grabbed the collar of Ashley’s shirt. They stared at the demon, looking more like their parent just scolded them than a demon yelling at them to stop their bickering.

The demon floated very close to Andrew’s face, causing him to release his sister and step back, “yOu WiSh To UsE mY pOwErS tO rEvIvE tHe MoRtAl?”

Andrew nodded.

“tHeN wHaT iS iT yOu OfFeR?..”

Andrew’s face contorted as he tried to think, “Uhhhh…”

Ashley stood behind the demon, smugly smiling at her cornered brother, “Haha! Bet ya didn’t think this far, didya?”

“Shut up woman!—“

Andrew immediately regretted raising his voice, as the demon’s red eyes glowed menacingly- almost staring holes into his retinas. He gulped, wishing he could tell Ashley to call off her guard demon- but that would only make things worse for him. Here he was, with no souls to offer a demon- and the demon already didn’t like him for his foolish request and yelling at his ‘tar soul’.

“wElL?…” the demon broke the silence that wafted through the air.

Andrew’s eyes widened, “O-Okay! Ummm..” he searched his brain for anything, any idea on how to revive you when he blurted out the first thing he landed on, “Souls! I can get you two souls for bringing back Y/N’s!”

“aNd WhErE aRe ThEsE sOuLs?”

“Well, I don’t have them now-“ The demon growled and Andrew tensed, “But! But! I can get them to you very soon! Yeah! How’s that sound?”

The red eyed blob stared at Andrew for a few moments, clearly considering his deal before it turned around and made its way to your corpse, “VeRy WeLl…BuT yOuR fAiLuRe FoR pAyMeNt UpFrOnT wIlL cOmE wItH cOnSeQuEnCeS..”

With those words, the room went pitch black. By the time the fluorescent lights returned, the demon was gone. Andrew lunged for your body, kneeling down beside you.

“Y/N?…” he shook you a little, “Y/N?”

His face faltered for a moment, fear coursing through him before he felt your body move. Your breathing was slow…but you were breathing! He cupped your face in his hands, waiting anxiously for you to open your eyes.

And you did.

And then you spoke.

“..A-….Andrew?”

And like that- you were back!

Sore, with some blood gone

But back nonetheless!

You felt….strange though

Upon coming down from his high of overwhelming joy, Andrew noticed just how cold you were

You didn’t feel chilly at all

But you felt cold to the touch

Along with that, you couldn’t get the taste of blood out of your mouth

It was hard to decipher which was the result of having been a corpse for half an hour…

…or what was from being brought back by a demon

But, Andrew had a debt to pay

So that can be worked out later

Returning to the motel parking lot, the hitman’s car was still there

And no one was around yet

So you took that and set off

You slept most of the ride

It was a rough night of…ya know

Dying

So you deserved to sleep

Though your dreams were…strange

Images of red

Blood spewing as you bit into the neck of a screaming person

You didn’t get a good look at them until their body was a mangled mess of torn limbs with bits of flesh taken out of them

Your face stained with blood

The delicious sensation filling your mouth

At first you chalked this up to a guilt dream

You feeling bad for eating that cultist a while back

But…no

This wasn’t a guilt dream

You never feasted on that man like an animal

You never went back for seconds, depraved of the taste

And in those dreams you never felt what you were feeling in that moment

…desire for more

Your concerning dream was interrupted by a sudden sensation of pain as a projectile was thrown at your head.

“Ow!” You sat up, your hand shooting to the assaulted spot on your head, “What the?..”

“I told you to wake her!” Andrew hissed.

“I did!” Ashley objected, “My shoe woke her up!”

“You little..”

Andrew’s grumbling trailed off, turning to look at you from the driver’s seat. You gave him a reassuring nod to let him know you were okay. He sighed in slight relief. How that the- initial pain in your head was gone, you looked out the window to see just where you three were. The backseat passenger window showed you a parking with cars lining the spots as far as you could see.

“Where…are we?” You asked, turning back to look at the siblings, “And what are we doing here?”

“Cheapskate here says it’s free parking.” Ashley replied bluntly, not even giving Andrew’s annoyed look a glance.

You looked between them, “Don’t we- need to pay that demon back? How’s free parking going to get us two souls?”

“Go on Annnndddd—“ Ashley paused as Andrew gave her a look, “…drew. Andrew. Tell Y/N your brilliant plan!”

Andrew sighed, resting his hands on the wheel as he tried to explain the plan, “Alright, so…we need two souls for that demon. We- are also running low on money. So…we’re going to kill two birds with one stone.”

You nodded, though his and Ashley’s drastically different expressions told you there was more. So- you prodded.

“And those birds arreee?”

“…our parents.”

The rational thing was to claim that they couldn’t do such a thing! Their parents took you in after all!

…although you’d be lying

Mrs Graves really only agreed because she’d get a cut of the exchange student program funds

Other than provide you a roof, she ignored you like she did her other children

Same goes for her husband, who didn’t do much of anything beside give you awkward hellos before he went to work

So you weren’t really against robbing and killing them

The events played as normal, pretending the fire that “killed everyone” was sensational news coverage and you all were fine!

You’re “politely” told to go to bed early, bunking with Ashley in the basement while Andrew took the couch.

Though, being honest…

You didn’t trust yourself around Ashley alone

Ever since you’ve been alive you’d had this…animalistic urge to tear into someone like a carnivorous animal

To hold them to the ground and watch the light leave their fear filled eyes as you tore out their throat

And Ashley was defenseless

Sleeping just inches from you in the spare bed

Her gun was empty, you knew this

So she wouldn’t shoot you

So you did the both of you a favor, and got out of there

Your eyes lingered on the basement stairs, the bed and Ashley’s sleeping form still very in much in your view. You had to tear your eyes away to avoid running back down there and giving in to the voice in your head telling- no, demanding you devour her.

Your relationship with her was complicated enough, and you knew with enough convincing you would. She was always cold with you, trying to tear a wedge between you and Andrew as you both got closer. But she also was the closest thing you had to a sister or any actual familial connection. You don’t think you could bear that guilt.

You drew your eyes to the couch, Andrew fast asleep on it. You could trust yourself around him, you know you could. The voice had nothing against Andrew. So you crossed over to the couch, kneeling down beside it.

Andrew’s unconscious state was fragile, stirring almost immediately as he felt a presence join him. His eyes opened with some strain, his voice littered with tiredness.

“Y/N?…” he sat up, rubbing his eyes, “Did Ashley kick you out?..”

“No.” You responded. You debated telling him why you were here if Ashley hadn’t kicked you out, but what could you tell him? ‘Hey I wanted to eat your sister’? You couldn’t do that. So instead you asked, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

A small blush painted Andrew’s cheeks, as he nodded slightly. He pulled the covers aside, scooting closer to the back of the couch so you’d have room. You climbed onto the couch with him, your arms wrapping around his torso. You felt him shiver from the closeness, almost forgetting how cold you were. You didn’t care though. You craved the closeness more than you craved tearing into Andrew’s flesh and eating his heart in front of him.

You furrowed your brow, pushing those thoughts down as Andrew slowly covered you two up.

“You…alright?” Andrew tentatively asked. Obviously you weren’t alright, by this time last night you were dead.

You racked your mind about what to say, nuzzling into his sweater for comfort as you spoke, “I’m- fine….just ever since I….”

“Died?”

“Yeah, that….I’ve had….urges.”

“Like- what?”

“…like devouring someone like an animal.”

He went quiet after that. You can’t exactly say what you expected reaction wise. Disgust? Fear? Silence felt appropriate to be fair. You weren’t anticipating his next words when he processed the information…

“…three birds with one stone then.”

The plan went as the siblings had- semi planned.

Scaring the parents with an unloaded gun into the basement

Removing the limit from Mrs Graves credit card so they’d have some cash

Handing their souls to the demon

And Andrew leaving you to enjoy your meal

You felt like an animal. A hungry, ravenous animal.

Your breath was shaky, eyes wide with horror at what you’d done. You and the basement were bloodied mess, and your host parents were mangled beyond recognition.

It didn’t help that you were on your hands and knees, chin drenched with blood as what you had done replayed in your mind. The sounds of the basement stairs creaking broke you out of your trance. You cowered momentarily before realizing it was Andrew.

“Wow- you..” he paused, covering his mouth as he gagged from the smell of blood, “Really did a number on them..”

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. You trembled, falling further to the ground than you already were. Your forehead met the basement floor as you sobbed.

“I’m sorry!” You wailed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

It was all you could say. What else could you? You shook and sobbed like the wounded animal you were as Andrew slowly approached you. He fell to his knees in front of you, and pulled you into a hug. His parents’ blood stained his sweater, but he didn’t care. He’ll wash it later.

You trembled in his arms as he rubbed gentle circles into your back, soft shushes filling your ears as he comforted you. You buried your face into his shoulder, shaking and crying from what you’d done. This was different than when you ate the cultist back at the apartment, then you didn’t feel so….dehumanized.

He was prepared like a dish. Not bitten into like a wolf delivering the killing blow to a deer. He was eaten for survival. They were eaten to satiate this desire you had.

Though to Andrew, this downside was worth it, so long as he could hold you again.

[cloveroctobers]

SAVE YOUR BREATH — Armando Aretas [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: This was inspired by the show FROM and this fic has a slight crossover with the show that I squeezed into this plot. I initially had no plans to take it further than a certain symbol. I was supposed to end it there (while also keeping this short) but I kept writing lol! If you haven’t watched you should for this season especially! Also loosely inspired by Midnight mass 🫣 & just know picking songs that fit the spooky vibe or fall aesthetic is also a job y’all 😆

S/N: If you’re a reader who’s been impacted by the hurricane(s) I hope you and your loved ones are safe during this difficult time! 🫶🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: "Give me one good reason not to kill you." "I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible." + SCENARIOS — 6. Visiting an apple orchard.

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando wants to avenge your death but your attempts to make him let it slide, brings on a new level of danger he’s not all that prepared for.

🏷️: @violetmuses + @believeinthefireflies95 + @nobodygetsza

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Giving Armando space wasn’t really effective since he can still feel you hovering, whether you were behind him lounging against the wall and slicing up some apples to eat while you kept quiet for the most part, or just you simply letting your ghost eyes chill through him.

He’s been on his computer for weeks and didn’t want any help. Any wink of sleep he got was not something he allowed on his own, he’s been functioning off caffeine and eye drops to keep him going trying to track down your killer. Mike’s been telling him to let him handle it, since there was a part of Mike that knew Armando would be back to his old ways, especially after losing you. Now that Mike was slowly building something with his son, he didn’t want Armando to throw it all away. Which definitely brought off heated energy because who was Mike Lowrey to tell Armando how to get justice? Armando had his mother to thank for that, even in death, she was still controlling his life. It has been months since he was on the run and since you played a part in his hiding, that meant you had to serve time, whereas Mike pulled a deal for Armando to work for AMMO that would amount up to the added time he needed to serve, You got the short end of the stick.

No shock there—and to make a long story short, you gave as good as you could in prison but Armando’s mother had it planned that if something were to ever happen to her, she had people that would take you out as well, since she had this unhealthy jealousy when it came to you and Armando.

Nothing ever become of you and Armando but she saw it before you two ever had the chance to fully explore.

So when Mike had to deliver the news of your passing, Armando felt like what was left of him died.

Your relationship with his mother was also very complex. Isabel Aretas was the one who stole you from your own family at just eight years old. Nothing Isabel did made logical sense, you would think that the one person that made your child happy, you would still want your child to have some sort of happiness so that they wouldn’t be alone right? Wrong. Isabel strived to be the only one in her son’s life, out of some unresolved issues and because your bond with Armando was also strong, she wanted to take that with her as well.

It took time but it happened.

In her mind, this would make Armando the deadliest kingpin there could ever be. It builds character, which was her excuse for masking her love as manipulation. When you got away from her, you wanted Armando out too but that resulted in many things with Isabel calling you a, “ungrateful bitch,” and Armando being too blind to see how Isabel was going to get them both killed.

She almost succeeded.

“I think you should just let this go, you’re able to start this new life now. Even if you hate it, maybe it’ll be worth it.” You tried to tell Armando, who wouldn’t bring his red eyes away from the screen.

His brows furrowed as he harshly clicked around on his mouse, “No. I won’t. I’m doing this for us.”

“It’s not going to bring me back.” You state, “Karma will get them one way or another.”

“I don’t have faith in that.”

But he had the answers!

“Well maybe you should have some faith in me.”

“Maybe if you minded your business, you wouldn’t be where you’re at.” Armando snapped, which caught you off guard.

You wouldn’t make excuses for him.

That was low and he knew it because his eyes clenched not long after those words escaped his lips. “I’m sorry—

A gush of wind was all that he heard, which means that you actually left him on his own. It was for a minute too, he kept calling out to you like a crazy person in his apartment as the days went on but you wouldn’t break. Sure he was persistent but you were also very stubborn and didn’t mind making him sweat it out.

There was no way he tried to shift his mother’s actions and deem them as your fault. She took you from your family as a child, causing an accident where you couldn’t remember the last eight years of your life—only the new image the Aretas’ built—killed your father instantly in that accident, left your mother in the hospital with a lengthy recovery just to worry herself into sickness and die not knowing if you were ever safe, made you believe you were living with the Aretas out of false pretenses, made everything so squeaky clean that for years you couldn’t find any true history of your past life, tried to mold you into her one of her many soldiers, continued to lie to about not only you but Armando’s upbringing, and gaslit the both of you once those truth’s came to light.

Isabel was taken out of the game first but at least you were able to go out with a smile on your face, Mrs. Aretas couldn’t say the same.

When you did return, it was when Armando found out the whereabouts of your killer. She was free from jail, ironically five months after your murder—the system pinned it on another inmate—and would be down at the apple orchard with her little family.

“Arman…this isn’t a good idea.” You appeared behind him, as he’s flicking the collar of his leather jacket up after sipping into it.

He scoffs, “Appearing from the shadows today? After you literally ghosted me? is rich I have to say.”

“And I had every right to. This vengefulness is making you sick, haven’t you learned this yet? What is it going to take for you to get it through your thick ass skull, huh?” You follow him as he opens the secret compartment in his room that contained all of his weapons.

You were positive Mike did not know about this stash. Armando probably shouldn’t have any of this kind of weaponry in this temporary home Mike had him set up in. Regardless, Armando was smart he wouldn’t just take these handouts since he knew they came at a cost and had numerous bunkers over the globe. If he wanted to be gone again, he could be.

“You need to get out of my way,” Armando says to you as you simply cross your arms after he comes back out with a case.

You tilt your head, “or what?”

With swiftness, Armando pulls a knife that looks awfully familar as he shoves it right underneath your chin, “Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

Flashing your pretty teeth at him with your arms still folded you respond, “I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible. Is it genius?”

Armando blinks, “doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt?”

“…that’s the thing, you don’t want to hurt me. You want to hurt everybody else.” You reason, which proves to be right as Armando rolls his eyes before removing the blade from your cold skin.

Sighing Armando puts his back to you, “I really don’t have time for this.”

The sarcasm is heavy in your tone, “Sure but you have time to execute a murder in front of who knows how many people and children?”

“No need to worry,” Armando smirks, “I’m the better shooter anyway.”

Huffing you follow Armando as he starts making his way through the apartment, making sure he has everything before closing the door in your face. Of course you throw your hands up before walking right through the wall to follow the man down the hallway. If he was going to do this, then you were going to be right beside him trying to get him to change his mind before he actually got to the orchard.

It was funny really, Armando going to the one place you loved being. Something you could never explain, you always loved apples since you came into Armando’s life. Apple scented things, favorite fruit and snack were apples, loved baking anything that had to do with apples—not that you had that much time to do that either catching bodies and all but in your sprinkle of free time you did. This was only explained once you knew your background, that you weren’t from another place in South America but North. You had grandparents who owned a farm and were still looking for you after your parents passed.

Your parents were in debt to the wrong people.

The Aretas, so they took the one valuable thing and that happened to be you.

Now here you were not getting to enjoy the sights of the orchard because Armando was out for blood. In your honor. Past you who was just doing these things because you knew you could, would be proud but once you got away from the dark of this game, living the life you could have? Changed how you viewed the world. It drastically changed again once Armando Aretas showed up at your door.

“What are you looking to accomplish by doing this?”

Armando sighed as he opens the car door, “I went over this already.”

“Okay…so what are you going to tell Mike and Secada once they find out?” You inquire as you appear on the passenger side, “The first person they’re going to look for is you, you know that right?”

“I have an alibi.”

“Don’t say something lame like visiting my mausoleum all the way in Massachusetts…knowing you can’t leave the state alone.”

Armando goes quiet which lets you know that was exactly what he was planning on using. He hated having you be one step ahead of him and it showed. The blank expression he shot you, had you snorting into your hand and with a shake of your head you start to comment before Armando interupts.

“Save your breath.” Armando mutters

Moving the seatbelt with a sigh, so you can free your braids you say, “no, I don’t think I will. We went long enough not speaking after you disrespected me by playing the blame game.”

He briefly glances over at you, hand tightening on the wheel, he regretted saying that to you, “I didn’t mean any of it, amiga. I was in my head and when I’m in my head—

“You don’t listen,” you finish with a sharp nod, “which is why I’m telling you that this a bad idea.”

He blinks, “is that a immortal feeling or something?”

You laugh again, “I don’t…think that’s a thing? It’s just natural to not want you to end up, you know? Dead.”

“Appreciate that but the only way I get to move on, is if I do this.”

“Until something else feeds that desire to kill again.”

“We’re always going to be killers, though.” Armando replies, “whether you like it or not in death or life. That’s just what we were made to be.”

“And it’s sad that you can’t see that you can be much more than this.” You tell, “Maybe someday you’ll see that.”

Armando hums, “Are you supposed to be my guardian Angel?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that amigo.” You rest your head back against the headrest, “you did say we were killers and I don’t think murders get to hold angel status.”

“Icarus was a fallen Angel though.”

“Touché.”

A small silence falls over the car ride while being surrounded by the busy life style of Miami. To find quality farms required traveling a good distance so Armando appreciated the silence, to gather his thoughts together. He could have gotten there faster if he purchased another bike but he was very limited now being underneath everyone’s eyes.

With the way Armando drove, it felt like less than over an hour where the palm trees started to fade and the grass roads become more prominent. He’s getting off the exit and there’s a lot less traffic around this area, which worked in Armando’s favor since you knew he preferred to go for the silent kill but if it had to get rowdy he could handle that as well. If there were kids there, which you hoped there wouldn’t be many, you prayed that they would be leaving the site before Armando got into position.

“Would you look at that,” Armando pulls your attention away from the passenger window, “Lime green jeep gladiator, we’re just in time.”

You deeply inhale, sitting up in the passenger seat while Armando keeps his distance, “get the case ready.”

“No.”

The dark haired man with the thick facial hair cuts his eyes at you, “fine. Take the wheel, then.”

And his eyes told you not to argue with him, as he twists to the back of the vehicle to grab said item.

“There’s witnesses.” You state, letting go of the wheel as Armando plops the case right into your lap.

Armando nods, “I’ll aim for the tires, make it seem like they got a flat.”

“…do you know if their kid is with them?”

“I know how to aim,” he argues, moving one hand to the case in your lap to unlock for his gun of choice along with a silencer.

Which didn’t answer your question.

He’s getting ready to roll down his window, your eyes go into slits as a black Escalade cuts you two off. You hold onto the arm of the door as Armando tries to swerve to the right as the Escalade also break checks him.

“Arman,” you start, it’s a feeling that felt like the rolling of waves in the beginning of a storm but warm and you haven’t felt warmth in some time.

He’s slamming on breaks himself, that you feel your toes curl just waiting to slam into the gladiator. Yet the gladiator is off to the left in front of the Escalade that’s attempting to shield your view of the car.

“The hell?” Armando questions and you feel your breathing halt.

In front of you was a tree blocking the pathway to the orchard.

“T-This is it. This is what I tried to warn you of.” You say with shaky breath as you glance to meet Armando’s eyes.

There’s a furrow in Armando’s brows, trying to decipher what you were saying to him. He��s caught off guard by you as he’s yanked out of the driver’s side. You feel a pull to your right, which made you frown because why could you feel this touch when it didn’t belong to Armando?

You’re shoved to your knees beside Armando who’s trying to move the hands that hold him, away until a gun is placed to his temple. The doors to the gladiator are opened, revealing your killer and her wife, who quickly grabs hold of their five year old son.

“No. This isn’t right. I killed you.” She pointed at you, still keeping her distance behind what you and Armando believed to be her bodyguards.

Armando keeps his head still but his eyes move to peek at you.

“You can see me?” You whisper before looking around at your surroundings, “…we shouldn’t be here.”

Your killer laughs, “no, you shouldn’t.” She steps forward, eyes are harsh as she glared at you before shushing her partner while she moves in closer, “did you two come here to kill me and my family? Big mistake.”

Armando shakes his head while admitting, “not your family, just you.”

You wish you could have shushed him in this moment too.

There’s a film of gray that spills over the sky followed by the rustle of trees. You don’t feel safe and not just because everyone can suddenly see you now. Where you resided when you weren’t with Armando, allowed you to see many things you still couldn’t explain. Perhaps it took time to make sense and you didn’t have anyone that worked as a guide. In essence this was just like life.

No answers and just winging it.

However you’ve seen this scene plenty of times before. The getting stuck by a road blockage, always a large tree with vehicles trying to find a way around. It was a cycle before they arrived to the town.

“The town.” You inform causing all eyes to turn to you, “we need to leave, now.”

Your killer huffs, “you keep saying that. You want to leave so bad, here.”

And with that she snatched the gun from one of her bodyguards and aims right at you, firing the gun. At least for this death, you don’t even feel it but you can only imagine how traumatizing this must have been for Armando.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Waking with a deep gasp that feels as if it’s been punched into your chest, you jolt upwards.

“Whoa, you’re okay.” Armando’s voice is heard to the left of you, his hand rests on your thigh covered blanket.

Your eyes are wide while they connect with his dark ones.

A woman’s voice remarks next, “holy shit! You weren’t lying…and there’s no bullet wound, not even a scar.” Her thumb swipes over your forehead, which you slap away.

“Sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender, “I should introduce myself, I’m Kristi. Armando brought you here in hopes that you’d come back to life. He uh, proved me wrong about you being dead since apparently you were already dead?”

You flick your eyes back to Armando who takes hold of your hand and that’s when you notice they’re stained, “that’s right…”

A click of a gun is heard next, making all eyes turn to a dark skinned man in a blazer.

Not this again!

“Boyd! I don’t think that’s necessary.” Kristi tries to reason.

Boyd scoffs, “I think it is. Sure we get visitors but not ones like her. So you’re gonna tell me the truth and not what I want to fucking hear, are you one of those things because I’ve been waiting to trap one?”

Armando quickly moves to stand in front of the bed, blocking this Boyd guy’s view of you, “Even if she was whatever you’re accusing her to be, why would she tell the person that has a gun pointed at her?”

“That’s fair,” Boyd shrugs, “we just like to have some sort of answers in this fucked up town.”

“Join the club,” you laugh, “since I died, nothing has made much sense. And now I’m back alive or at least somewhat? In this place I’ve only had visions of?”

Boyd starts to lower his gun and shares a glance with the wavy haired woman, who introduced herself as: Kristi.

“…I think we have a lot to discuss before we let you two freely roam the town.”

Armando glances at you from over his shoulder as he speaks, “the town…is that the official name of this depressing looking place?”

“It’s easier to call it as such.” Kristi informs.

Armando realizes that you’re more connected than you let on.

“Sorry about this,” Boyd says as he cuffs Armando who’s confused, “we found some bodies that don’t belong here, along with a young boy who needs looking after, and it’s obvious you were all together and involved in some shit. So I’m going to have to separate you two while we get some more information.”

“Are you fucken serious?” Armando gruffs, “we’ll talk, we have nothing to hide but it seems like you dumbasses do.”

“Yeah alright, wise guy.” Boyd roughly turns Armando around, “I’ll be back before night falls to have a chat with you.” He explains as he shortly looks at you before turning to Kristi, “Make sure she doesn’t leave your sight.”

Armando snickers, “good luck with that, my amiga walks through walls for fun.”

Only that was something you understood, a small smile appearing on the corner of your lips as Boyd and Kristi share a frown, before Boyd leads Armando away from your sight.

“Don’t worry, Armando is in good hands with the sheriff.”

You snort, “that actually exists in this make believe place?”

Kristi pulls up a chair beside you, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck, “unfortunately this place isn’t just in your head.”

A growl rips through your stomach just as she’s scooting forward to listen to your heartbeat and breathing, “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Immortals don’t really get to eat. We just taste.” You answer.

Kristi nods and pushes back, disappearing behind a curtain for a moment before returning with a piece of a fruit, “Well try this for a change.”

You take the apple from her and wipe it against your sweater with slight laughter. Holding the red fruit towards the light, you bring it to your lips and take a bite. The crunch is almost as satisfying as its taste and your eyes close while you chew. “Honey crisp?”

“I…actually don’t know.” Kristi says, “Food has just gotten better around here…But something tells me I should trust your instincts.”

You smile and breathe in as Kristi places the tool against your chest before moving to your back.

“Tell me something…I have a feeling that your boyfriend—

“Save your breath if you’re trying to hint at shooting your shot at him.” You dismiss.

It’s Kristi’s turn to laugh, “oh no…um…just trying to make conversation. And my fiancée actually works here with me. She’s doing inventory but you’ll probably see her later since I’ll be hiking sometime tomorrow.”

You nod, “Hiking? Armando and I aren’t really hiking people. We grew up in Mexico City where rural wasn’t what we were really used to but he wanted to go to the apple orchard today.”

Kristi hums, “doing some good ol’ apple picking huh? Never would have guessed.” She finished with a laugh.

“Guess we can be full of surprises.”

Kristi sits back in the chair, “you can say that again…there’s no heartbeat when I listen to your chest but there’s a sound when I listen to your back.”

“A sound?” You press.

“Like…a whirling sound?”

You tilt your head to the side, which makes Kristi stand and hand you the end of the tool to place into your ears, raising one arm so the wire can travel underneath your arm, she stretches the stethoscope to place at your back.

“Breathe in for me.”

You do.

“Then out and listen,” Kristi continues to instruct.

Following through again, you exhale all the way out awaiting the sound. The whirling sound, that sounds like wind in a snowstorm. A force against the quiet that has no thudding like a normal heart would and it’s so eerie that you know Kristi can’t explain it either.

Taking another bite from the honeycrisp, you continue to listen while you breathe as you normally would and it’s still there every time you exhale. The season you left behind was autumn in a humid climate, you originally passed in late spring, and now as you got into the town and from what you can see from the window, winter was approaching.

Perhaps your heart was the timer for this town?

“Well…” you say around chewing, “either we’re going to be clueless for a while or I’m going to be answer to saving everybody’s lives. Let the party begin, chica!”

Kristi takes the medical device back and plops back down in the chair, offering a small smile. She didn’t know you yet or the guy you came here with but part of Kristi felt like maybe things will start to become a little bit clearer.

So she saved her breath and hoped.

How much more hope can someone have in a place like this?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Back at the station, Boyd is pacing in front of the jail cell he’s holding Armando in.

Boyd summarized, “So you kill people for a living?”

“I did.” Armando’s monotone was off putting as he sat comfortably in the jail cell.

Boyd shakes his head and corrects, “you do. You stopped for a little bit because you had no other choice but then relapsed at the sake of your…your girlfriend? Wife? Fiancée?

“My family.” Armando rectifies while Boyd didn’t see the difference or really need the specifics.

“Are you some sort of serial killer?” Boyd quizzes, finding Armando demeanor to be too at ease.

“No. I’m many things but that.”

Boyd’s eyes are in slits as he spits out, “Are you unalive too because there’s no way you didn’t get injured while taking four people out?”

Armando raises his hand, “just more blood to scrub. The real person we should be worried about is her. I told you she was murdered in prison months ago and has been haunting me ever since. Now we get to some fucken fallen tree in the road and everybody but me can see her? That sound right to you, sheriff?”

Boyd laughs, “oh you’re gonna learn very quickly that nothing in this town is right.”

“She said she had visions of this place before in spurts.” Armando reveals with his elbows digging into his knees, “And how she never wanted to be here, how she feared that once I didn’t need to see her anymore this is exactly where she would end up. That some type of power was telling her this would be her eternity and I guess mine too if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“W-what does that mean? If you died? We’re not dead. She maybe but we’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s gotta be missing signs of us. People looking for us. We’ve all been gone too long for there not to be.” Boyd mumbled to himself but Armando feels as if he isn’t too sure.

If that is the case, then that means Mike is probably losing his shit right about now.

Armando inhales and sits back, “looks like we got a lot to learn about each then, right sheriff? And I think the first person you actually want to start with…is her.”

Boyd doesn’t doubt that since Armando didn’t hold anything back. He quickly learned that the man was in his late twenties, had heavy resentment for both of his parents, especially the one he just learned was actually his parent and was now stuck working with him to pay for his crimes, which he’s been trained to basically be a killer with the friend beside him, and had no issue turning back into that person but was it worth it?

“Why do I feel like you’re about to throw her under the bus? If she’s family then why stab her in the back?”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “It’s not stabbing when you do research and hold your cards close. I know what she is but I don’t know much about this place, only she does. Which is why I’m telling you, you need to let me out of this cage if you know what’s good for you.”

Boyd held Armando’s stare and it only took a few moments for him to believe a complete stranger, which is not something he usually did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

When they get back to the clinic, they’re greeted at the door by Kristi who waves them in with a finger to her lips. A frown appears on Boyd’s face as he stops by the door while Armando pushes his way by. He stops at the doorway where a blonde reaches for his shoulder to stop him.

From where they stand, he can see you sleeping on your side. Apple rind fallen from your fingertips, as a white as snow singular wing is arched up and out from your shoulder.

“That’s new and I don’t get out much.” The blonde whispers from Armando’s left.

He folds his arms and turns to meet Boyd and Kristi’s eyes with raised brows.

‘Told you so,’ is written all over his face as he moved to step into the room but the blonde, who touched him again tries to get him not to move any further.

He looks at her hand and then at her face.

She suggests, “I think we should give her some space. Until she’s alert and we see how she reacts, if it’s still out.”

“Marielle’s right, That’s not a bad idea.” Kristi observes.

Armando shrugs Marielle’s hand from him, “how long has she been like that? She normally doesn’t sleep…because she can’t.”

“Not long.” Kristi tells as she glanced at Boyd whose face held complete stress, “Maybe we should get Kenny down here or even Sara?”

Boyd immediately shakes his head, “No to Kenny. We don’t need to bother him right now, we can handle it.”

“You don’t know that, sheriff.” Armando disagrees with a humorless laugh.

“Well, thanks for your load of fucking confidence, Armando.”

“I’m just saying.” Armando leans against the doorway, eyeing you again while crossing one leg over the other, “we…mainly her might have just changed the entire game.”

Boyd clenched his fist and stalked out of the clinic to swing at the air and let out a string of curse words.

Armando rolls his head to look at the two women who peer at the direction where the sheriff walked off too. It was so quiet over here that everyone heard his frustrations.

“Is he always like that? And he’s a sheriff? You might need to check his blood pressure.” Armando mentions while Marielle shakes her head at him and Kristi rolls her eyes.

“You’re strangely calm about this, guy with the bloody hands. You should clean that up by the way.” Marielle says.

Armando unfolds his hands to look at the stains and moves into the main area in search of a sink. “Someone’s got to learn how to not lose their shit and I have a hunch that it’s not that many people around here.”

Kristi defends Boyd, “Okay Mr. Calm, we’ll see how long that lasts once you see what the night brings.”

Armando gives a wicked smile to the two women as he shakes out his damp hands, “I’ve seen plenty in my twenty-eight years and I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

And with that he moves, despite Marielle’s protest, to sit right beside you, almost keeping guard of you this time around.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013 

You were outside when the woman rode up. 

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you. 

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different. 

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home. 

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.  

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up. 

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon. 

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.” 

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense. 

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened. 

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.” 

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!” 

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two. 

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.  

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…” 

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.” 

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…” 

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’” 

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing. 

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off. 

“Should have listened….” 

You glared at her. 

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Glad you spared me.” 

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock. 

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…” 

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.” 

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…” 

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.” 

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.” 

“Dance party?” He frowned. 

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face. 

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall. 

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before. 

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did. 

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier. 

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission. 

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you. 

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow. 

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest. 

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.” 

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face. 

“You found people outside?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…” 

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. 

“The clinic…” 

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic. 

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside. 

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…” 

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…” 

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg. 

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?” 

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.” 

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.” 

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again. 

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…” 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you. 

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in. 

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…” 

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…” 

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see. 

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.” 

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…” 

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…” 

“Yes, I can.” 

You moved around him and he followed. 

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…” 

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it. 

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…” 

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…” 

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…” 

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…” 

“You…” he breathed. 

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.” 

*** 

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it. 

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…” 

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you. 

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.” 

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin. 

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…” 

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face. 

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…” 

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.” 

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you. 

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?” 

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…” 

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face. 

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…” 

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…” 

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath. 

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…” 

“I need you to take Savannah.” 

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…” 

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.” 

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…” 

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.” 

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes. 

“OK.” 

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20. 

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. 

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?” 

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat. 

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.” 

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child. 

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter. 

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.” 

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.” 

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand. 

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close. 

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world. 

August 2018 

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope. 

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…” 

“But they’re people.” 

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. 

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.” 

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing. 

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you. 

“Mama!” 

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you. 

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…” 

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?” 

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time. 

But the world, you knew, was not so kind. 

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library. 

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder. 

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK. 

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?” 

“What else would I need to shoot?” 

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book. 

“What?” 

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?” 

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.” 

“But I like animals,” she pouted. 

You smiled. 

“I know you do.” 

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you. 

You sighed. 

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.” 

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face. 

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe. 

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.” 

September 15, 2023 

“Mom?” 

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside. 

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?” 

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.  

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat. 

“Gattling, release.” 

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance. 

“We have to move.” 

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…” 

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.” 

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack. 

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.” 

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it. 

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment. 

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?” 

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…” 

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide. 

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…” 

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.” 

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.” 

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.” 

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody. 

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.” 

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her. 

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her. 

“Just three days, right Mom?” 

You swallowed, hard, before nodding. 

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules. 

You needed to buy her time. 

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape. 

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill. 

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised. 

You had to get back to her. 

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention. 

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you. 

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…” 

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. 

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?” 

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy. 

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

He laughed. 

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…” 

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground. 

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed. 

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.” 

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up. 

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…” 

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!” 

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other. 

“Show ‘er.” 

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair. 

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…” 

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.  

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…” 

Mitchum smiled. 

“Good.” 

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose. 

It was a year before there was room for anything else. 

Early April, 2027 

“Bambi…” 

“Move, Joel.” 

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her. 

First aid, that you’d need. 

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…” 

“I have to try.” 

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it. 

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…” 

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.” 

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…” 

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?” 

He froze, looking at you. 

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.” 

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…” 

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…” 

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart. 

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could. 

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…” 

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…” 

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…” 

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…” 

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…” 

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!” 

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls. 

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin. 

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…” 

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see. 

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you. 

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!” 

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain. 

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…” 

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…” 

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…” 

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…” 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…” 

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook. 

“Bambi…” 

“Get out,” you managed. 

He said your name. Your real name. 

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!” 

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…” 

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….” 

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!” 

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.” 

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.” 

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again. 

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

[adoresmiles]

His Concealed Obsession.

Chapter Four

Not me with another update! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and don’t forget to leave feedback. You guys are keeping me going through my depression right now. Love all 🫶🏽

Tags: @violetmuses @onlyrealjoy @unicorndelulu @liatreads @sunrisesfromthewest @deja-r @idontknowwhak @jacobscipioswoman @armandoaretasfc @aaronhotchnerlover @simpledopeme @slashervalley @nobodygetsza @nelo0wesker @peaxhygirl

Kanani

“This is a really nice place that you have here Nani.”

“I could have sworn you been here. Didn’t you help and uncle mucus help me move in?”

“Your uncle Marcus did , Mike was out doing something with Rita that day.”

“Oh yeah I remember now , trying to figure out who shot you . Did you ever find out who and why they did it ?”

Kanani asked him as she rest her body against her kitchen counter. Mike begin coughing as her father just laughed. She was confused on what was funny , she knew the situation was touchy since KP and their dad had tagged along with Marcus , Mike and AMMO . When they got back , nobody had mentioned anything about the mission so Kanani never brought it up until now. She was genuinely concerned about the outcome.

“I didn’t know a simple question could trigger someone to choke on their own spit.”

“It just caught me off guard that’s all. But yes I did end up catching the person who attempted to kill me.”

“Twice, your son tried to kill you twice Mike.”

“Your son tried to kill you?! Wow he didn’t even succeed at that. What did you do to him ?”

“Since when you become an investigator?”

“My mom is a dispatcher it’s in my blood. Anyways whatever you did to your son, you deserved it.”

“Damn baby girl that’s cold. Mike had a job to do just you and I both , you can’t let your personal feelings get in the way of that.”

“You’re right and I agree with you , but his son almost took him out twice, not once but twice and he damn near got lucky with them too.”

“Well Nani I ended up putting his mother in prison.”

“Oh that’s low , I would want to kill you too!”

“Really Nani?”

“Yup! Dad if you were to put my mother and Jax mother in prison , I’m killing you. There’s no way in hell you’re going to put my mom behind bars. You could have placed her on probation or something but you put his mom behind bars. Yeah I wouldn’t even think twice about putting you in a body bag.”

“Good to know that we will need to place on the watch list.Mike please remind me to place my child on the watch list.”

“I’m just saying , if you ever think about putting my mother and Jax mom behind bars I am going to kill you. I won’t even hesitate to kill you either uncle Mike. So snitch if you want to.”

“I don’t got anything to do with this. This is between you and your bald headed father.”

“If you didn’t put your son mother behind bars we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. In fact if you guys didn’t just randomly showed up , the conversation wouldn’t have even taken place. But with me being smart as hell , you guys want to ask me questions about yesterday shooting . So stop beating around the bush and start the interrogation process.”

“So in your own words what happened yesterday?”

"Umm I don't know , we were out shopping and then I went outside to call back KP and next thing you know I'm tackled down to the ground by some random man in Miami while bullets were flying."

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Yup , that is all."

"Kanani Souline , this is a serious matter. You almost lost your damn life out there girl."

"Your best friend told us that there was a guy following you guys yesterday.”

“Now that is true , some guy was at the store and when we went to check out he was no longer there.”

“How did he look?”

“Somewhat tall , my complexion of not a little bit darker, really gorgeous colored eyes and a low mini Afro. Oh he had zero tattoos too as well.”

“That’s exactly what the other two females said too. Don’t say anything but this is the same guy your mom took a 911 call from a couple of years back.”

“About the young girl?”

“Yup that exact one. We’re going go ahead and arrest him tonight. KP saw him this morning doing the same thing but at the beach. He didn’t try anything with you and friend right ?”

“He just kept staring at us , didn’t get close to us.”

“Good. Listen Kanani , I really need you to be on your toes okay? Your neighbor just got cold blooded murdered , you were being followed and almost died yesterday. Your mother and I are not trying to burry you under the ground yet.”

“He has a good point Kanani. I can’t be sitting at a funeral with Marcus crying on my shoulder like he did at your graduation.”

“Yeah I heard him from the stage , uncle Marcus have to get his emotions in check.”

“Trust me , we all do and that’s part of the reason why we left him back the house. He doesn’t know that you almost got shot yesterday, but he does know about your neighbor.”

“Yesterday events will have him snotty nose crying in the middle of my living room.”

“We don’t need- I just know these kids aren’t knocking on my door again. I’ll be back, you guys can grab you some snacks.”

The two men watched as Kanani jogged out of the kitchen to answer the door. As she was chatting to the unknown person at the door , they both looked over at with raised eyebrows before Daniel walked over to the table and search through the flowers. Unbeknownst to them Kanani was as standing behind the wall as she listen their conversation.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you man.”

“I’m just being curious on who sent my daughter flowers. They sent her favorite flowers at that as well.”

“Maybe she bought them herself, you know my niece is big on self love. You and storm made sure she loved herself more than anyone else.”

“You right she could have did that but she didn’t . I know she didn’t because they are still in the delivery vase. Kanani has her own vases that she uses when she gets flowers. Trust me I know my child Mike.”

“Well did you see the necklace around her neck?”

“Of course I did but I didn’t want to say anything to make it obvious.”

“You sure she doesn’t have a boyfriend ?”

“If she did , she would have told the boys about it by now. Hell even Storm would have known before m-"

“Aww now look at what I walked into . My own dad looking through my stuff while his best friend sits and watch.”

“I told him not to do it.”

“Why are you looking through my things?”

“I wasn’t looking through your things. I was looking for the key that I left over here last week.”

“You wasn’t even home last week dad. Mom and you were on your way to Greece for your wedding anniversary.”

“Damn she got you right there.”

“I was just being curious on who bought you these flowers . They’re freshly picked and you never leave them in the vases.”

“Well all you had to do was just dad I would have told you. But no you wanted to be sneaky and go snooping around.”

“I’m not trying to get my head chewed the hell off by you today. So I’m just going to ask you this question, where did you get that necklace from?”

“Okay just like this gift bag , this necklace was a gift.”

“A gift from who? Because it looks madly familiar.”

“Familiar how?”

“My son has the exact same necklace Kanani. The same letter , chain length and everything. Are you sure that the motorcyclist wasn’t my son.”

“How would I know? I don’t even know how your looks. Let alone I never even met your son Mike.”

“Kanani there’s no need for you to get defensive.”

“You shouldn’t be talking right now. Especially when you were snooping around in my house. Do you two not trust me or something?”

“When you put it in that way , to an extent there’s a lack of trust. Your neighbor got murdered, you got followed and then you got shot at. You’re getting flowers and gifts from an unknown person that nobody knows about. Hell for all I know you could be wearing Mike son chain!”

“I’m a grown ass women! I don’t have to tell you about my personal life. I’m not like Jaxon who tells you every little detail of his life. You did this to KP and I refuse to be your next victim.”

“I think that’s enough Nani , you don’t want to say anything that you could regret.”

“No because he doesn’t see that whenever he does shit like this it leaves in impact on us. KP recently got his locks changed because he caught you snooping around in his own house twice . You questioned him on his love life . Hell you just did that today and you turn around say that you don’t trust me.”

“My relationship with you and KP are completely different and more complicated than Jax and I relationship.”

“You and Jax are close because he tells you every single detail that does on in his life. You two have no boundaries. KP and I have boundaries, there’s things we want you to know and things that we feel like you shouldn’t know.”

“If I’m dating someone and if he’s getting me something then that’s my business. Nobody but mine and you should respect. You don’t see mom come over , snooping around and asking me questions about my personal life and my whereabouts. She trust me and respect my boundaries.”

“That’s your mother not m-"

“Your perception of me is only a reflection of you. You and uncle Mike can escort yourselves out.”

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 2

A/N: I apologize in advance for what I have done. I didn’t originally plan for this to turn into a love triangle, but here we are 🫡 this is gonna end up ruining me I just know it.

Summary: after a grueling day working Fedra jobs, you come home to Joel and Tess’s apartment and eavesdrop on him and Tess arguing, over you.

~Word count : 2.18k~

Warnings: dark!joel, mean!joel mild violence (Tess punches him in the face) mature themes. Love triangle brewing. Tess!hates you (+18)

Songs for this chapter:

“I Lied” by Lord Huron

“A Dangerous Thing” by AURORA

_________

August 2020: Boston QZ

Summers in the Boston QZ were unforgivable. It was your third summer here thus far, and you still weren’t used to the suffocating humidity. The rain this time of year felt never-ending and with rain came hordes of mosquitoes. Working outside in these conditions was becoming a real pain in your ass. You never got used to the stench of rotting flesh. Even with your bandana covering your face, the smell would still seep in. You much preferred smuggling as your main source of income despite the risk of it. Joel refused to let you go on any runs alone. You believed it was because he had a lack of trust in you and he didn’t feel that you were capable on your own. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Joel knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Selfishly, however, he refused to let you go in alone because he didn’t want to think of the possibilities of you getting hurt.

So, he kept you on a tight leash, or so he thought.

_________

This particular day was grueling. Your jeans had practically melded into your skin from the high humidity and the fact it had been pouring all damn day. Fuck August. Before heading back to Joel and Tess’s apartment, you met up with another smuggler. Trading a couple ration cards for a pack of cigarettes was truly the highlight of your day, as long as Joel didn’t find out. Jingling your keys between your fingers you headed up the creaky steps of the shared apartment. Upon entering, you spot Joel knocked out on the couch and Tess didn’t appear to be home yet. For a moment he looked at peace. The usual frown between his brows was no longer present. He slept with his arms crossed against his chest and his legs kicked over the side of the old couch. Your steps were quiet as you didn’t want to disturb him in his slumber. You unlaced your boots with ease, setting them down beside the door before hanging up your soaking jacket. All you could think about at that moment was getting out of your clothes and taking an ice cold shower. Nothing else mattered to you. It was the one thing you had to look forward to. Quietly padding down the hall and to your room, you lightly shut the door behind you. Your room wasn’t much, but it was more than you could ever ask for. The mattress was worn and on its last life, but you had a pillow and decent blanket at least. Sometimes you would think about your old room back in chicago. Your inviting bed, a wall of books and all the things that held importance to you. Pushing the past to the depths of your mind, you stripped out of your clothing before heading into the bathroom, turning the handle to ice fucking cold before you stepped under the stream, closing your eyes as the water beat down your back.

Tess had seen your deal go down with the other smuggler. These days she was watching you quite closely. You knew Tess wasn’t the biggest fan of yours, but you didn’t realize the lengths she would go to get rid of you. Catching you trading with another smuggler was all the ammo she needed to get Joel to think twice about your loyalty. He had set ground rules for you for this exact reason and now you had broken one.

Joel awoke to the sound of keys jingling outside the apartment door. He slowly sat up, looking around for a moment, before he glanced down at his watch to check the time. He was painfully reminded it no longer worked, and it never would again. He swung his legs over the side of the couch, muttering about his bad back as he slowly rose from the couch while Tess opened the door and stepped inside quietly, latching the lock behind her.

“ ‘Time is it, Tess?”

She looked over at her partner then as she unlaced her boots, pulling them off and set them alongside yours. “10 to curfew. How long have you been sleeping?”

He hummed in response then. Walking past her to grab his usual whiskey glass and his half bottle of hooch. He popped the top of the bottle off and splashed a bit into the glass, swirling the liquid around the cracked crystal before he took a sip.

“No clue. Don’t even remember ‘fallin asleep. Back’s killin me.”

He took another sip then, leaning back against the dusty kitchen table with a content sigh as the liquid burned down his throat. Tasted like shit, but it got the job done.

“Did Gwen make it home? Didn’t hear her come in.”

Tess felt a distaste in her mouth as soon as he said your name. Her jealousy had been brewing deep in her gut for months. She didn’t like the fact that Joel gave a shit about you. More so, she didn’t like the fact that he allowed you to stay here. She hated it.

“Saw her heading this way about 20 minutes ago or so. After she made a deal with another smuggler. Richard, I think is his name. Traded a couple ration cards for a pack of smokes.”

Joel slowly raised a brow then, slightly tightening his grip around the glass. He had told you specifically to not make any deals without him, or Tess around.

“You were ‘spyin on her then?”

“Happened to be in the right place at the right time I guess.” She spoke carefully.

He nodded then, feeling displeased with you, but more so with his partner.

“Cut the shit Tess, you were spyin on her.” He took another sip then before setting the glass down on the table and crossed his broad arms across his chest. “She knows better than to make deals without us around. She’s no idiot. ‘Specially after her time in Fedra lock up.”

Tess chewed on the inside of her cheek then, pissed at the fact that Joel didn’t believe her. That he didn’t believe that you had broken his rule.

“Yeah, well..Saw the whole thing go down Joel. Why the fuck would I lie about that huh? She’s more sneaky than you think, and it’s only a matter of time before she rats us out for her own benefit. Like you said, she’s no idiot.”

Joel laughed then, it was a bitter one.

“You’re fuckin crazy Tess, y’know that? Why the hell would she ever think of rattin us out? How in the hell would that benefit her? She’s been here what, 3 years now? If she wanted to betray us, she would have done it a long fuckin time ago.”

Tess rolled her eyes slightly then, pushing a forced laugh past her lips. “Don’t you fuckin dare call me crazy Joel. Don’t you fuckin dare. You’ve known me for a fuckin decade, and all of a sudden she comes into the picture, and you don’t trust me anymore?”

“You are actin fuckin crazy.” Ever since Gwen has been in the picture you’ve been actin strange.” “What the fuck is that all about Tess, huh? You’re actin like a jealous little girl. Is that what you fuckin are? A jealous, weak, little girl? Get a fuckin grip.” He spat out.

“Oh so i’m jealous now? Man, that’s fuckin rich comin from you Joel.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He was getting more annoyed by the second. His relationship with Tess was never established, there was no need for it and that's the way he liked it. She never had a problem with it till now. In his eyes, his partner had grown weak, and it disappointed him.

“It’s rich comin from you because all you fuckin care about is Gwen. Gwen this Gwen that. You fuckin lose your goddamn shit if a guy looks at her Joel!” There it was. The impending confession that Tess was jealous of you and Joel thought it was fucking ridiculous.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, slowly shaking his head and took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly as he spoke. “So, you are fuckin jealous then. Just ‘goin ahead and provin my point.”

“Your jealous over fuckin nothing. Wastin your fuckin feelings when there far more important matters to be dealt with.” He continued. “If you weren’t so fuckin concerned with Gwen’s wareabouts, you’d notice that were fuckin runnin low on rations as it is. Gwen and I are fuckin workin our fuckin asses off and what have you brought in lately?! You haven’t brought back shit these last couple runs. You’ve grown weak Tess.”

Tess was fuming now but stood her ground. “Fedra has been up everyone's asses for the past month Joel. So what? You want me to go out there, risk the possibility of getting thrown in lock up, while you play boyfriend and girlfriend with her?!”

Joel threw his head back and laughed, he was starting to see red from how angry he was getting. He grabbed the glass downing the rest of the contents, and slammed it down on the table. You could hear it from the bathroom, now listening in to their argument even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Do you fuckin hear yourself right now Tess?! Get a fuckin grip or so help me god. You’re creating scenarios in your head that aren’t real and y’know what? I ain’t got time for this shit. I gotta figure out how the hell we’re gonna make it by for the next month. I’ll be the fuckin adult here and you can continue to be the little girl that you truly fuckin are. ‘Decade of knowin each other and this is what finally breaks you?! Your feelings are gonna get you killed. Pathetic fuckin way to go.”

You heard the deafening sound of Tess’s fist making contact with Joel’s face. You swore you heard a crack, followed by the sound of the chair scraping against the floor as he stumbled back slightly, not expecting his partner to resort to getting physical with him.

Tess’s eyes widened after the realization of what she had done dawned upon her. Her hand ached slightly and her fingers trembled as the adrenaline coursed through her. Her feet moved quickly as she went to send her fists into his chest, but Joel was quick and immediately snatched her wrists, applying pressure as he backed her into the kitchen wall. His eyes were narrowed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and blood was leaking down his nose and to his lips. “What are you gonna do now baby, huh? Fuckin laid your fists on me and now what? Gonna apologize? Gonna beg for my forgiveness?” He spat. Spraying her face with the blood that leaked from his nose.

“Joel–I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what came over me–” She stammered out, trembling beneath his grip and harsh gaze.

Joel squeezed her wrists tightly then before releasing his grip on her.

“Save it.”

“You’re obviously too fuckin long gone now Tess. All that fuckin matters is our survival and you have clearly lost sight of that. Out of all the fuckin people I never thought you would end up being so weak. This? Us? It’s done.” He deadpanned.

“Now get the fuck out of my face. I don’t care where the fuck you go tonight, but get the fuck out. Don’t bother comin back till you’ve come to your senses and gained some fuckin control over yourself.”

Tess swallowed hard then, rubbing her sore wrists before she squeezed herself past him. Feeling like her heart was caving in and she bit back her tears, grabbing her coat. “Fine. If that’s what you really fuckin want.”

“It is. You made your fuckin bed Tess. Have fun layin in it.”

“Fine.” She accepted her defeat. “All I ask is that you fuckin start questioning her. Don’t be so fuckin stupid, just cause I know you have the hots for her. Are you forgetting she didn’t hesitate to kill you not that long ago? If anyone here is weak, It’s you Joel. Fuckin thinking with your cock constantly is going to get you killed.”

Joel scoffed then, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his nose. “Wild fuckin accusation to be makin. I don’t have time for desires like that. Don’t even think of her in that way.” He lied through his teeth.

“Regardless, I'll be questioning her. Don’t worry, if your claims are true and she broke my rule, you’ll know. Good luck survivin the night. ‘M sure you won’t have trouble ‘findin another warm body to lay with. Coulda been me but too late for that now, what a shame.”

He pulled the door open then, gesturing to the barren hall with his hand and when she hesitated, he gave her a quick push on her lower back; slamming the door shut behind her, locking it for good measure. Now, to deal with you.

CHAPTER 3 :

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 3 Of Ferals and Centaurs

(Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul)

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, eventual smut

In this chapter...

“In fact, while we’re on the subject…” The Ghoul said as he shifted his feet a little. “And since we gonna be spendin’ some time together, I figure I ought to tell you this now too...” He took a somber breath. “If it ever so happens that I run outta vials and collapse like that again... and I lose consciousness... you gotta shoot me before I wake up. You got that?”

Lucy blinked, then looked up at him again. “Why?” She furrowed her brow and frowned. Even though she didn’t like him very much, she also didn’t like the idea of having to kill him either. Not unless she absolutely had to, and was sure of it. "...When you wake up… would you be feral?”

He just looked at her and pressed his lips together. 

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,400

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

Inside the vault, there wasn’t really much of note. Even though there was still power, it was quite dark. Many of the light bulbs had either been broken or gone out over time. The place was ransacked. There were dead bodies strewn about. Some were wearing vault suits, others looked like raiders. Whatever happened here, Lucy didn’t really care. Normally, she would have wanted to know. But after everything that’d happened, her mind was in other places.

Between The Ghoul and Dogmeat, she didn’t have to do much. Dogmeat took care of the roaches, and she was rather shocked by how quickly her ghoul companion swept through each room. Like he knew exactly where to look, exactly what to look for. Although she realized she shouldn’t be surprised, she still found it impressive. And he even gave her some tips and tricks along the way.

“Check that box there.” He pointed out to her a yellow ammo container. 

Lucy went over and tried to open it. “It’s locked.”

“Mmm…” He rummaged in his pack a moment, then handed her a bobby pin.

She looked at it questioningly. “Umm… what’s this for?”

“To pick the lock.”

The former vault dweller blinked. “I’ve never picked a lock before.”

“Well… it’s a good time to learn.” He said. “Go on now. Give it a try.”

She blinked again, then took the pin, kneeled down in front of the box, and stuck it in the hole. 

After feeling around a moment she said, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out.” The Ghoul said, then leaned against the wall casually and tilted his head as he watched her.

“Ugh… okay…” She said, frustrated but determined. As she kept at it, she had to say something to fill the dead air. Apparently, The Ghoul had gotten tired of talking, because now he was just standing there watching silently. 

“So… about your name.”

“Ahh…” 

“What if I take a guess?”

“Drop it, Vaulty.”

“Is it… John?” 

“No.”

“What about Nick?” 

“Even if you guess it, I’m not gonna tell ya.”

“Okay. What if I give you a name?”

“Sweetheart, I ain’t your fuckin’ dog.” 

“So I take it you’d be opposed to being called Rover?” She joked.

“Ugh…” The Ghoul rolled his eyes. “You want me to open that?”

“No. I’ll get it… I think I’m… getting the hang of this.” She said, furrowing her brow in concentration. 

“Ehhh…” The Ghoul exhaled. “So, Vaulty... How did you take out that Super Duper Mart anyway?” 

“Well, uh…” Lucy smiled sheepishly as she twisted and turned the bobby pin. “Actually, it was… kind of an accident.” Then her expression got sullen. “I… I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt…” 

“You’re the one that got ‘em to release all them ghouls, huh?”

She glanced over at him and he started to laugh.

“Well, ain’t you a good samaritan.”

“They were being held captive! I couldn’t just leave them there…” She huffed and looked over at him. “I mean, I got you those vials, didn’t I? Are you gonna make fun of me for that too?” 

“Well… I just hope you learned something from that experience.” He said, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows. “You don't mess around with feral ghouls.”

“Yeah…” She said as she put her arms down a moment to give them a break. “I got that...” 

“In fact, while we’re on the subject…” The Ghoul said as he shifted his feet a little. “And since we gonna be spendin’ some time together, I figure I ought to tell you this now too...” He took a somber breath. “If it ever so happens that I run outta vials and collapse like that again... and I lose consciousness... you gotta shoot me before I wake up. You got that?”

Lucy blinked, then looked up at him again. “Why?” She furrowed her brow and frowned. Even though she didn’t like him very much, she also didn’t like the idea of having to kill him either. Not unless she absolutely had to, and was sure of it. "...When you wake up… would you be feral?”

He just looked at her and pressed his lips together. 

“But the other ones, they… they didn’t lose consciousness. They were… very awake when they…”

“Well, everyone’s different, sweetheart…” The Ghoul said. “Not everyone turns in the same way. And truth be told, I’ve never gotten that far. To where I lost consciousness, I mean. So I donno what would happen when I woke up. But that’s not a risk you wanna take, darlin’.” His tone was very serious and strangely soft. He was starting to sound like a mentor. Like the tone she would take with her students back home. “So if that happens, you either better shoot me or run as fuckin’ far away as you can, as fast as you can. Because if I do go feral, I will kill you.” 

Lucy blinked again, looked away in thought, then back. “Well… isn’t that a good reason for me to know your name...? Those other ghouls, they were… saying their names over and over again. Don’t you think it’d be good for me to know it? In case you do start going feral? So I can help, you know… remind you…”

He shook his head and scoffed. “That don’t help nobody… It’s all just sentimental bullshit... Nice try though.”

Lucy thought for a moment about her mother. She swallowed hard, then went back to the lock. “So… is it... Nate?”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t stop askin' me I swear I’m gonna…”

Suddenly, there was a click and the box popped open. “Ha!” She exclaimed in triumph. 

“Huh…” The Ghoul said, almost sounding surprised, before he strolled over to her. 

Lucy opened up the lid and looked inside, where there were several boxes of ammo, a couple stimpacks, and some rad-away. 

The bounty hunter leaned over her as she pulled out their prizes. “Well… nice job, Vaulty.”

After some time, The Ghoul decided they'd done enough scavenging. The vault was huge - as all vaults were - and they didn’t end up getting through the whole thing. But he seemed happy with what they found. Which, aside from what was in the locked box, included food, cigarettes, a bottle of whiskey, and a few other medicinals. As they headed back to the entrance, Lucy eyed something they’d passed before. It was a Mr. Handy. Broken, but it still had its fusion core. Which meant there’s a chance it could still be operational.

“Hey, Asshole.” Lucy called out ahead to him.

The Ghoul looked over his shoulder, then flashed her a smirk before he turned and started walking towards her. “You say my name?”

She smirked back. “Sure did… Come look at this.”

The old bounty hunter immediately frowned when he realized what she was pointing at. “The robot?”

“Do you think we could use it?”

“What the hell for?” 

“Well, I donno. Might come in handy .” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, then looked up at The Ghoul to see if he got the joke.

Slowly, he turned to look at her with nothing but a blank stare. 

“Ha…” Lucy let out a brief laugh, then bit her lip and looked away awkwardly. 

The old bounty hunter kept his eyes on her a moment, then blinked and slowly shifted them back over to the robot, shaking his head a little. “Well, I hate to tell you this, Ms. Handy MacLean. But Bartholomew here appears to be kinda fuckin’ broken.” 

“That is true. But. I’m pretty sure I can fix him.”

“Well, if you want a little robot friend, you go right on ahead. I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He turned and started back down the hallway again. 

She shrugged and was about to follow when Dogmeat started to growl at something in the darkness behind them. An unsettling sound emitted from down the hallway. A low, gurgling, but almost human sounding groan. And it sounded like it was coming from something that was much… much bigger.

Lucy froze in fear, then watched as The Ghoul turned around and his eyes got wide. 

“Lucy! Get down!” He shouted and she dove for the floor as something lashed out above her, just missing her. Dogmeat barked frantically as The Ghoul pulled out his gun and started firing. She heard the gush of spilling blood and torn flesh and the creature screamed out in pain. 

In a panic, Lucy started crawling towards the Ghoul. After getting a few feet away, she flipped onto her back, grabbed her gun and started firing as well. After getting in a few shots, her eyes got wide with horror as she absorbed what she was looking at.

It looked like a giant humanoid mutant. But instead of having arms attached to its shoulders, it crawled on six below the waist, attached to a lower body that looked like the thorax of an insect, but made of human flesh. There were bones stick out from its shoulders where the arms should be, and around its stomach. It was grotesque, covered in tumors and pustules. And it had three long tentacles protruding from its mouth. Just the look of it made every hair on her body stand up on end.

Lucy began to scream as she continued to fire. Then, suddenly, one of the tentacles lashed out, wrapped itself around her angle and started dragging her across the floor.

“Shit!” The Ghoul exclaimed and ran towards her, dropping his pack on the ground. Dogmeat barked and gnawed at one of the monster's six arm-legs, but it didn’t seem to phase it. 

The former vault dweller kept firing until she ran out of bullets, and so did The Ghoul. But the thing was so huge it was almost just absorbing their fire. The bounty hunter grabbed his knife and jumped between Lucy and the beast, sawing and hacking at the tentacle that had a hold of her. Once he had her freed, the creature screamed out in pain, then threw its other two tentacles around The Ghoul’s face, knocking off his hat and pulling him in.

“Arrgh–!!! Mmmph!” His shout was muffled as he struggled against the mutant.

“Asshole!!” Lucy called out the only name she had for him. 

The horrifying monster was strong and pulled the bounty hunter towards it with ease, engulfing his head in its slimy, wiggling grip. Dogmeat barked and growled fiercely, tearing and gnashing at the beast flesh. Lucy fumbled to get more ammo in her gun, fearing this would be the end for her companion if she didn’t free him as soon as possible. 

With a growl, The Ghoul took the knife and started stabbing the beast in the face, over and over. Again, the creature howled in pain, but didn’t relent. Dogmeat cried out as one of the six legs got in a forceful kick, throwing her back against a wall. 

But then Lucy remembered something... 

She had a grenade.

Quickly, she reached in her pack and pulled out the explosive. Then jumped up and, after considering her options for a moment, ran around to the back end of the creature. She hesitated just briefly, then shoved that grenade right up its ass. 

Trying to ignore the shit and slime now covering her arm, she bolted back towards the front and took cover.

A moment later, the thorax of the beast exploded into a horrifying slush of red, green, brown and yellowish mush and chunky body parts. The front end let out one last gurgling death groan before finally dropping her ghoul companion and slumping to the floor.

“Gahhh…” The Ghoul growled as he picked himself up and started wiping the mucus off his face. “Motherfucker...” He cursed and spat. “Fucking centaurs.”

“What the hell was that thing!?” Lucy blurted out, still shaking as she stood up from where she had been crouching. 

“Goddamn mutant.” He said simply. “Just like them gulpers. Only uglier.”

Lucy stepped up next to him, looking down at the freakish monster in horror, but also relief.

The Ghoul searched around for his hat, then quickly retrieved it and put it back on. 

In a bit of a daze, the former vault dweller looked up at him. “You... saved my life.”

"Yeah. And you blew up its ass and saved mine.” He glanced back at her as he spoke, almost sounding appreciative, then sneered in disgust as he tried to wipe off the muck and slop that had splattered all over him. “You alright?” 

She nodded, still shaking.

He looked past her and spotted Dogmeat, then quickly stepped over to the canine and kneeled down. “Damn… son of a bitch got you too, huh?” 

Dogmeat whined as she limped closer to him, holding one of her back legs up. The Ghoul scratched her cheeks and behind her ears. “It’s alright… you’ll be alright…” 

Lucy blinked as she watched him, surprised that he seemed so concerned about the dog. 

“Hey… what time does that pip-boy a yers say it is?”

Lucy looked down to check. “It’s… almost seven.”

He stood up and exhaled, then nodded. “Might be best if we stay here tonight.”

“What? Here?? ” The former vault dweller said in disbelief. “After that? What if there’s more of those... things!?"

“Eh… if there were more, they’da already come runnin’.” 

“How can you be so sure?”

He looked over at her and tilted his head, appearing a little annoyed. “I’ve been out here a long time, sweetheart. Trust me." He reminded her, then retrieved his gun from the floor and put it back in it's holster. "But if it'll make ya feel betta... I'll do a clean sweep after we find a safe spot fer you two...” 

She blinked, then looked away, letting out a little huff. “...Okay… Fair enough.” 

“It’s always safer to stay the night indoors, if you can…" He said as he grabbed his pack off the ground and slung it over his shoulder. "Besides, Dogmeat’s gotta rest her leg.” 

“Can’t we just give her a stimpack?” 

“That’s anotha lesson you gotta learn, darlin'... Don’t waste yo stimpacks on minor injuries that can heal on they own... Ya never know when you might have a real emergency.” He turned towards the pup and she whined as he slung her over his shoulder as well. “Come on. We’ll hold up in one a them units. There’s bound to be one that ain't got somethin’ dead in it.”

To be continued…

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[cannibal-wings]

I was unsure what to share for this WIP Wed so I guess I'll just post the whole Ada and Leon interaction haha. It's a couple pages though, so hopefully that's enough. I figured stealth combat probably wasn't that interesting to share atm. Again, this is from You Pay the Cost. I've been... not dreading, but nervous to write Ada just because I'm never sure if I'm quite getting her right. I'll probably edit this section some more too. I don't think I did terribly though.

He pushed the next door open and carefully stepped inside. There hadn’t been any sound from beyond the door, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an ambush waiting for him. He had his SG drawn, he checked his ammo count, he was still good. He kept it up as he did a quick sweep of the room. It was small, cozy even, with a lit fireplace, some chairs, and what looked like a printing press in the corner. Leon gave the machine quick look; it was interesting but ultimately not what he was here for. A bookcase lined the opposite wall. It looked to him, like a study or something similar. The room looked well maintained, which struck him as odd, since most of the places in the castle seemed run down, and he wouldn’t have expected a printing press or study to be one thing that hadn’t been left to rot. Maybe it was someone in the castles last refuge?

Leon dropped his guard and thought about using this room to rest for a moment. His lower back was killing him and he unfortunately knew what that meant. It was the same pulsing ache that heralded the arrival of a new mutation. And there was only one left. He sighed and tried not to think about it. He looked to the door on the other side then back at the one he came from. He could barricade himself in while he mutated, though he had no idea how long it would actually take. The time between the first onset of body aches to the actual transformation hadn’t ever been consistent. Ashley needed him, but he would rather not go down in the middle of a group of cultists.

He decided he’d wait it out in this room. He stepped forward, his intent was to drag a chest over and block the exit door, but was stopped when a voice sounded off behind him. “Stop right there, Leon.”

Leon froze and put two of his hands up. The secondary arms he kept close to his chest. He frowned. Even after six years he still knew that voice. But what was it doing here? He could hear her footsteps behind him, heels, ever impractical, some things never change. He could feel something press against his back, a gun no doubt. His carapace didn’t allow him to feel anything other than the pressure. She spoke again, “You wouldn’t make me use this? Would you?” He tilted his head slightly, he thought he heard her voice shake, just a bit.

Leon tossed his gun down; he wasn’t sure how twitchy she was going to be with her trigger finger. While he knew Ada had comparable training to himself, he also knew that his situation could cause rash reactions. He hoped that since his voice sounded relatively normal, he could deescalate a bit. “Well, after six years this is one hell of a greeting, Ada.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” she said. “Interesting.”

Leon shifted one of his legs ever so slightly. “You know? After what’s happened tonight? Not much could surprise me.” The gun was still pressed firmly to his back. For a moment, he considered making a move so she’d shoot, at least then he wouldn’t have to face her as he was now. He took a deep breath, but that would just be running away, and he didn’t run away anymore. He moved his head just a bit, to try to turn and look at her. “Listen-” he started but was cut off by a sudden shot. It didn’t penetrate, but it still kicked him forward. He finished the turn and knocked the gun up so the next shot missed his head. For a moment Ada seemed surprised at her own actions, but she recovered quickly.

Leon had always been stronger than her, and now he was even more so. She abandoned the idea of shooting him, at least not while he still had her arm in his hand. She turned her body with the intent of placing a kick squarely in his chest to knock him back. But as she lifted her leg, she realized that also wasn’t going to work. But it was too late to stop the motion, she put all her weight into it and barely moved him. He was large, solid, and if he hadn’t spoken to her just now, she wouldn’t have thought him human. This wasn’t a fight she wanted to risk. Leon knocked her leg aside and took a step towards her.  

He seemed to be holding back, unsure of how hard to push her. She used that to her advantage and yanked her arm free of his grasp. She ducked under him and tried to place the gun against his chest, but he quickly pivoted his body away and reached for something. Within seconds he finished his pivot and had a knife to her throat. She looked from the blade, then up to his face. The first real look she had gotten of it. It was still him, still Leon, but only barely. He still had hair, and his eyes were mostly left alone. But there wasn’t any ignoring the huge outer jaws that sat slightly parted on his face. “Oh Leon,” she said softly. She ignored the blade against her throat, if he wanted to kill her he would have already, in a variety of ways. With her unarmed hand she reached for his face. “What did they do to you?”

For a moment it looked like he wanted to lean into that touch, but then his eyes widened and he recoiled violently, and clamped his jaws tightly against his face. “Don’t,” he said and backed away.

The tension had completely diminished and Ada knew that she wasn’t going to shoot either. She holstered her blacktail and said, “Someone trained you well. Your movements were smooth.” He moved for his gun on the ground and she let him. He scooped it up and holstered it. “Not the same rookie cop from all those years ago.”

Leon sighed. “Why are you here?” He was tired, and he didn’t need another party making his life worse tonight. “Who are you working for this time?”

She grinned. “You know I don’t work and tell.”

“Yeah,” Leon shook his head. “Don’t know why I bothered to ask. It’s not like you’re one for telling the truth anyways.”

“It’s not personal, just my job.” She moved away and leaned against the stone wall. “You’re out here chasing the President’s Daughter are you not?” Leon looked up and nodded. She caught the way his mandibles twitched. “I was going to tell you to leave the girl, but you’re just as lost as she is.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you know I can’t do that.”

“Right.” She watched him move, he was still acting mostly human, he still used weapons like a man, his posture was humanlike. He was still Leon, but then she looked closer, and saw all the dried blood on his arms, his claws, around his mandibles. “How long do you have?”

He didn’t even bother asking how she knew he was on a timer. “Dawn, apparently.”

“Then you better get a move on.” She needed to leave too. There was still one more ingredient for her to search out and she didn’t have the luxury of stalling. When she looked at Leon, what Luis told her began to sink in. What he was now, was what she would become. And what he was, was the same thing that had been stalking her relentlessly. “But,” she added to get his attention. “You still have some time.”

“You talk like you know more than you let on.”

“I do.”

“Of course.”

Leon had now taken up against the bookcase. One pair of arms folded across his chest. Then she noticed a second pair of arms, also crossed. Those had wicked blades on the end. She didn’t even see them during their scuffle. “I think I’ve encountered what you’re turning into.” He cocked his head and his mandibles flared out just a bit before they settled against his face. “Not sure if they have a name, but certain features of yours match up. Face is all wrong though.”

“How so?”

“Well the thing I saw, it was more insect like. Your face is pretty human looking, and your outer jaws aren’t the same either.”

Leon nodded. “Luis mentioned I might go through a second facial mutation, so that adds up.”

Ada said, “Oh, a shame to lose that pretty face of yours.”

“Ha,” Leon said, not falling for it. “Like it isn’t lost already?” She didn’t say anything to that so he asked, “You say I got time? Because I don’t match the other creature you saw?” She nodded her head. “Right, well, better stop wasting that time here then. Not like you’re going to tell me anything useful.”

“Never said that,” Ada said as she pushed off from the wall. “Come on, I can be helpful. On occasion. Give me your radio frequency.”

“So you can use me?”

“So I can help you.” Leon rolled his eyes and flared his jaws. He seemed to do that a lot, she was certain it was a facial expression she wasn’t catching. But he gave her his frequency. “You mentioned a name, Luis? What do you know about him?”

Now it was Leon’s turn to be secretive. “Why do you want to know? He important to you?”

“I’m running an errand for him, let’s say.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt.” Leon paused, then something caught his attention. Like before when he parted his mandibles, he could taste something on the air. He flared them and took deep breaths. Ada just seemed confused by his behavior, and he was too.

“Leon?”

Then it hit him. It the smell of the Plaga, no, it was his scent, but weak, diluted. “They got you too…” He didn’t wait for her to confirm it. He took another large breath and said, “I can smell it. You’re like me.”

“N-Not if I can help it. Sorry, Leon, but that look suits you more than it does me.”

“Then Luis told you the same thing he told me. That he could fix it. That’s your errand.”

She walked past him for the window. “Clever. You really aren’t that rookie anymore.”

“How long ago?” Leon asked but as he did a wave of pain shot up his spine. He knew Ada caught the way he flinched and pressed back against the bookcase.

“Yesterday evening.”

“Well,” he said, not able to hide the pain on his features. “You’re clearly not as receptive to it as I am. Or you’d be, as you put it, “just as lost” as me.” He groaned and thumped his head against the books. “This whole thing,” he gestured at his arms and legs, “took around five hours to kick in after infection.”

“Slower than the T-Virus at least,” Ada said. “We have that going for us.”

“Sure,” Leon ground his teeth behind closed mandibles. Another wave of pain traveled up his spine. He could feel skin break. “Why now?” he growled the question to himself but he didn’t doubt that Ada could hear him. 

Ada watched him grimace and close his eyes. His mandibles flared then clamped against his face. He had started to breathe hard. “Are you ok?”

“No,” Leon said, he wasn’t going to lie. Not that he’d be able to. “Ever see a man grow a t-tail before?” He growled in pain as another wave shot up his spine. He could feel his back plates lift. Ada watched him but said nothing. He clarified, “I’m mutating. Again.” This time the pain took him to his knees. He swore and clutched his head. Even though the pain originated at his lower back, his head was pounding. “L-Luis said,” words were getting hard to form. “He said that the tail was next. D-Did the thing that you saw have a tail?” 

“No idea, it was wearing a big black cloak.” She started to back away from him. “It also wanted me dead. Do you want me dead?”

Leon tipped to the floor. He curled in on himself as another sharp round of needles went up his back. His legs were too long now, they felt awkward to try to tuck up. “Sometimes I think I want you dead,” he admitted. “But n-not because of Saddler.” He hissed. “Shit.”

“Interesting, and why would you want me dead Leon?”

“You sure have- haven’t done the world any f-f-favors after Raccoon City.”

“Oh,” she said. “Still sore about that?” This time when he snarled it wasn’t just from the pain. She could tell. “Right. Like I’ve said, nothing personal.” She turned to leave, like she should have from the start. Ada was smart enough not to stick around and watch a monster be born. Especially not a monster that could kill her. But she was also trained to put down problems before they could become worse. When she looked back at Leon on the floor, drooling, scraping at the wooden floor with too sharp claws, she decided he could very easily become a big problem.

She took her foot down from the windowsill and crouched at Leon’s side. The blacktail was removed from its holster and placed against Leon’s head. He looked up at her with most tired eyes she had ever seen. “You get one last thing from me,” she told him. Leon nodded. “Do you want me to shoot you? It’ll be quick, clean, you’ll be dead before you even register I pulled the trigger. Before you turn fully.”

Leon looked up at Ada then rested his head on the floor. His hair covered most of one eye, but the other he trained on her. She was offering him a professional courtesy. He’d do the same for her. When dealing with an B.O.W. infection there is always a period of lucidity before the end. She was questioning if his had just run out. The professional response would be to accept and die before you lost what remained of yourself. But Leon had other plans.

“No,” he said after a pause that was only a few seconds but felt like years. “I have a job to do. And I’m going to see it done.” This time the wave of pain was so strong he jolted and cried out. He could feel the gun press against his head again. Ada might not be willing to honor his request. He couldn’t say he’d blame her. But he was in no condition to fight back. “I can’t fail again,” he said. “Please, Ada, you can’t let me fail again. I promised it would be different.”

The tip of the gun wavered against his temple. Then it pulled away completely. “Damn it Leon,” he heard her say as she backed off. “Don’t make me regret this. Be a good bug and don’t get in my way.”

“Thanks,” he managed to say before he tucked his head in and howled in agony.

Ada climbed halfway out the window. She took one last look back at the man on the floor. She could hear the sound of fabric ripping and flesh tearing. Leon cried out in pain. “Not sure you should thank me.” She pulled out her grapple gun and aimed for a bit of rooftop across from the room she was in. When he screamed again she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

[wildmtthyme]

Chapter 3: Run

Warnings: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries/Torture, Sexual Assault/Rape(Implied)(Not by Ghost), Killing

Chapter Notes: The mask is off.

Synopsis: Simon was no stranger to torture and frankly, as far as torture went? This was pretty tame. What he hadn't ever experienced before, however, was coming out the other side with more than when he went in. - A random drabble that turned into a full blown story. The original title had been "Fairytale Stuff" but I changed it after some thought.

<- Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 ->

Series Masterlist

He didn’t solidify a plan until one day… one day that changed it all for him. They brought her back without her dress on. They threw her down on the floor, she landed on her hands and knees shaking so damned much. They didn’t even shackle her, just left her like that with a sick, dark, chuckle and locked the door. And just left. When he rushed over to her, she’d scrambled away from him. She’d pressed herself against the bars, shaking like a fucking leaf and he knew… he knew what they’d done. Even as weak as he was… even as injured as he was… a fury burned through his veins so damned bright that he thought he literally erupted in flames.

“Mare.” He breathed her name and watched as she just shook her head, her eyes squeezed tight, her hands gripping the bars white-knuckle. She was curled up as tight as she could get. He tugged the burlap ‘blanket’ off one of the bed-rolls they’d been ‘granted’ because of the cold. He approached her slow. “Come now… you know me.” He whispered and he saw her eyes crack… tears. For the first time in… easily months at this point… he saw tears.

She held her hand out, her palm facing him as it shook so damned much that it almost looked like she was waving. D-d-don’t. He shook his head at her and still, he approached… just enough to ease the burlap over her, covering her up. “S’just me, love.” He kept his voice low. She pressed her brow into the bars and wept quietly… and he just kept the burlap pressed against her as he settled beside her. And his mind started ticking off boxes. Things to do. And by the time she cried herself to sleep… he had a plan. It was a long-shot but he couldn’t wait for the boys anymore.

The next time that cell-door opened… he acted. He strangled the first with his chain… while the second tried to get at him, he used the first as a shield. She barely managed it but she did… she leapt onto the back of the second, her own chain, free of her, wrapped twice around his neck… she wretched it so hard and so fast, he heard the bones in the man’s neck snap. He went down quick and she was thrown, splayed on the ground before he managed to kill his guy.

They’d only been sending two for awhile now- thinking them both too weak to do anything. He quickly started stripping them… and she helped as she could. They dressed… she was swallowed by the shirt and jacket; she ignored the pants all together but she did take the man’s boxers. The pants would just slower her down, she said. He nodded.

The boots were a no-go, way too small. But because he was so damned thin now, he managed to fit into the pants. He wished they’d had a gun but he guessed that maybe that was a good thing. He had no idea how many of them there were up there and he knew that stealth was their best shot.

Once upstairs… she had the forthright to intervene into his plan and side-step into what looked like some kind of pantry. She grabbed freeze-dried foods… stuffing them into a sack along with a pot. She grabbed a box of matches on her way out and rushed back to his side. He managed to lift a rifle, a box of ammo, and most importantly, a radio… and they ran for it. He knew that whatever looked out for good, decent people was lookin’ out for her and he was just along for the ride because they made it out without sounding the alarm.

They were in the middle of fucking nowhere… but they covered a lot of ground. Both being barefoot though, sucked. Big time. By dawn, he couldn’t even see what had ended up being a fucking castle. They’d covered a lot of ground…  but he didn’t want to risk using the radio just yet.

He built them a small shelter and she made a small fire… boiled some water from a stream and soaked some of the vegetables at the same time… made a soup of sorts. It tasted like nothing but they both drank it down greedily. He had sat on the bank and watched as she stripped out of everything and sat down in that ice cold water and scrubbed her body with some moss, as if she couldn’t stand it another moment. And though he knew that she’d likely be courting with hypothermia… he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He just tried to warm her back up inside their lean-to once she was done. It wasn’t like she was a whole lot cleaner and she just got dirty all over again the next day as they transversed the mountainous terrain… but he knew it made her feel cleaner. They spoke little… and he hardly let go of her hand the whole time.

[kellanved-ammanas]

TF2 Drabbles: Spy/Soldier - Hidden Sides

Summary: could i request a fic where soldier shows that he's much more gentle than he lets on, and everyone finds out and they're like "what the 😦"??

[A/N]: I decided to focus this mostly on Spy because I really like Freedom Fries.

~

“It’s not my fault, honest,” Scout said. “How was I supposed to know she’d run off like that?”

“Because I told you she would.” Spy had made it pretty damn clear that if his bedroom door was left open, Bijou would get out. Which was yet another reason why he didn’t want anyone in there when he wasn’t around. Not that that ever stopped Scout who seemed to take every locked door as a challenge to pick it.

“I just wanted to pet her. You can’t just keep a cat in your room and expect me not to sneak in to see her.”

“So you left the door open.”

“On accident! And I tried to catch before she got too far but that only made her run away faster. I’m fast and all, fastest man alive and all that but she’s small and can fit in places I can’t so she’s got away. But I came and told you about it as soon as I realized I’d lost her. I think I should get some credit for that because I didn’t have to, you know? I could’ve just let you find out she’s missing all by yourself.”

He had a point. Owning up to his mistakes wasn’t something Scout did often. If Spy weren’t mad at him he probably would’ve been proud.

“Fine. Help me find her. And if anything bad happens to her, I’m holding you responsible.” The area around the base was dangerous for a cat and even if she stayed inside, she posed a threat to Medic’s birds which put her in danger if Medic caught her acting on that threat. Not to mention all the various dangerous chemicals she could get into in Demo or Medic’s lab or she might get her tail or paw caught in one of the machines in Engie’s workshop. Or who knows what else? There was a reason Spy had been keeping her in his room, only letting her out under his supervision.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’ll find her in no time, I’m sure.”

~

They didn’t find her in ‘no time.’ Despite searching high and low and eventually getting most of the rest of the team in on the search there was no sign of Bijou anywhere. She was simply gone. Spy was just about to head outside to look for her out there in hopes of her still being nearby when…

“Yo, we found her.”

Spy turned to face Scout. “Where?”

“The shooting range with Soldier.”

Given Soldier’s proclivity for yelling and violence, as well as the fact it was the shooting range where he would be actively firing explosive rockets, Spy didn’t like the sound of that. So without further ado, he turned and started that way, Scout falling in step with him.

Upon reaching it, the rest of the team was inside already, gathered around presumably Soldier.

“… not allowed to move,” Soldier was just finishing up saying.

“You know,” Engie said, “I wouldn’t have thought you of all folk would be the type to who’d be so against the idea of mildly inconveniencing an animal.”

“It is not a mild inconvenience. She is sleeping. It would be un-American to wake her.” Soldier even spoke quieter than usual.

Spy quickly sidled into the group, forcing his way to the front to see what was going on. Soldier sat in the chair next to the table meant to lay out one’s ammo and guns. His rocket launcher was on it as were some rockets. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to using it though as on his lap was Bijou, curled up and asleep.

“Has she been here this whole time?” Spy asked in lieu of letting out a sigh of relief. As odd was it was to find her cuddling with Solider of all people, at least she was safe and not in danger of getting hunted by coyotes.

“Yes. She showed up as I was about to start my target practice. I sat down to pet her but then she jumped up on my lap and fell asleep. I have been here ever since.”

“Thank you very much for keeping her safe.” Spy approached, intending to pick her up. Before he could touch her though, Solider lifted the hand that had been stroking her to block him.

“She is sleeping. Do not move her.”

Spy didn’t like to disturb her when unnecessary either but there were limits. “You are aware she’s a cat, right? Cats can sit and sleep for hours at a time. You can not intend to sit there for that long.”

“If that is how long she wishes to stay, that is how long I will sit here for. Unless an emergency happens like if the enemy attacks.”

“Wow,” Scout said from somewhere behind Spy, “and here everyone was thinking you were just dumb and violent. Turns out you also like cats but I guess who doesn’t like cats.”

“Cats are nice,” Soldier said as he lowered his hand to stat petting Bijou again, very gently and lovingly.

Scout had a point though, everyone including Spy, had discounted Solider as just ‘dumb and violent’. Everyone had sides, Spy knew that well and delighted in sneakily finding the sides people liked to hide away. He hadn’t given much thought to attempting to do so with Soldier though, thinking it’d be a waste of time. Perhaps he should start paying more attention though and finding out what other kinds of depths Soldier has within him. For now though…

“Very well, I will leave her in your care for now. If you would kindly return her to my room after she wakes up and moves herself, that would be much appreciated.”

“Yes, sir. I promise she will be safe with me until then.” He even saluted. How… endearing.

[crowcryptid]

spoilers for ac6 below :3

I just finished new game + and it’s obvious that they intended for you to do the fires route first and then do the liberator route.

Cause the new content is almost entirely about helping the RLF.

I did it backwards so it’s like. “Im helping! I’m being helpful! Ok now that I’ve given them false hope time to burn them to a crisp lol get trolled”

Don’t talk to me about Rusty that’s Not Real trust me in both endings he just um.. he just runs away it’s fine. :]

Ayres fight is SUCH bs oh my god. It just sucks to see the enemy dodge the second you press anything. I thought the chapter 4 boss was bad with the input reading, but she’s even worse. It only took me 3 tries but I got so close on the first 2 tries and died cause I couldn’t land ANYTHING once she got to like 10% health. Any other boss would have died but she perfect dodged literally everything and I died 5 seconds later. Even my assault armor didn’t do anything cause she would dodge out of it every single time.

I didn’t feel like spending an hour or two on it so I switched to zims. She just dodges like 90% of your attacks once she starts flying around. The shotgun spread is pretty much the only reason I was able to hit her with them. Didn’t even bother trying to melee her, I just used the 10 count missiles launchers and hoped for the best. But nothing survives the dual zim. Nothing.

I somehow managed to pick the harder missions every time in my first run. This one was so much easier. I did die once to the chap 4 boss though. Fuck that thing. Fuck those wheels too. I grabbed every log and part so I had to deal with them. They actually managed to kill me so I had to do that twice.

I can’t believe how much easier Walter is as a final boss. I definitely didn’t get to hear all his dialogue. It’s actually kind of sad that he’s so weak.

I guess to make up for the weak final boss you’ve got Chatty/Carla and Snail. I thought they were VERY annoying, but my first playthrough build was a slow quad leg so I could never dodge anything and that’s probably why I found those fights so annoying. Key word here is annoying, not so much input reading bs. Just spammy heavy hitting attacks + my slow giant mech meant I was getting melted.

The stuff they throw at you in the fires route is nothin. Didn’t even use 2 repair kits on those levels. But then it’s made up for by.. an annoying boss. So take your pick.

Liberator > Fires for me.

I still think the hardest thing in the game (so far) was Michigan. Mainly because of ammo. That’s the only mission I ever ran out of all ammo on, during multiple attempts. Finishing by punching while being so low on health was stressful. That’s also when I learned that punching has a cooldown meter?? Why?

All throughout new game + I used Walters armor with some high accuracy arms so I was a lot faster than my first run. Switched between machine guns, various pistols, and various rifles, except for the end where I said fuck it we Zimming. I mainly used the medium weight and heavy weight plain old lock on missiles and various melee weapons for my back slots. Everything else just seems too inconsistent, and multi lock deals with all the fodder to save ammo. I really wish the guns in this had more ammo. The pistols really need more shots. I think the energy pistols and needle guns ended up being my favorite, somehow. Also I really liked the basically lightsaber weapon u get but it was not useful for most bosses so I didn’t use it as much as I wanted to.

New game ++ begins now. I didn’t have this one spoiled for me so yay

Idk if I will have the strength to S rank every level. Some levels seem very tedious. Idk how tight the time limits are though. That’s what worries me. I’m bad at going fast against bosses.

[incessantwhine]

crazy that all i had to do was wait, be consistent & show up for long enough before nearly everyone else showed their true colors. im not happy about it. rly disgusted and disappointed by other ppl, actually. but things are different now.

im more secure in what i have to offer, kind of. at this point it’s just being reliable and not a fucking creep. talk about a long game — 2 years? but hopefully that’s enough time to make it clear that what you see & what i say is…actually what you get. i still have big feelings but that’s just because i care a lot. theres a lot less pining on my end, that’s for sure. it’s challenging at times, because nothing truly great is ever “easy”, but in a healthy way.

the tiny gremlin part of my brain is a little tickled that even though I don’t have the most money, or the greatest availability, i managed to still be someone important. but that’s not at all the point.

i do wish things could be different if only so people stop failing her. it’s abhorrent. i hate to see her upset, or down, or feeling insecure. nothing enrages me more than ppl exploiting vulnerability. and personally extremely irritating because if i were lucky enough to have an opportunity like they did; i wouldn’t waste it by being a disappointment. but I can only control my own actions and all i can do is continue to be a reliable support in my own way.

im going to be collared in april. i think. trying to keep my expectations low & be mindful & sensitive as to why she maybe wouldn’t want to jump into that at this time. but i hope for it ❤️

i do feel fiercely protective of her. i have the urge, even just for a week or two, to have her in her own bubble. where only people she AND I trust are allowed in and she won’t have to worry about anything. anyone else has to answer to me first, a full blown interrogation. where every whim is cared for & need is anticipated. something that protects her peace at any cost. it’s not realistic nor is it the way she wants to live (it would be incredibly isolating i think) but the urge is there.

i know that part of me is not sane or rational. but other people wronging people I care for has been my biggest trigger as long as i can remember and I just have to live with it. it’s white hot rage unlike anything else i experience. i don’t really recognize who I am when I feel that extreme. it goes beyond what is normal, really. but I have a much better grip on it than i used to. i don’t say things to whoever is evoking that feeling anymore because it’s truly my most despicable self. i get very intentionally cruel—all of a sudden i am using whatever knowledge i have of that person against them. every insecurity, personal failing, anything becomes ammo for insults that are so personal and specific. i really set out to harm that person deeply and however I can & it’s gross. but again: I handle it better now. i do wish i didn’t. i would feel better if i could say it all. but that’s for my sake; it doesn’t benefit whoever I’m “protecting”.

anyway. onto the next thing.

[wkemeup]

Play Pretend

summary: When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 7.8k warnings: smut (18+), sex pollen (with as much consent as one can have in a dub/con trope)

“What in the—” you slammed an elbow to the nose of the assailant behind you, “holy,” a quick right jab to another coming up on your left, “godforsaken,” a knee plunged straight to your ribs and you kicked to the assailant who managed to get one up on you, “hell, Rogers!”

Another body fell to the ground and settled at the collection at your feet.

Dripping in sweat, heart pounding in your chest, and your body short of giving out completely, you slumped a shoulder against the cold frame of the wall. Down the hall, at least a dozen more Hydra agents were barreling towards you.

There was no response on the coms; not that you expected as much. The Hydra base in Munich you were tasked with rigging to blow was meant to be abandoned. Nothing left but a dozen empty cells and decades of barbaric research no one should ever lay eyes on again.

Seemed Captain Roger’s intel was just slightly off. Tell that to the series of bodies lying in your wake.

“You better send backup, Rogers, or I swear to God I’ll haunt your star-spangled ass for all eternity,” you grumbled to the broken transmission as you attempted to square up. Fists out ahead of you, swaying slightly on weakened legs, a dizziness in your vision making it hard to tell exactly how many men were charging straight at you.

“What? I’m not enough for you?” Bucky suddenly appeared on your right, chuckling to himself as he released the empty magazine from his weapon and quickly replaced it with a new one. Blood was soaked into his hair line, mixing with the sweat beaded on his forehead, and he brushed the back of his hand against his face to smear it back into his hair.

“About time you showed up. Making me do all the hard work myself,” you scoffed, shooting him a teasing smile as you eyed the hallway he came rushing in from.

He insisted you’d be out in time for movie night back home if the two of you split up, divided the C4 amongst you and met back at the quinjet in twenty. Not even his super soldier instincts could have predicted this place would be overrun with stray Hydra agents looking for a rematch.

One of the agents opposing you whipped out a handgun and Bucky jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield. The bullets ricocheted across the room, puncturing into another Hydra agent who collapsed to the ground clutching his knee.

You exhaled a heavy breath, the edges of your lips dipping down into a frown as you watched more agents stepping over the bodies of their colleagues and advancing down the hallway. You glanced up at Bucky, watching as he weighed the rifle in his hands, bouncing it lightly. It was running low on ammo.

“You get anyone on coms yet?”

“Nothing. We’re on our own.” Bucky gritted his teeth, firing a few rounds down at the mass of Hydra agents swarming their way towards you. It knocked a few of them down, at least.

You started to take a few steps in their direction, yanking a knife from the spine of an agent on the ground before you whipped it down at the ones ahead of you, knocking another to the ground. The echo of gunfire tore through the cramped hall again and it left a pile of men at the front lines.

Four left.

“That was my last round,” Bucky grunted, tossing the weapon to the floor as he tugged a small blade from the holster on his thigh. He smirked as he glanced over at you through the corner of his eye. “Who do you want?”

You shrugged, studying the four agents who came to a slow halt at the opposite end of the hallway. The two on the left looked about as you’d expected from Hydra agents; tall, dark haired, with shoulders twice as wide as their hips and a vicious kind of look in their eyes. Then, a blonde-haired woman who couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Bucky, a hand resting impatiently on the knife against her hip. Last, a man who towered at least two feet above the others with a long, jagged scar covering most of his face.

“I’ll take the two on the right.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and your chosen assailants. The taller one cracked his neck to the side and bared his teeth.

“You’re sure?”

You feigned offense; a hand pressed your heart as you took a few steps forward, sliding the batons out from the holsters along your shoulder blades and twirling them between your fingers. “You underestimate me, Barnes. You think I’d let you have all the fun?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up with you, disregarding the battle cries of the Hydra agents as they advanced as if it was only ever the two of you in the room. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”

The blonde woman stared to advance on Bucky, eyes trailing him up from his boots to the top of his head with a devilish kind of look in her stare. She licked at her lips hungrily, as if she was ready to take a bite into him, though he paid her no mind as he rushed at the two men to her right.

“Hey, Barbie!” you called, waving a baton in the air to grab her attention. “Looks like your stuck with me.”

She glared at you, pausing in her strut for only a minute, but it was all you needed. You sprinted towards her, using the wall as leverage as you jumped up against the frame to propel yourself into her. Baton at ready, you slammed down into her collarbone as she let out a yelp and fell down to the ground. It didn’t take her long to get back on her feet and when she did, her knife was nestled tight into her grip, a new kind of intrigue on her face as she stared you down.

“Need any help over here?” Bucky called out from the end of the hallway as he ducked under the right hook of one of his assailants. He clipped one in the knees, sending them spiraling to the floor with a pained shout, before he smirked over in your direction.

“Mind your business, Barnes!” You rolled your eyes as a smile crept up against your lips.

Barbie took a single glance back at Bucky before her eyes returned to you and there was something darker within her stare you didn’t quite notice, or perhaps you simply mistook it for enemy territory. Either way, when she raised her arm with knife in hand, you whipped around the baton in a backhanded strike, sending the knife flying down the hall. Unarmed, she stared at you with wide, fearful eyes, until you knocked her out with a final hit to the side of her. Nothing fatal, but it would keep her under until backup arrived to hull her in.

Bucky was still fighting off his second attacker as you approached the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting. He pushed himself off the wall, cracked his knuckles between his palms with sharp snaps that echoed down into the hallway.

“Think you can take me, little girl?” he taunted, voice low and thick, like it had gone years in disuse. He made a show of the way he settled into his stance; fists held out in front of him, shadow boxing in an attempt to intimidate you. It seemed to catch him off guard when you rolled your eyes.

“It’s been a long day,” you shrugged, “and frankly, I’d like to go home. So, let’s make this quick.”

The arrogant smirk dropped from his face, replaced quickly with a wash of rage that a woman half his size would dare mock him in such a way. But he was clumsy in his stance and in his swings, so you saw each of his moves coming a mile ahead. With every right hook, you slid under his arm and stepped out behind him. In every jab, you side stepped out of reach. He exhausted himself while you made little effort in your defense. Without a single offensive throw, he was panting in a matter of minutes.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he bellowed, loud enough to make Bucky pause for a moment and you winced as his assailant took advantage of the moment to get in a punch to his jawline. He recovered quickly, giving you the security to face your own attacker head on. The Hydra giant was dripping in sweat, red in the face, teeth bared and near feral. “Fight me!”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

As he threw his next swing, you met it with the brunt of your baton, stilling him in his stance. He stared at you, wide eyes and jaw slacked, as you winked at him and dove under his legs. Before he could manage to turn around, you flicked at switch at the bottom of the batons which emitted an electrical pulse from the top edge and plunged it into the man's neck.

He convulsed, gargling out a few incoherent words, before he collapsed to the floor at your feet. You grinned, sliding the batons into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

“Alright, I take it all back,” Bucky’s voice chuckled from behind you. “You don’t need me at all.”

You laughed, shaking your head as several strands fell down into your face, lost to the bun at the top of your head in the struggle. As you turned to face Bucky, you found him standing with his hands planted on his hips and the brightest smile on his face, one that took him years to find again since you first met him and damn if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

But then, there was a sudden rush of movement on the ground. One of the Hydra agents wrestled back up to his feet behind Bucky, a malice imbedded deep into his glare, a determination as he rushed forward.

There was little time to think as you lunged for the knife you broke free of the blonde agent’s hand and whipped it across the room. It plunged straight into the man’s jugular and he fell backwards, hands sliding out from around Bucky’s neck as blood coated the tile floors.

“Shit,” you panted, hands on your knees. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Slowly, heart pounding in your chest, you glanced up to find him pulling a syringe from his neck. He stared at it for a second, stunned as a few stray droplets dripped from the edge of the needle before he dropped it to the ground, letting it slip out from his fingers limply. The vile was empty as it rolled along the tile and settled against the dead body of its owner.

“Bucky?”

There was a sudden, paralyzing dread that swept over his features, one that seemed to worsen as his eyes fell upon yours. Then, his knees started to buckle, his stance falling unsteady and you rushed forward, darting under his arm to catch him before could lay amongst the bodies of Hydra agents. He was shaking, hands trembling, and you could feel the sharp rise and fall of his breath as you held him steady.

“We have to get you out of here,” you said, trying to push down the panic etching its way up your spine, but Bucky shook his head.

“No time.” It was all he could mutter out.

“Bucky, you've just been injected with God knows what and we need to get to you a medic or—”

“There,” he grunted, pointed to an open room at the end of the hallway. With a thick, metal door and dozen locks lining the outside, it was more of a cell than a room. You started to shake your head, but Bucky gripped tight to your arm. “Y/n, please.”

You watched him carefully, noticed how he couldn’t seem to meet your eye, how sweat was beading at his hairline more profusely than it was in the midst of a battle, how his breaths were broken and trembling on every exhale.

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” You slowly guided him to step over the bodies at your feet, most unconscious, others not as lucky, and swiftly led him into the cell. It seemed to put him at ease as you aided him to sit on one of the metal chairs at the center of the room. As you released your touch from his arm, a rush of what appeared to be pain twisted into his facial features though he tried to hide it.

“So, what do we do now?” you asked. “I could try to find the lab. They could have counteractants to whatever this is. Or I could try to fix the coms... but we all know Parker’s a lot better with that stuff than I am.”

You laughed, trying to ease the tension in the room, but it was so thick you could have cut through it with the blunt edge of your baton. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, his hands curling around the undersides of the chair until the metal warped under his grip.

“You need to leave.”

Your smile dropped. “What? No, are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone after—”

“Go!” His voice boomed against the walls and you tried not to let the shock startle you.

“Bucky, stop. That’s not happening.” You dug your fingers into your hips as you paced back over the door, stole a quick glance in both directions. It was still empty save for the bodies lying in your wake. It seemed you and Bucky were entirely alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We’ll figure something out, okay? We always do. This can’t be worse than the time we were buried in that old chevy under twelve feet of snow in Alaska last year, can it?”

You shot him a grin, hoping to ease him, though it did little use. His face was red, jaw stoned. He looked like he was barely breathing.

“You’re not hearing me,” Bucky groaned, his voice molding into something darker. “You're not safe here. You need to leave. Now. Before I... Before I can’t control this. Before I hurt you.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What are you talking about? Do you… Do you know what that stuff was?”

Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away from you the best he could. He let out a pained groan and kicked the chair out from under him. It slammed against the wall with a harsh clash and forced a skip in your heartbeat, a hand darting up to your chest. Bucky leaned over the table, trying to find support, but he ended up gripping onto the sides hard enough to dent imprints in the shape of his hands.

You rushed forward, desperate to help because you couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It touched upon the thick straps of Kevlar for only a second, and still, it was enough to elicit a visceral reaction. He whined, something between a moan and cry, and he slumped down out of your reach.

“Don’t touch me,” Bucky warned, though his voice broke in the effort. His breaths were labored and heavy, and still it seemed as though he could barely get one in. “Please. You—You have to get away from me. I’m— I’m begging you.”

Bucky choked back a cry, biting down hard on his lower lip, and it was then you noticed his right hand palming at the hardened outline nestled tight against his thigh. He pressed the heel of his left into his eyes, shame burning hot against his ears and cheeks and trailing down in red patches along his neck. He tried to hide behind his hair, hide from you, but it was enough; you recognized what this was.

It was a serum created by Hydra in the seventies, meant to create inhumans of their own design when the clinical measures were proving unsuccessful. It was created to induce a euphoric state, a primal need beyond personal control, to put its host through hell until Hydra had what it wanted: a viable chance at an inhuman child.

“Bucky,” you called gently, though all you earned was a whimpered grunt in response. Slowly, you crossed the plane of the room to him and laid a hand against his collar. His eyes fluttered shut in response, his whole body keenly alert to every touch.

“You should leave,” he warned again, his gaze slowly drawing up to meet your own; a glossy shine shielded over a stunning ocean blue. “Let me... let me take care of this on my own. I’ll be f-fine.”

“It’ll be agonizing,” you told him, having remembered the speech Tony gave a few months back after the team first encountered the serum in Peru. “It won’t kill you, but it will feel pretty damn close. Nothing you do on your own will relieve it. It doesn't work like that. You need someone to help you through this.”

He shook his head. “No. I won’t-- I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied gingerly, drawing your hand up along his arm, tracing over swells of muscle as watching the way a shiver followed so tenderly in your wave. You rested your hand along his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eyes. He was scorching hot. You smiled at him, something soft and gentle, something sad. “I’m offering, Bucky.”

“No,” he grunted out. “I—I can’t. I won’t.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to the side. It was remarkable he was able to hold himself back this long, let alone decline an offer when presented to him. You’d heard the stories of men to devolved to a near primal state, who attempted to jump the first person they saw and fought their way to release. Bucky was determined to spare you, even as you offered, even knowing that turning you down would put him through a world of pain.

“Okay,” you conceded. “Tell me what you need. Tell me something I can do, Buck, because I can’t just watch you in pain like this.”

Bucky stared at you, pupils blown wide, almost as if he could see right through you.

“Need to get this off,” he finally admitted, eyes drifting down to his suit.

“Okay,” you replied steadily. “Do you want help?”

He shook his head, his stare glued to the floor, but you could see the way his hands were reaching out for you, how he had to keep himself in check and hold them firmly at his sides. He tried to unfasten the buckle at his chest himself, but within seconds he let out a hallowed cry, dropping his head in defeat.

“Hurts,” he exhaled, and slowly his eyes came back up to yours. He forced out a halfhearted smile the best he could. “Can you...?”

You returned the nervous smile, as you took a cautious step forward. He followed your every move as your hands extended towards his chest, fingers clipping the buckles easily as they unsnapped down his jacket. Each one left a new breath of relief in its wake, like he was just on the edge of the surface, under only a few inches of water.

Your hands slid under the seams, helping to slip the sleeve down his right arm, and Bucky choked back a moan. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just slightly, and you jumped back.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His cheeks were near on fire.

“It’s alright, Buck. It’s not your fault.” You reached out for him again. “Here, let me help with your belt.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” His hands were shaking as he started to fidget with the buckle. He swayed on his feet, trying to find some relief. As he unfastened the latch and unbuttoned the hem of his pants, his eyes flashed up to you. He exhaled a heavy breath. “Can you... Christ... can you turn around?”

The look on his face, the shame radiating from every ounce of him, shattered you right to your core. You nodded quickly, turning your back to him and making your way to the door. He needed privacy – of course, he did. He didn’t need you around to bear witness to the consequences of Hydra’s newest attempt to leave him powerless and vulnerable.

But just as you approached the door, Bucky called out quietly, “don’t go.”

You stilled in an instant, though you didn’t dare to turn around.

“It, um,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think it helps if you’re here. If that’s alright.”

“Need something to look at, huh?” you laughed, trying to make light of the impossible position he was in, and you were thankful for the short chuckle you heard behind you.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You’re the only one here,” he replied, a teasing back in his tone, and no matter how tense it was or how forced it felt, it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, shaking your head. Leave it to the two of you to find the humor in a situation like this. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress the grin, though it did little use.

Then, you heard the soft fall of his shirt to the floor. Quickly followed by the pants of his suit, dropping to the ground in a heap. He exhaled a breath that sounded as though he hadn’t done so in years and you found yourself wondering what he looked like standing there behind you, naked and aching, harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“Swear you won’t tell Sam about this.”

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek to hold back another laugh. “No promises.”

“Y/n.”

“You’ve got to be in crippling pain, Buck. You don’t have time to be embarrassed right now,” you shot back teasingly. “Stop edging.”

“Fine, okay,” he grumbled back, though you could hear the light in his voice, even if it was a little tense. “Just… give me a second.”

The room became impossibly quiet, painfully so, and you waited under bated breath for something to happen. The smile slowly left your lips, fading into a restless frown as you listened intently to his labored breathing, the tight groans of pain, until finally, his hand circled around the base of his cock.

The whine that left his lips was near sinful, and you felt your own breath hitch in your chest as you listened to soft whimpers parting his lips as he stroked himself, covering his length in the precum dropping at his tip. Heavy breaths and wet pumps of his closed hand around his cock, and you clenched your thighs together, wondering how his eyes might travel over your frame.

But God – those sounds he made were beautiful. You could picture him tugging his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut, his shoulders slacking, knees falling a little weak the harder he gripped at himself. Little murmurs of ‘oh god,’ and ‘fuck yes,’ and ‘please’ as he fucked his fist.

You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but your lip was nearly chewed raw, nails indented into the palms of your hands. You could hear how close he was, how his movements picked up in pace, how his breaths labored, how his moans filled the room higher and higher until – it stopped.

Sudden and aching, he lost it before the fall and your heart broke as you heard him cry out in pain.

“Bucky?” you called softly, not daring to turn around to face him after he asked you not to. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hands clenched tight, and you swore your knees would buckle out from under you if you unlocked them for even a second.

“Fuck, I… I can’t...”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you tried again, worried. There was a panic in his voice that wasn’t there before, a desperate longing etched into every syllable, and it scared you.

“I can smell you,” he said simply, achingly.

Your breath hitched and you squeezed your legs together. There was a throbbing there, an emptiness you couldn’t quite shake. “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he replied quickly and you could tell he was contemplating his options. He was growing desperate and that lingering sense of control he maintained was slipping through his fingers. “No, I— You were right. I can’t do it on my own. I need—fuck. I need…”

“Just ask,” you offered again, head tilting just enough to the side that he could see your face but you kept your stare to the wall. “I’m here. I’m saying yes. Just tell me what you need.”

“You.”

It surprised you as he said it; a little lower, a little darker, but certain.

Slowly, you turned to face him.

Sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Bucky carried the most beautiful lines across his body; divots along muscles and carvings of delicate design. You could tell he expected your eyes to fall straight to his shoulder, to the mess of scars and metal he loathed, or to the vulnerability standing hard in his grasp, but instead, you kept your gaze focused on his eyes.

Bucky stood completely naked before you, his right hand still pumping slowly around his cock as you edged forward. He watched you, biting at his lip as he flicked his thumb over his tip. Eyes trailed down over your frame greedily, hungrily, as if the act of simply looking was enough to draw a twitch from his cock. He tugged his lip between his teeth, tightening his grip around himself.

As you came up beside him, you reached up and sat your hand against his right shoulder, watching how he closed his eyes in response, how his jaw slacked. His lazy thrusts evened out, slowing down, as you traced your hand down his arm, simply lost in your touch. Your hand slid down his bicep, over raised muscle, along his forearm to his wrist, and then, you gently nudged his hand from his cock and replaced it with your own.

His lips fell open, a slight tremble in his breath as you gripped him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, leaning against you as he caged you to what appeared to be an interrogation table. You felt the warped metal against your thighs from where he’d clutched at it just moments earlier.

Steadily, you began to pump him in your hand, careful to spread the wet of his precum down his shaft. He was hard within your grasp, painfully so, enough that you could feel the crystal outline of a vein running up along the underside. You pressed your thumb against it as you slid your hand up to his tip and brushed it over his slit. The whine he released against your neck was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.

“This okay?”

“S’good.” He nodded meekly against your collar but you could feel the strain in his shoulders, the restraint that left his jaw wired shut and breaths tight.

“It’s not enough, though. Is it?” you asked gently, though you knew the answer. You knew what he needed and your hand, or even your mouth, would not be enough. The Hydra scientists knew what they were doing when they designed this. It had a very specific purpose and it would not yield for anything less.

“You don’t have to, Y/n,” he said, stronger than you’d heard his voice since he was injected. It took nearly all his strength.

You smiled, letting your free hand cup at the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, seeking more, almost instinctively. Bucky was a complicated man; capable of light-hearted jokes in the middle of a warzone and an immeasurable guilt and shame that had not left him in his years since he was freed from Hydra. He was your closest friend, your partner in the field, a man that you trusted above all others, a man you cared for in ways he would never quite understand.

“I’m here, Bucky. I’ve got you,” you whispered sweetly, but you could still feel his hesitance. “Listen to me, I’ll leave if you really want me to. I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want. But please, don’t send me away and leave you suffer through this alone because you think I don’t want you. I do, Buck. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away your pain. Let me.”

He stared at you for a moment, a strange mixture of disbelief and longing upon his features. Slowly his hands lifted from the table and felt for the clasp at the back of your suit. You nodded at him, and slid the zipper down your spine, exposing perfect, untouched skin. He pealed it down along your shoulders, over your chest and down your waist. You helped him remove it down to your feet and kicked it off to the floor beside his own.

His eyes drifted to your chest, hands itching to reach out, but he held them firm at his sides.

“It’s okay, Buck. You can touch me,” you told him, reaching behind your back and releasing the clasp of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and you let the fabric slip from you. Bucky swallowed, his eyes drifting to your exposed chest. A smile started to curve upon your lips the longer he stared at you, like you were something to revere.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if saying it purely for the state of fact.

Your heart skipped a beat, lips parting in a slight shock, and you wondered if this was what it was like for the women he brought home on cold, lonely nights from the bar. You’d seen the content smiles on their faces in the morning as they sauntered out of his room with messy hair and a blissful kind of look in their eyes.

Bucky wasn’t the cold, calculating man the papers made him out to be. He was kind, exceptionally sweet, and a selfless to a fault. You didn’t suspect he was any different in a bedroom.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I never thought this would be how—"

But then— his face started to contort and suddenly Bucky was keening over. He clutched at his stomach, digging his nails deep into the muscle and he nearly collapsed to his knees.

“Bucky!”

You grabbed a firm hold of his right arm, just enough to keep him steady, and even the smallest of touches alone seemed to ignite something in him. Goosebumps littered his skin and a sweet kind of whine escaped past his lips as you ran a hand soothingly along his spine.

“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” you warned gently. It was a miracle within itself he was still on his feet. This serum had put ordinary men into shock within minutes if they didn’t find release. Never enough to kill them, but just enough to make them wish it would.

Bucky followed you back to the table at the center of the room, his hand clasped tightly in your own. It was the most physical affection you’d shown for one another, a tenderness outside of the rush of foreign chemicals in his veins, and you tried not to think about the fallout you were bound to find after.

He helped to guide you onto the table, resting your back against the cool, metal surface. Then, slowly, he crawled on top of you. His eyes drifted down to your panties and you lifted your hips for him, giving him the permission he needed to pull them down your legs.

His hand slid down along your curves, drawing goosebumps in his wake, until he swiftly slid his fingers between your thighs. Dipping into the wetness at your core, he spread his fingers around, lubricating himself until he slid two easily inside of you.

“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned, back arching as he pumped them against your walls. “God, that feels—so good.”

His left hand was curled tightly into a fist near you head as he propped his body weight up against the arm; gears whirring, the scars at the base of his shoulder red in the strain of it. One quick glance at the tension coating his muscles, the sharp breaths in his chest, the whine as his cock touched your thigh, and you were pulled swiftly from the clouds, a startling reminder why you were doing this in the first place.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you told him, a little breathless as he added the third finger. “I’m fine, Buck. You need to come. This isn’t about me.”

He shook his head, determined. “You’re not ready yet.”

You chuckled, a heat of embarrassment washing over you, even as he scissored his fingers, stretching your walls. You had to choke back a moan and the urge to clamp your thighs together around his wrist.

“I’m more than ready,” you said, voice a little higher, hands clenching at the sides of the table as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. “Trust me, Buck. Just listening to you touch yourself was enough.”

You laughed again but the room was thick in tension, almost unbearably so. Bucky could hardly hear you. His hair had fallen down to shield his face, his gaze focused on where his fingers were lost to the most intimate parts of you; determined.

“It has to be good for you,” he muttered out slowly. You narrowed your eyes on him, growing worried as he seemed to retreat within himself. He was distant, his mind far away from his body. “It has to be good… it has to be good for you otherwise… otherwise I’m… I’m...”

He wouldn’t say it but you knew what he meant.

“Bucky, come back to me.” You reach up and grabbed a firm hold of his cheeks, thumbs at his jawline, and drew his attention to your eyes. It took him a moment to get there, but you found ocean blue again, even if it was clouded in dark, stormy skies. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about how I feel, alright? Just do what you need to, I’ll be fi—”

“I won’t use you like that!” Bucky snapped defiantly, startling you. “I don’t care that it feels like my skin is on fire and there’s knives carving through my body. I don’t care that I feel like I’m going to pass out and everything in me is fighting to force my way onto you and take what I want regardless of what it does to you! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I… I…” He was panting, red in the face, and he couldn’t seem to find his words. He swallowed, though it looked as though it burned. “It has to be good for you, okay?”

You nodded, running your hands gently along his arms; his left, solid metal, unwavering, and his right trembled deep within the tissue – the gentle movements of his forearm pressed up against your stomach, his fingers searching out a pleasure he so desperately needed you to feel.

“I…” he started before he clenched his jaw. A heavy exhale followed, a drop of his gaze, and he muttered out weakly, “I need to pretend this is real.”

Your lips parted in shock; heart stammering so painful in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. Before you could say anything, before you could ask him what he meant by that, Bucky let his fingers slip out from between your legs, resting slicked against your thigh. The emptiness was startling.

“I think you’re ready for me now.”

Bucky nestled himself between your legs, lined his length your entrance with a gentle sweep of his top through your folds. He shivered, something near violent as it shook through his spine, and you were reminded again that Bucky was suffering, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins that ripped away his control and left him powerless to Hydra.

His skin was flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead and down his neck. There were sharp marks in the palm of his right hand where he dug his own nails into his skin. His breaths were coming in quickly and uneven.

“Look at me,” you ordered, stern enough to draw his attention. “Don’t hold back. You need to get this out, okay? I will tell you if it’s too much.”

It took him a moment, a breath of contemplation, before he nodded; slow and hesitant. You could see the strain in his jawline, the tension in his shoulders from how much he was restraining himself. It must have been agonizing, but Bucky had been through worse in his life. You supposed pain had become a familiar friend, one he learned to tame and control, even when it ripped him apart.

The moment he pressed his tip past your entrance, as he bottomed out in one thrust, as he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him for the first time, Bucky nearly came on the spot. He gasped into your shoulder, sucking marks against your skin as he rolled his hips against you. Slow and steady at first, reveling in the feel of being consumed whole, of being taken so well, of a rush of endorphins and pleasure he’d never felt even in the peak of sex. Everything was heightened, every touch was immaculate; he could feel your heartbeat through the walls squeezing at his cock.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he moaned against your ear, breath hot, voice dangerously low. “Fuck you feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Goddamn perfect.”

You nodded, arms circling up around his shoulders as you rolled your hips to meet his own. You could still feel the stone carved tension in his muscle, how much he was holding back from what he needed. He was trying to be gentle with you, loving in a way the serum was not designed for, but it was testing him. He wouldn’t give into it, not in the way you asked him to, because Bucky had already lost so much to Hydra, already lost pieces of his mind and body, he would not let them take his soul, too.

“Just for you.” The words passed through your lips before you could quite catch onto their meaning. Your hands slipped down his chest as you brushed your thumbs against his nipples. He moaned, hips picking up in pace. He needed the encouragement, you realized. It was the only way he’d allow himself the release he needed to free his body of that serum.

He needed to pretend it was real.

He needed to pretend that you weren’t laying upon a cold, unforgiving table in an old Hydra base, that maybe this was something more than the consequences of a vile he didn’t ask for.

The line between the fantasy and reality was painfully thin.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbled breathily. The table began to squeak with every snap of his hips, with every drag of his cock at your core, the brush of his tip to the sweetest spot. It was easy to lose yourself in him, to forget that you were in an abandoned Hydra cell, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins determined to destroy him. He felt like heaven.

“S’all yours,” you whispered, drawing your hands down along his waist, slipping over his hips and gripping into the soft flesh of his ass. You pulled him deeper into you, daring him to go further. His pupils were blown so wide, you could barely see the blue in his eyes. He was slipping, barely holding into the restraint he so desperately clung to, and you rolled your hips at just the right angle, squeezed him enough to draw a mangled cry from his lips.

You kissed at the dip of his collar, sucking sweetly as he all but purred in response. Your lips mapped a path up his neck, along his jaw line, over cheekbones and at the tip of his nose, until you paused at his mouth. His heart was pounding, thunderous in his chest, and his hips seemed to pick up in pace with every kiss.

It wasn’t until you captured his lips against your own that Bucky lost the last ounce of control he had been clinging onto.

Something like a growl purred against your lips, a sound near feral, and the gentle push of his hips like ocean waves against you turned into quick, harsh snaps. He pulled his lips from you, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, until he found the place he was looking for and sunk his teeth to the crook of your shoulder.

“Ah, Bucky!”

All consuming. Feverish. A man untamed and he did not relent, not as your walls tightened around him like the twist of a coil, or as the sound of skin and wetness between your legs echoed high into the room, or when his fingers touched at your clit and rubbed harsh, quick and pressured circles until you were crying out so loudly, it must have carried through the whole base.

“Fuck! Ah, God, Bucky, don’t stop!”

Bucky groaned against you, sucking a mark where his teeth had met your flesh. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, the pulse of his cock in your cunt, the thick vein that ran along his underside as it added so sweetly to the pressure at your entrance. It was wild and unhinged, but God – it was good.

“Y-yeah, baby, right there,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts falling uneven, haphazard, needy. “F-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—ah, ah, f-fuck—”

The heat of him, the way he filled you so perfectly, the rush, and it pushed you over the edge. White hot and intoxicating, the wash of it broke open in floodgates and swept through you. His fingers did not let up on your clit as you squirmed and withered below him, his thrusts falling lazy as he chased the end of his release.

Breathless and a little dizzy as you came down from your high, you felt his heartbeat inside of you; quick, but even. The serum had done its work. It released him from its hold.

Bucky was panting, the full of his weight having fallen onto you. His hair was wet with sweat, messy and untamed, and the room smelled distinctly of sex. But more than that, it was unbearably silent.

Slowly, Bucky began to pry himself off of you, allowing his softened cock to slip from between your legs, slick and satisfied. He swallowed, a blush creeping onto his cheek as he pushed his hair behind his ear.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him quickly tug his pants back on before he bent down and picked up your suit for you, handing it gingerly to you upon the table with a shy sort of smile.

“Alright? I’m great.” You grinned over at him, glowing in the aftermath of your release. “You feel okay now?”

He nodded, a nervous smile tugging on his lips as he watched you jump down from the table and step into your suit. His eyes must have lingered on your thighs where his cum was still slick along the skin from his release because his smile began to fall, his jaw tightly clenched.

“SHEILD has me on birth control, Buck. Don’t worry about that,” you told him softly. You tugged the sleeves back up your arms, though it proved difficult with the lingering sweat on your skin. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned your back to him. “Do you mind?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling forward to zip up the back of your suit. He brushed a few stray strands of hair over your shoulder, the gentle sweep of cool metal a relief against the hot flush of your skin; impossibly tender for a man capable of the things he was.

“So,” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice as he grasped hold of the zipper, “should we talk about this or—”

“Bucky? Y/n? You guys read me?”

Steve.

“Seems the coms are back on,” you sighed, stepping to the side after Bucky finished zipping your suit. He was still holding his tactical vest in his hand, along with the one-armed jacket. His hair was untamed, cheeks flushed, and you imagined you looked of the same.

“We got you, Steve,” Bucky replied, though it seemed rather reluctant. “Where you been, man? You dropped us in a warzone.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Steve grumbled back. “Get to the jet. We’ll debrief on the way back. Don’t forget to rig the place to blow on your way out.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at Bucky as he slipped his jacket on. “Certainly, can’t forget the one thing you sent us here to do.”

“Unless you’ve got more Hydra agents hiding in the wings?” Bucky added on and you could practically see Steve deadpan from the cockpit.

“Just get out of there before I come get you myself.”

You laughed as you slid the batons back into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

It was strange, how quickly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was a quick release and you were simply helping a friend. Maybe it was something neither of you would speak of again and you’d go right back to being partners, friends, as if it never happened.

But as you turned around at the edge of the room, a smile wide upon your face, you found Bucky watching you with a kind of look in his eye you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t one you recognized, wasn’t one you’d seen in him before. It was something new.

His eyes flickered to your collarbone where a mark upon your skin was growing discolored; bite marks and bruising where his mouth had been. A strange mixture of remorse and longing, affection and need, all rolled into one.

“You ready, Buck?”

He nodded quickly, snapping himself from his gaze with a pressed smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he tried. He met you at the edge of the room, trailing a few steps behind you, and you turned around to find him staring back into the cell, like he was trying to preserve a memory of some kind.

You realized as you watched Bucky clear his throat awkwardly, turning back to you with a gentle blush of pink in his cheeks, that there was no pretending you hadn’t crossed a line together. There was no going back.

---

part 2

[yannadere]

daryl dixon, shane walsh and glenn rhee (separate) reacting to their s/o getting bit

cw: loss, depression, unhealthy coping, suicide, angst, hurt/comfort

Daryl Dixon:

you're scared to tell him

he's lost so much even before the apocalypse, you don't want to hurt him

trying to distance yourself from daryl doesn't work at all

he just gets worried, which comes across as him being angry, and he clings to you

poor bby has abandonment issues

it's a few days after you get bit when you finally tell him, you already feel your health deteriorating but you hold up for him

you tell him when he's getting ready to settle for the night

bc evenings with you are when he's the most calm

"hey, daryl?" you mumble, and he hums softly, eyes still closed. "hey, look at me. i have to tell you something." you sigh, nudging his arm with your uninjured hand. "what?" he groans, finally looking at you. "i.. my hand isn't just cut, daryl..." you sigh, unraveling the bandages. "what'dya mean?" daryl's brows furrow, eyes falling onto the bandages as they fall.

his blood goes cold, and he sits up suddenly and grabs your wrist to observe the nasty bite on the side of your hand, between your thumb and forefinger. "damn it, why didn't you tell me?!" he snaps, stopping to take a breath as you flinch back slightly. "c'mere..." he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "i'm so sorry..." you whisper clutching his shirt tightly. "sh, it's okay... i... when you go, i'll be here."

"daryl... you shouldn't have to do that..." you close your eyes, tears slowly falling. "nah. it's fine. i... i wanna do it. i don't trust anyone else to. not even you." he holds you tighter, kissing your neck gently.

"i'm so sorry, daryl... i was being stupid, i-" he silences you, moving away and pressing his forehead against yours. "don't blame yourself. i knew something like this would happen eventually... i put merle down, had a feeling either of us would go next." he gently cups your face with his hands, wiping your cheeks and nuzzling his nose against yours affectionately.

"i don't want to put you through this, daryl." you cry, going to leave when he pulls you back. "don't leave... please don't leave..." daryl begs, pulling you back to him and letting your body fall limp against his. you let out a small sob, wrapping your arms around his middle as your head rests on his shoulder, tears dampening his shirt.

"it'll be okay. i'll take care of it. for now, get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kisses your cheek, waiting for you to calm down. you sniffle, holding him tightly. "i'm so sorry..!" you repeat the words over and over, and he closes his eyes, trying not to cry himself.

"shh... please... don't be sorry." his voice wavers and he hates it. "just sleep, darlin'... i'm right here." you whimper before falling quiet, resting your hand on his jaw and nuzzling into his neck. "i love you, okay..? i didn't want it to be this way." you breathe out, letting him lean onto you slightly. "i know. i know. just sleep for me, darling." he sniffles, cradling you close as you fall asleep slowly, knowing it would be the last time.

you fall asleep in his arms, but he can't bring himself to harm you

so, he tells rick, who's also upset upon the news

however his best friend's distress makes it even worse

so, rick does it for him as the others try to comfort daryl

after your death, he becomes reckless and depressed, not eating or drinking at all and becoming skinny and malnourished

he shoots openly at walkers, and when his ammo's out he takes out his anger on other walkers in other ways

whether it's stabbing them, bludgeoning them, or just hitting their bodies after they fall.

rick decides to put him under close watch to ensure he doesn't harm himself

but daryl's rather experienced in sneaking out/away, and he visits your grave often

unfortunately one morning, rick finds him at your grave with a bullet in his head

he's buried next to you, as rick knows it's what daryl craved

to be with you again.

Shane Walsh:

you got bit on the way back from gathering medical supplies for carl

and with shane you knew there was no way he would take well at any time of the day

so you decide to rip the bandaid off and talk to him an hour after your own little grieving session.

you approach him when he's talking to the small group, asking him for a private talk, saying it's important

so, of course, he's worried, as are the group

you take him behind the barn and hug him

he's genuinely confused as to why you're acting like this

deadass asks you if you're expecting or smth

you hate to break his heart

"so why did you bring me back here?" shane asks, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. "shane... i'm sorry." you sigh, pulling the collar of your shirt to reveal the bloody bite on your shoulder.

he's speechless, blinking a few times before almost collapsing. you yelp, catching your boyfriend quickly, but fall under his weight. on the floor behind the barn, shane closes his eyes, crying as he holds you tight. "shane... don't cry. it's okay..." you try your best to smile, cupping his face and wiping his tears.

"this isn't okay..! baby, you're not okay!" he sobs, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer. "shane- baby, stop crying... it's okay." you sniffle, smiling through your own tears as you kiss his jaw lovingly

shane tries to gather himself, but his whole world feels like it's collapsing. "shh, shh... c'mon, let's get you some water." you grab his hands, trying to pull him up. slowly easing him onto his feet, you help shane back to the house. rick spots you two immediately, stumbling to help you both. "shane-?"

"rick..!" shane is clearly distraught, and his best friend latches onto him quickly to try and calm him down. "shshsh- hey, look at me." rick soothes, and you stand back slightly, trying to calm your nerves. "what happened?" rick demands, eyes steeling as he stares at you. "rick- it's not-" you try to explain what happened, when shane answers for you. "they got bit! my baby got bit..!" shane sobs, knees feeling weak as he almost collapses again.

rick processes the information, looking at you in shock. lori overhears, muttering a fast "oh my god..!" as she approaches the three of you. "how did this happen?!" rick asks, trying to support shane fully. "i was in a rush, i got grabbed and..." you trail off, moving over to comfort shane who can't calm down at all.

"he needs to sit down..." you say softly, glancing at hershel who was observing from his porch. "come, sit him down inside. i'll get him some water." hershel guides you and you help shane in with the aid of rick. flopping down onto a couch, shane can't seem to catch his breath, so you crouch in front of him to cup his face, whispering comforting words to him. "baby... i'm so sorry, it should of been me..!" shane cries, and you hush him quickly. "don't you dare say that, shane walsh." you scold, pulling him into a tight hug.

"never blame yourself for my death. i wouldn't rest easy if you did." you sigh, smoothing his hair and kissing his temple. rick stands anxiously nearby, and you sense his worry. "sit, rick. relax... i've got this." you nod at him, and he nods stiffly, taking a seat of his own when lori pipes up. "when do you think you'll turn?" she asks, and you freeze. "lori-!" "i'm just thinking ahead, rick!"

shane becomes more distraught by her words, clinging onto you tightly. "shh, it's okay... i'm here, bubs." you sigh, cradling him impossibly closer. "the hell's goin' on?" maggie asks, confused as ever. "not now, please..." rick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "right..." she mumbles, leaving as hershel comes back with some water. "here, drink some of this, son." he nods, giving the glass to you so shane could take it.

after taking a few sips, shane goes back to codding you, slowly winding down. "there you go, just breathe." you smile, kissing him gently. "i'm sorry i couldn't protect you..!" shane hiccups, nuzzling your neck. "shh. don't say that..!" you sigh, holding him tighter. your boyfriend whines softly, and rick closes his eyes with a pained sigh.

you last a few more days before turning, spending your time slowly becoming more sick with shane next to you all the while.

when you turn, shane is devastated, holding your head as you stare up at him with discoloured eyes

he ignores how you try to bite him after a few minutes of your brain losing all memory of him, and his tears drip down onto your face

rick walks in, and sighs. he knew it would happen eventually... everyone did.

shane holds you for a few minutes. you were slowly gaining strength but he was always stronger.

the room is silent except for you little noises, and shane finally accepts this fate when rick puts a hand on his shoulder.

"let me do it..." his best friend gruffly says, and shane shakes his head. "leave 'em be, rick... just for a little while longer..." shane begs, and rick sighs, looking away briefly.

"you know i can't do that. if you or anyone get bit-" "rick, i am asking you nicely. leave."

he spends a few days with you in walker form, and it scares everyone. lori tries to convince him that you're not there anymore, a hollow vessel of what you once were but he wont buy it.

he loves you too much to believe anything like that, or hurt you. to him, you're still his darling, his everything who held him when times got tough.

you scratch at his arms, not even breaking skin due to your blunt nails, and he doesn't mind.

finally, with a few kisses around your pale, sunken face, and a final kiss to your lips that he forced closed- shane raises his gun.

he hesitates, letting you get the jump on him, but he grabs your jaw before you can do anything

the sudden commotion makes rick fly in, only to see you lifeless once more in shane's arms.

Glenn Rhee:

unlike the other two, he watches you get bit.

he's completely distraught as the rest of the group fight off the walkers whilst he makes his way to you

he rams the zombie with all his strength, knocking it down before shooting it

you've collapsed, sat back against the car door as blood seeps from your cheek, whimpering in pain and holding the gash with your blood-soaked hands.

he's crying before he knows it, dropping down next to you and carefully covering your cheek with his shaky hands.

he tries to reassure you, and himself, that you'll be fine and won't get infected,

but the sad look in your eyes confirm that you're not making it to the date he wanted to take you on tomorrow

as you slowly bleed out, he tries to tell you stories, to keep himself calm as you slowly die.

"hey, remember when..?" you're not paying attention, just admiring him as you move your hands to cup his face.

"i love you.." you croak with a small smile, and he smiles sadly, sobbing all the while.

the others have to watch, all waiting for the inevitable

"please don't leave me... please, i need you." glenn pleads, and you smile sadly.

he's pressing kisses to your forehead as you hold him close, your blood staining his hands, arms and shirt

"baby...?" glenn mumbles softly, sitting with you leant against him. "i'm still here, darling..." you whisper, gripping his shirt tightly. "i'm gonna miss you..." glenn sniffles, kissing the top of your head gently. "me too. i'll always be with you, okay. when i go, i don't want you to be sad. i want you to keep going, to find happiness again, even if it means finding love in another. i want the best for you." you smile, despite the ache in your cheek.

glenn breathes out as his eyes close, his tears still falling. "i could never replace you like that..." he whimpers, fingers curling into your hair as he holds you closer. "baby, don't cry... don't cry, because i'll cry." you try to laugh, and glenn laughs too, gently rubbing your uninjured cheek.

"glenn, we've got to, y'know..." rosita sighs, but glenn shakes his head. "no! we don't kill the living..!" glenn protests, his hold turning protective. "right, right... okay." she fakes surrender, walking away.

when you pass, glenn just knows. he doesn't even look at you. he can't bring himself to.

however, when you turn, he doesn't even bother to restrain you, just holding you close as you bite into his neck.

abraham shouts in alarm, shooting you instantly, and glenn cries as you fall, cupping your face and leaning down to press his forehead against you.

the group is distraught, but glenn just lets everything happen, telling them to leave him be, move on.

abraham gives him a spare pistol, and glenn takes it with a nod.

the group leaves, and glenn knows what he has to do. so, he opens the car door, slipping you into the car easily

he gets in himself, closing the door so walkers wouldn't chew on you or him.

alas, glenn admires the gun before pressing it to his chin.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

[fckwritersblock]

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

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Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen