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hel1nn · 25 days ago

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And suddenly everything changed ೀ⋆｡

Ch.1 ⋆｡˚୨ the first time i met you ୧˚｡⋆ ch.2 ♡

𐔌 . ⋮ satoru gojo x fem zenin!reader .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ : Listen to kingston while reading ⭑.ᐟ

౨ৎ Summery : spending your whole life with feeling of being useless and a waste of space,even worse that your two sisters had cursed energy but you didn't, made you wanted to kill yourself so many times but it stopped when a marriage proposal was sented to gojo clan about marrying you or one of your two sisters. Your sisters were so powerful and beauty with brain so why did satoru gojo choosed you? Moodboard | series masterlist

Flashback

You looked around, everyone around you wore black clothes,a body was laying Infront of you, covered in a white blanket. Your mom. You already asked everyone why she wasn't moving,but everyone brushed you off or didn't even replied. Little did you know your life would be completely turn into some kind of hell. The more you grow up the more. At the age of 13 there were cut marks on your writs or arms or legs,all the sadness and anger you took out on yourself. Everything became even worse that you didn't have any cursed techniques or cursed energy but your sisters did. They stopped your study after first year of your highschool. They thought it wasn't important for an another shame of zenin clan. You felt like a dead body whis heart was still beating. Your mother was the only person who loved you and no one but she was taken away from you too. Useless child. Waste of space. You dont deserve to be a zenin. And more. Even your dad hated you too. When he got remarried you remember how your step mom used to beat the shit out of you because of little things. You were tired of everything

Your father had told you to meet him in his room. You thought he'd scold you again for something you did or he will give you a lecture about how shitty you are. Little Did you know it wasn't. You enter his room,taking a seat Infront of him across the coffee table. "What do you want" you spoke,you dad's face turned slightly disgusted "do you have any manners about how to talk to your own dad?" He grumbles but you kept quiet,but you had to speak. "Can we just talk about what's important.."

"we sent a marriage proposal to gojo clan"

Oh,you slightly tense up. "And?"

"don't you dare to act like a brat. I'll just go straight to the point. We sent a marriage proposal to gojo clan for you and your sisters. They just had to choose one of you." Your father had nothing more than disgust on his face.

He did all of this without a single opinion of yours,your throat ran dry.. you don't have to worry. No one would choose someone like you. That's what you thought.

"and they choosed you." Your father said.

"..."

"speak."

You felt words dry inside you.. how could they choose someone like you. Your no one. But they did.

"stop overreacting,we already had said yes. And the date is December 30. There will be a meeting tomorrow."

You got no choice anyway, getting married would be better than living in a clan of jerks.

"and who I'm going to marry?"

"tch.." you heard your father. This long and he didn't even bothered to tell you the name of the man your supposed to marry. "satoru gojo"

You tense up, panicked slightly

"w-what..?"

"yes,your going to marry satoru gojo. I don't know why did he picked you.."

You dad mumbles in annoyance. You have heard about gojo so much. That he's the strongest, he's got the looks of an angel, everyone likes him, he's this he's that and more,but you had never seen him,never bothered to. Because you used to think a person like him wouldn't even bothered to know who're you. You just gave a nod to your father, already leaving the room. You were somehow anxious scared. You lock yourself up in your room for the day.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Maids were busy to doll you up for satoru,you said nothing. Letting them have their way with you. He was strongest sorcerer of today and you.. you were just you. Barely Existing. One of the maid scolds you for moving while she was applying lipstick on you. You just gave a apologetic smile and nothing more. You sit still. After all of the makeup and clothes you were finally ready,to meet the man your supposed to marry. You were just looking at yourself in the mirror and the silence suddenly gets broke by your step mom

"can't believe he choosed you" you hear her mumble,you just look at her. A stoic face of yours.

"why are you getting annoyed? It's not like he'll choose a fatty like you" you spoke in annoyance, already leaving the room. You never acted like this but today your mood wasn't calm as always. Your step mother glares at you, shouting something you didn't bothered to hear. You enter the meeting room,your father and everyone was already there,your sisters. You older sister wasn't a big fan of yours and she didn't really cared about what you do but your younger sister was way more worse than a bitch. Always ruining your day before it could even start. You walk to the couch and sit down there,a coffee table and another sofa across you where gojo is supposed to sit. You wait and wait.

3h already has passed away and you were so done with this,maybe he won't come to meet you. Your no one to him anyway. Every elders in the room were annoyed now. Talking about how he wouldn't come to see an useless person like you,this marriage might be cancelled and more. Your insecurities grew even more. Another day another insecurity. You slump down slightly,head looking down at your lap. A frown on your face. Why do you always end up being a shame? You gulp,you eyes slightly getting blurry-

The door of the room slams open,a man with white hair comes in looking around. White bandage wrapped around his eyes, covering the blue ones you have heard of. Everyone was staring at him,your father perked up, already walking up to satoru "i hope you you didn't have any trouble coming here,take a seat across her plea-

"i don't listen to old farts and you should know that.." your father smile is tight lipped, eyebrows twitching. Satoru walks up to the couch and sits beside you,he was literally opposite of your expectations. Your eyes wide in surprise as you stare at him. You expected him to be like other but then well... he's the opposite.

Satorus head slightly tilted to the side as he observes you, scanning from head to toe. You gulp nervously. "Is that the girl i am going to marry" a cocky smile appears on his lips you look at him dumbfounded "y-yes" you mumble. He chuckles. Patting your head "you look like a statue..or a doll..maybee.." you frown slightly,he was way too much different..he goofy grin on his face. Your younger sister suddenly speaks, interrupting satoru

"you know mr gojo this is not really nice of you.. it'll be okay if you-"

"you look like brat" gojo cheekly laughs,a small one. Your sister's face scrunch in anger

"hey now your crossing the limits who do you-'

"oh nowadays kids are soo disrespectful awh" satoru sticks his tongue out, shrugging. You dumbly watch the drama as they continue to argue. Your step mom start to speak too

"you know your speaking too much with my daughter mr-"

"she's not your daughter and she's the one who started this" satoru shakes his head in disapproval. Before your mom could speak again you're father spoke up

"everyone you know we should give some time for y/n and gojo to have a conversation." You father forces a smile and drags your lil sister and step mom out of the room,you older sister following them with a ywan. In a minute the door was closed and you and satoru were left alone. You slump down with a sigh, feeling like you could breath then you remembered your not alone, straightening yourself as you flash him a small smile.

"tsk they're annoying" you just give him a small chuckle. Not knowing what to say

"why are you this quiet.." satoru trails off..you slightly tense up.

"actually.." sensing your discomfort he stopped you

"it's okay you don't have to tell..but.."

"but.." you stupidly continue with him and-

"why there's scars on your wrists" satoru asks. The smile falls off your face,you gulp..what were you going to answer?

"you did it don't you" he shakes his head with a bored pout.

"can we not.."

"okay i won't." Satoru laughed softly,brushing a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. Your face slightly heats up,you look away blushing. Satoru just stared at you. Looking at your eyes, noticing the long lashes. Trailing to your nose and then your lips,a slight pout on them. You noticed it, looking at him slightly confused "is something on my face.."

"no" satoru just laughed softly. You wanted to ask him why did he agreed to this marriage. Is there something special in you. And so many. You just nod. The conversation was flowing. Him asking you questions and you. Somehow you don't know you felt slightly open to him. He was being kind to you. Talking about his interest in Digimon,and movies how he loved to teach his students. And more..satoru said he loves sweets. Especially mochi and kikufuku. You told him about your small interests, staying up at night to watch the night sky, reading books , watching tv when no one was around. You loved watching cartoons. You were slightly shy about it but satorus interest grew more. From how he's called the strongest ay first made you think he'll be like one of the strict asses but he was still just a man. Oh. Hours goes by and satoru finally had to go. He left you for today but left a wramth inside your chest. The whole night you don't sleep. Instead you stared at the night sky thinking about satoru. The was just as bright as a moon. One in a million..

A/N ₊˚ʚ 🌱 : English isn't my first language sorry if i did any mistakes. + I tried my best and I'm not an professional writer:)

Taglist : @chilichopsticks @milolop @kuroosvow @bypanana @hoseokslefteyebrow @sorcerersseestars @ssetsuka @megumisthirdog @certainduckanchor and idk why i can't tag @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin :(

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avocado-writing · 9 months ago

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I love love love your bg3 writing so much. I'm so glad i found your blog.

if you're comfortable writing about marriage, could you write the companions (minus lae'zel) reactions to a githyanki Tav proposing? like, Tav has done research into material plane customs and what marriage entails and has decided they want that with their love.

thank you if you do!! ♡♡♡

Astarion

A little baffled when he sees you get down to one knee so sincerely, thinking you can’t possibly be about to propose. That’s not a thing githyanki do is it? Gods, he should have asked Lae’zel…

Eyes widen when you produce the ring. Dead heart skips.

Is utterly bowled over that this is happening. That anyone would think he was worth proposing to, especially wonderful you.

You start a spiel about why you think you’d be a spouse he should consider, usual githyanki directness, and he cuts you off - “you don’t need to convince me, my sweet. The answer is yes. It’s always yes.”

You slide a ring onto his finger and he watches the way it sparkles.

You must have saved up for ages. He never thought he’d be deserving of something like this, but is going to try and see himself through your eyes from now on.

Gale

As you drop to a knee, he’s sorting through every piece of information in his head that he knows about githyanki, because you can’t possibly be about to —

Just stares for a moment when you bring out a ring. He sees your brow furrow.

“you are displeased.” Him, quickly, “no, no! Far from it! I’m just… surprised.”

”why would you be surprised, Gale? You are the most treasured thing in my life, and I believe this is how people in Faerûn seal that bond.”

He’s reduced to speechlessness at your sincerity. All he can do is nod and put on the ring, allowing you to scoop him up in your arms and kiss him over and over ❤️

Karlach

The second you drop to a knee she says yes.

“Karlach I believe I am meant to ask the question first—” “sorry, I got overexcited! do it properly then.”

”… will you marry m—“ “YES”

She grabs you and pulls you into her embrace, holding you in a bridal carry and kissing you deeply.

“Would you like to see the ring?” “There’s a ring too?!”

She’s so happy, man. You’re certain you’ve never made a better decision in your life.

“I researched into what gem would be preferred in a ring, and measured your gloves to get the size correct.” “You did all this for me? 🥹” “Karlach, you are worth moving the stars for.”

She goes around the camp showing off her ring. She can’t stop smiling all day ❤️

Shadowheart

Raised eyebrows when you kneel.

“Hmm, I wasn’t aware that githyanki knew of marriage.” “I didn’t. I read up about it. But I suppose if you’re against it—“ “no no, I didnt say that…”

Smiles when you drop to a knee again, pretends to be coy in her answer, but she knows she’d never say anything but yes.

You lay there with her that evening as she discusses all of the intricacies of planning a wedding, her hand tangled in yours, going into great detail about what she wants. Her face hurts by the time she falls asleep because she’s been grinning all day.

Wyll

He is so utterly surprised when you propose — but not for any untoward reason.

“Wait right there!” his face is so excited when he runs back into his tent, and when he re-emerges he has a ring box in his hand too.

“oh… is it custom for us both to have a ring when proposing?” “No, my darling. It’s just fortuitous luck that I was going to propose to you, too.”

“I see. So is your answer yes, then?” “Of course my love. A thousand times.”

You smile widely, and the two of you exchange rings, before he reaches over and kisses you sweetly.

Halsin

Is happy, but also wants you to know you don’t have to do this. That proposal might be a custom of this plane but if you aren’t certain, it isn’t something you have to do.

“I want this, Halsin. I have done my research thoroughly. I can think of nothing more joyous than being married to you. I do not enter into the lightly, and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He smiles so widely it threatens to crack his face in two. Lifts you in his arms and gives you a passionate kiss, assuring you that he will make you happy for the rest of his days.

Can’t stop looking at the ring on his finger. He’s an old elf, but he’s never felt more treasured in his life.

Minthara

Smirks. She knew this was coming.

Doesn’t say much, but confirms “you made the right choice. Yes. I will marry you.”

She scrutinises the ring as you slide it on your finger, but seems content. She keeps glancing down to how it reflects the light.

Proves just how pleased she is later that night in bed 😏

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jjkamochoso · 7 months ago

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Snowball Fights and Sleepless Nights

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Fluff

Your snow day gets a surprise visit from Levi!

Warnings: cussing

A/n: I wrote a chapter in my Levi x reader series about the snow and it inspired me to write something else because it’s such a fun idea so please enjoy this one shot!!

When you opened your eyes, it was eerily quiet. Usually the castle had some sort of activity going on, whether it was people marching up and down the halls or soldiers yelling outside during training. You got out of bed but before you got dressed, something outside your window caught your eye. There were snowflakes falling everywhere, coating the castle and its grounds, leaving a beautiful white sheen everywhere you looked. You couldn’t wait to go outside and relish the quiet calm of a snow day. Tugging on your clothes, you raced out into the cold. The immediate blast of cool air on your exposed skin felt more refreshing than agonizing, though your tired bones could’ve used a day out of the elements. You and your squad had been training nonstop for the past week and you planned to rest today, your off day, but you couldn’t resist the weather’s allure. You peeked around to make sure no one was there. Seeing nobody, the coast was clear. You smiled a little at your luck before lying down, the plushness of snow comforting your body. You were high enough in rank, a lieutenant, that you needed to retain self respect and a sense of authority in all aspects of your life but you’d be damned if you couldn’t let loose a little to make a snow angel in these perfect conditions. You fanned out your arms and legs, scraping the snow away from your body to get the shape to look just right. As you moved your limbs around, you realized just how worn out your body really was. You stopped moving, your snow angel probably looking alright by now, and you closed your eyes. The sun was barely peeking through the dark clouds but it was enough to make you sigh dreamily, basking in the barely there rays of light. You definitely would’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for gentle hands and a scared voice pulling you from your relaxed state.

“L-lieutenant! Are you alright?”

You knew that to be Armin Arlert’s panicked voice. You opened your eyes to see you were surrounded by the group of teens who did everything together, faces all contorted in some sort of panic. Armin relinquished the grip he had on your shoulders, afraid of getting in trouble for putting his hands on a superior now that it was confirmed you weren’t hurt or dead.

“What are you guys talking about? I was making a snow angel,” you grumbled, feeling embarrassed that these soldiers, who were supposed to look up to you, were literally looking down at you. You stood up, swiping the leftover snow off your body.

“We saw you lay down and not get back up so we had to check if you were hurt,” confessed Sasha.

“Well, thanks for your concern, everyone. I appreciate it.” Before you could slink away and hope they never spoke of this situation, an idea came to mind. A silly idea, one that should probably never see the light of day, but these kids had been through so much and deserved to have some fun for once. “Have you guys ever been in a snowball fight?”

Those words were what led to the dire situation in front of you. Your snow fortress had been taking hits from all sides and you were running low on ammo (snowballs). You didn’t know how much time you had left before getting bulldozed with snowballs but you weren’t going down without a fight. Baring your teeth, you came out of your hiding spot, fully prepared for an onslaught. However, when you stood up, you saw the teens running around with each other, grins and laughs a plenty and you felt your heart warm. You were glad you suggested this, even if you did just get pelted in the face by Eren while you were lost in your thoughts. You hoped this feeling of peace could last forever.

“Oi! Brats! What the hell are you doing?”

Your captain’s voice rang through the now deathly quiet area. The kids immediately dropped the snow from their hands and saluted Levi, as did you.

“It’s a snowball fight, sir,” you spoke up, “I suggested it as a fun activity for a job well done these past few days. It’s also proving useful in promoting camaraderie amongst soldiers and tactical planning.”

Levi’s eyes bore into your own. “Tch. Cut the bullshit, Lieutenant. You’re all being too damn loud. Finish up quietly or you’ll be on stable duty for the foreseeable future.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yes, sir,” you replied, an unenthusiastic tone to your voice. You were lucky Levi considered you something of a friend or else you’d probably be in bigger trouble.

“Alright everyone, this is our final stand. Make it count,” you addressed the teens and they nodded in agreement. Snowballs were flying around you and you were losing sight of your opponents. You saw Conny show up to your right and you prepared the perfect snowball to take him down. As you let it slide from your hands, you realized you made a grave miscalculation. You felt the world slowing down around you and your life flashed before your eyes. You knew this was it, your life was about to end. When the snowball exploded on the back of the unsuspecting person, everyone froze up like they had been in the cold for too long. You had accidentally thrown the snowball at Captain Levi. He had stopped walking at the moment of impact and you almost fell to your knees to start your begging of not being sent to the cells for punishment.

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I-.” You were at a loss for words. Levi reached behind him, taking some of the snow off his cape and inspected it in his fingers. You held your breath when his gaze met your own. As he started walking toward you, you knew this was the end. The kids could barely watch, afraid of what was going to happen to their favorite lieutenant. When his hand landed on your shoulder, you heard Sasha let out a scared yelp. Your breath was almost becoming ragged. Was he going to hit you? Kick you? Berate you ‘til the sun went down-

“Heh.”

Your eyes went wide. Did he just… laugh? The slight upward curl of his lips meant it wasn’t a humorless laugh either. The teens didn’t know what to do. Their jaws hung open, ears not believing what they heard.

“Did you all see how Lieutenant Y/N threw the snowball? Judging by the impact I felt, they used their body weight, not just their arms, to throw it. This game would’ve been over a lot sooner if you all had done that as well.” He released his hand from your shoulder and went inside. You couldn’t process what just occurred. He praised you? He laughed?! Maybe he did like you more than he let on. Your ragtag group didn’t know what to do after that.

“I think I’m gonna go inside,” said Jean, and everyone agreed in unison, still unsure of what happened. They were glad they didn’t get in trouble but it would’ve made a lot more sense than whatever it was they witnessed. You felt that was the best thing to do as well, embracing the little warmth the stone castle held. You headed to the dining hall for a warm drink, the chill finally catching up to you. While you were there, you figured you should make Levi some tea as a sign of good faith. You had observed him making it enough to where you knew exactly how he liked it. You balanced both cups in your hands and made your way to his office, just in case he was there. You knocked on the door and found it empty, to which you weren’t surprised. You knew exactly where he would be as your steps brought you to your own office where you spotted him sitting at your table.

“Captain! I didn’t expect to find you here.”

That was kind of a lie. He spent most of his time there, actually. You didn’t know why he didn’t do much of his work in his own office, but you didn’t care. You liked his company and even though he didn’t talk too much, he was a nice companion to have to not feel so lonely. You didn’t want to scare him off or make him feel like a burden if you mentioned you knew he would be there.

“I like your office the best,” he muttered, gratefully taking the tea you offered him. He took a sip and didn’t have a look of disgust on his face so you took that as a sign you made it halfway correctly. You sat near him with your own warm cup, taking a sip of your drink and sighing.

“I’m sorry I started a snowball fight and then hit you with a snowball, especially in front of our soldiers. I really didn’t mean to,” you said. He was quiet for some time before speaking.

“It’s fine. Really. I don’t condone childish behavior but they were having fun for once.” He took another sip. “You’ve got a good arm. If you work on your aim I might even call you talented.”

You let out a soft chuckle at his teasing. A comfortable silence washed over the two of you as you sat side by side, watching the snow fall from your window.

“What was that thing you were doing this morning? When you laid in the snow,” Levi suddenly asked.

“Hm? Oh, I was making a snow angel. It’s not difficult but I can teach you sometime, if you want,” you told him. The captain didn’t say anything but the slight softening of his face meant he heard and appreciated your offer. When you both finished your drinks, Levi took the empty cups back to the dining hall while you finally got the rest you craved, feeling yourself drift off into sleep.

You eventually woke sometime during the night, the moon high in the otherwise dark sky. After your long nap you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep for a while so you resorted to quietly wandering the halls. Unsurprisingly, Hange’s office was lit up. They usually worked all hours of the day, never adhering to a normal timetable like the rest of the Scouts. You were interested to hear about the titan research they were working on so you knocked on the door, hoping they would hear you. You heard soft, calculated footsteps coming your way which was odd because Hange was known to be loud and clumsy. The door opened and you were greeted by the handsome face of your captain, not the bespectacled face of your closest friend.

“Oh! Levi! Sorry to bother you, I’m sure you’re working. Is Hange in there?”

“No. But you can come in anyway,” he said, letting you in and closing the door behind you. He sat down while you lingered at the bookshelf, pulling out whatever looked interesting. When you went to take a seat to start reading, you got a good long look at Levi’s face and he looked worse for wear.

“What?” he asked sharply, all too aware you were staring at him.

“Did I interrupt you sleeping? I can leave if I’m bothering you,” you sheepishly said.

He groaned lightly, pushing his hair out of his face. “No, that’s the problem. I’ve been trying to sleep but my shitty brain won’t let me.”

You had suggested another warm drink or just closing his eyes to rest, but he had tried both things and nothing helped to calm his thoughts. All of a sudden you came up with another bright idea.

“Okay, I have something that might help, but it requires going outside. Are you up for it?”

Levi looked at you quizzically, completely unsure what you were up to. Eventually he let out a resigned sigh. “What the hell. Let’s go.”

“Oi! What the hell?!”

Those were the words that left Levi’s mouth when you grabbed his arm and yanked him to the cold ground.

“We’re making snow angels,” you said, a big grin on your face.

“What we’re making are fools of ourselves,” he said while glaring at you.

“When I was out here earlier doing this, I was ready to pass out because it was so relaxing. It’ll be even more so with a view like this.” You pointed to the full moon. Levi rolled his eyes but he waited for further instruction.

“It’s easy. All you do is move your arms up and down and your legs in and out, like you’re doing jumping jacks. When you’re done, you should be slightly exhausted and out of breath from the cold. Then, you’ll feel completely at peace.”

Levi watched you first, then attempted on his own. He felt ridiculous, silly, and downright ashamed that he went along with your foolish plan. But then, miraculously, he started to feel something else. His eyes grazed over the trees, branches plump with snow. He took in the smells of the fresh winter air, his nostrils slightly stinging from the cold. He observed the moon in its fullest phase, admiring the craters and basking in its bright light. Finally, he turned his head and saw you. You had a lazy smile on your face as you made your snow angel and it looked like you didn’t have a care in the world. Levi knew that couldn’t be further from the truth, but he knew he was lucky to share in your joy, however brief it might be. All of these things combined led Levi into a state of bliss he didn’t know was possible. Sure, his ass was freezing from lying in the snow, but it added to the experience. Besides, you were right there next to him—what more could he ask for? For once in his life, he let his body go lax as he let the snow envelop him. Though Levi was always quiet, you hadn’t heard a sarcastic comment from him for a few minutes so you looked over to make sure he was still there. Lo and behold, your captain was in the same spot you left him, but he looked about 10 years younger. The moonlight highlighted his cheekbones and made the snowflakes in his jet black hair look like they were dancing. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell steadily, a sign that his breathing was controlled. Did you make the right decision bringing him out here? Was Levi actually… relaxed? You could’ve screamed for joy if it wasn’t the middle of the night. You noticed your outstretched hands were almost touching each other. What you wouldn’t give to hold his hand right now. Maybe you could brush pinkies to quell your yearning heart? You could totally play that off as an accident. You turned your eyes back to the sky and moved your hand over the slightest bit. No contact yet. A little further…

You were touching him.

Your pinkie barely rested against his own and you were bracing yourself for the time when Levi would pull away and you’d have to explain your actions. Luckily for you, that time never came. You were relieved, albeit confused that he didn’t yank his hand away from yours. He was probably asleep, that’s why. You turned to him for the umpteenth time that night and what you saw made your lungs lose air and your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing—Levi was smiling. Not a huge smile, by any means, but it was miles away from the frowns and grimaces he wore on the daily.

“Thank you for bringing me out here,” he practically whispered, steel blue eyes glistening.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you replied, equally as gentle. You didn’t know how it happened or who initiated it, but seconds later you felt your pinkies intertwine. In that moment, your feelings for each other became as crystal clear as the icicles on the castle.

#levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi ackerman

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odestasocean · 4 months ago

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may i present to you, a rant that no one asked for about the bond between annie cresta & mrs. everdeen:

so awhile ago i had sent in an ask to @the-sun-and-the-sea talking about the implied friendship that forms between annie & mrs. everdeen post-war. now that i'm no longer just a lurker on here, i wanted to delve into my thoughts on this friendship because it is one that is sooo interesting to me and one that is hardly brought up in the fandom !!

to start, mrs. everdeen is a character that i wholeheartedly believe does not get the recognition she deserves. i mean, she leaves nearly everything about the only life she had ever known to start a new life with the man she fell in love with and have two children with him only for him to die tragically, leaving her with these two young girls who need her more than anything, but her own mind becomes a prison, keeping her locked away from being the mother that katniss and prim need her to be??? or idk maybe i just have a knack for loving the grieving widowed characters in media for some reason. anyway, i digress. her story, in a way, goes hand in hand with annie's story.

now, as we know, suzanne collins' mind is an incredibly intricate and complex place so i don't think that her specifically choosing district four to be where mrs. everdeen ends up was a coincidence. which just alludes to the fact that she has now become this personified cautionary tale for annie. since she's a doctor and she's familiar with the victors by being an extension of katniss, i'm just going to assume that she was one of finnick's doctors when he was in and out of the hospital. and that she became annie's doctor after she was rescued from the capitol. i'm also just going to go ahead and assume that if this was the case, she would've remained as annie's doctor once she found out she was pregnant. this could very well be implied to have contributed to her moving to d4 and helping to build a hospital there.

annie's story is honestly just as equally familiar and unfamiliar to us as mrs. everdeen's is. we don't know how her and finnick's relationship began or what the details of her games are or what her personality was like before her games or how she grieved after finnick was gone. but with this implication of mrs. everdeen moving to annie's home district, i can only imagine that she offered a great deal of support to her. mrs. everdeen met this woman who had just endured something so insanely traumatic and was there to offer her help and witness her heal with the happiness of her new marriage, only for her to end up on the same exact path as she herself had been on for the past seven (??) years: a widowed mother with a mind who only ever seemed to experience grief.

we don't know anything about what the weeks and months were like for annie after finnick's death. but to me, it is perfectly rational to view this as a period of time where she was so shut down from wanting help from anyone and everyone and felt entirely unsure of how she was going to raise a child in this state of mind. and it wasn't until she started to talk with mrs. everdeen, who had been enduring her own grief of losing her youngest daughter, that she found someone who finally understood. someone who didn't make her feel like she was crazy for being unwilling to do anything but lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. someone who didn't view her as the Mad Girl who was now the Pregnant Mad Girl Whose Husband is Dead, but rather as an incredibly strong individual who had to fight against the enemy of her own head. someone who offered her a shoulder to cry on rather than a judgemental stare. no one could replace prim for mrs. everdeen and no one could replace annie's mother or mags in annie's case. but after all of the hardships that they had both faced up until that point, they had a shared understanding of how they could never truly move on from their grief. but they would continue on and live their lives to the best of their abilities for themselves, their children, and those they had lost.

alas, the similarities do not end there, my friends. katniss constantly talks about how much her father loved being out in nature so the wicked sense of irony of him dying so far away from that nature he loved so much is just heartbreaking. and who else do we know of that died in a place so far underground and so far away from the element of nature that he had been surrounded by his whole life?? bing, bing, bing, you guessed it! finnick odair! there's one line toward the beginning of hunger games that has always stood out to me: "it reminds me of the mines and my father, trapped, unable to reach sunlight, buried forever in darkness." replace mines with sewer and my father with finnick and boom, you've got the exact events of page 312 in mockingjay. and, of course, i can't forget the obvious-- an explosion was involved in both of their deaths. so this again just adds to my point earlier of how it feels a little too eerily similar that these four characters all share some level of commonalities for it to have been a coincidence.

anyway, not really sure what the point of me rambling about all of this was. i guess to see if anyone else has ever put that much thought into it?? or am i just looking way too far into something that's not as connected as i think it is?? idk, let me know your thoughts if you have anything to add because i could talk about this forever and ever and ever !!!

#i have put way too much thought into this i'm fully aware of that #but it is literally all i can think about whenever katniss talks about her mom #idk i just feel like these two would be widowed besties #and i just know finnick and mr. everdeen are best buds in the afterlife #annie cresta #mrs. everdeen #thg #headcanon #rant #thg headcanons #finnick odair #mr. everdeen

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gaytkachuk · 1 year ago

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the thing about mattdrai is leon is humble, but he knows he's good, so he can be cocky when he wants to be. but matthew is not 'humble', he's self depricating, and sometimes, especially on the ice, he uses cockiness as a defense against his own insecurities. and yeah, leon gets annoyed by that because, before he gets to know matthew, he thinks it's fucking annoying that he's so cocky.

in reality, matthew is over there, all false bravato, just praying that no one else notices that he doesn't belong, that he has never been good enough to be where he is. when he gets glimpses into matthew's imposter syndrome it's fucking eye opening. like matthew giving himself the 85 rating is not a silly little joke he genuinely fucking believes that's his nhl24 rating. and like i can imagine leon making that little joke "oh, i dunno probably 85, eh?" with a cheeky little grin. but that's not matthew. like sure! you can totally read it as him being humble but it's NOT it's him REALLY TRULY believing it. it's him playing a stanley cup game in a run he practically won for his team with a broken sternum bc he still had to prove himself (????) and the thing is like why else do you play a stanley cup game when you couldn't even get yourself dressed in the morning??? like he saw that as letting his team down and that's fucking DEVASTATING. and no one around him thought "oh! maybe just this once we should tell him 'matthew, you don't need to prove anything. you did fucking amazing. you got your team here, but you need to heal now though. you need to lay your ass back down and fucking HEAL because YOU are more important to us than a fucking TROPHY." AND YES i know he'd worked his LIFE for that moment but one has to wonder what that does to someone. to constantly chase that glory and to never feel good enough until then?? and THEN even when you reach the peak, you will feel like you still were not good enough, you didn't deserve it, you never will. and there is NOTHING you can do to fill the emptiness. not even the one thing you thought you needed most in the world. because. fuck. the thing you needed most is actually someone to give a shit. about YOU. not your perceived value on a team. not your accomplishments. but YOU. when you are laid up in bed, can't move, hurt. when you are waking up slow. when you aren't doing anything at all. when the mask is off and you're just breathing. that's what you need. and. fuck. leon can give that to him. because leon isn't thinking about those things. he's thinking about how matthew is brightest when he isn't performing. when he's there, curled up with a book in an oilers sweatshirt he'd never be caught dead in. when he's telling leon how much he loves him. when he lets himself breathe.

and that's the thing!! leon is so so good at motivating the people he loves to love themselves by just. believing in them? and i think that belief would change matthew's whole life. i think he'd start maybe believing it too. that maybe all the shit he's gotten from the people who he trusted the most was not fucking true. that maybe he is worth everything that leon is telling him he's worth. that he can. that he will. that he IS.

i think leon gets choked up when matthew says something good about himself. he'd never admit it, but he does. and i think to be loved by matthew would be the most overwhelming thing in the world, because it is utterly selfless. disregarding of anything. because that need of matthew's, that one to be loved with no conditions? it comes out subconciously in the other direction. it is unavoidable. it's fucking pure. and when he loves, he loves hard. leon almost doesn't know what to do with it, until he realizes it's a gift, and he will never ever deny it. in fact, he will work his entire life to carefully wrap his own love in gift paper, and give it to matthew at every possible moment.

send post.

#but i digress.#thats why mattdrai makes me insane because i know leon could be SO good for matthew he'd knock some fucking sense #(and self worth)#into him.#(and i think he'd punch keith in the meantime)#GOODBYE #mattdrai #this is after seeing the fucking 85 rating matthew gave himself on nhl 24 HES INSANE SOMEONE KISS HIM #matthew character study #leon character study

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uhdrienne · 5 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

09. push & pull

🌼warnings: pining, mentions of a bad past on Wonwoo's end

🌼 word count: ~1.6k

Wonwoo is apparently not as slick as he thinks, because Grandma Lee approaches him after a day spent fixing her door.

"You like the doctor, don't you?"

Wonwoo chokes on his pear-infused water. "Grandma, what are you talking about?"

Grandma fixes him with a stern look. "I'm old, squirt, not dead. You're not fooling anyone."

Wonwoo sighs. "We're friends, Grandma. Nothing more."

Grandma huffs. "You might be able to fool other people, but you can't fool me. I've watched you all your life. That car accident, I heard you brought her home after she got drunk. And the producer told me she brought you home when you were sick..."

"Friends do that for each other," Wonwoo insists.

Grandma shakes her head. "Most friends might have sent her to the hospital when she was hurt, yes, but no one would have run out of my house as quick as you did when Miss Delia called you. And you would have let Producer Park bring her home when he offered. And even though you two began on rocky terms, she's a lot better now, no?"

"It doesn't matter," Wonwoo mutters. "She likes the producer anyway."

Grandma Lee asks, "Really? Did she say so?"

"It's obvious!" Wonwoo responds. "She used to like him back in university, and he's paying lots of attention to her now, and..."

"He likes her, sure," Grandma Lee says, and Wonwoo looks on incredulously as she rolls her eyes. "But she might not like him now. People change and they grow up. Who knows, she might want and need someone different now."

Eventually, she says nothing and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me, Wonwoo."

Wonwoo pauses in his actions and looks at her.

"I'm old now. For me, living like this, with people I love around me -- when you get to my age, you'll know that's the biggest gift you could have."

Wonwoo swallows around the tightness in his throat. "I don't know about that."

Grandma Lee surveys him. "How so?"

Wonwoo shrugs. "I... I'm not at peace, Grandma. I'm not just worried that she'll pick the producer over me, I..."

She waits for him to collect his thoughts again.

"How can I... how can I love someone and be loved in return if I'm not settled in my own skin? You know about the nightmares, I..."

The old woman reaches for his hand. "Wonwoo."

He glances back up at her. "Everything was in the past. You have to understand that. You weren't to blame for everything turning out badly."

"But he was blameless, I can't stop thinking..." Wonwoo starts, but Grandma hushes him.

"Bad things happen to good people sometimes. And...sometimes that's not in your control. Because if you'd known, I trust you would have made sure it didn't happen."

Wonwoo sighs. "I can't afford to make mistakes when it comes to her, Grandma... I can't risk having her when I'm in this state... doesn't she...doesn't she deserve better than that? Than me?"

"That's not up to you to decide," She admonishes gently. "She can decide for herself what she wants and needs. Think about when you were sick. Did she take care of you well?"

Despite his slight agitation, he feels a small smile break onto his face. "She cooked me near-inedible porridge and made me sleep all awkward on my couch."

Grandma chuckles. "And if it were anyone else who did that?"

Wonwoo finally laughs at that, spirits lifting a little. "I'd have complained and torn them a new one."

"Did you know Chief Jeon was away from the town for a few years?" Delia asks you around a mouthful of rice.

"Mhmm," You ask, spooning some soup up. "I heard about that, but didn't ask the reason."

You're still slightly distracted remembering how you kissed him, trying not to flush every time you think about it. Luckily, Delia hasn't noticed, because you'd have a lot to explain if she did.

"He used to work in the city," Delia explains. "But then he came back a few years later, and he was so different! Seungkwan told me he wasn't doing great at all. Like, he'd avoid everyone and just work and go home."

That catches your attention. "Did they ever find out why?"

"Nope," Delia shrugs. "He only started opening up again after half a year, maybe, but he never told anyone what happened to make him so... downcast. Even Joshua and Seungkwan don't know."

"Huh." You mumble, now confused by the situation. With the personality he has, it's hard to imagine him otherwise.

Delia waves her spoon. "And they even--"

"Y/N! Delia!"

You twist in your seat to see Chanyeol, with his backpack slung over his shoulder, strolling into the restaurant with his signature easygoing grin.

"Hi, Chanyeol," Delia greets. "How's filming going?"

"Good, good," He enthuses. "Grandma's been a godsend, and this village must be magic because I've never seen my crew work this hard."

Delia chuckles. Her head turns a little as someone catches her attention, and her expression brightens as she waves and beckons the newcomer over. "Seungkwan, here!"

Seungkwan saunters over, carefully eyeing the proximity between Chanyeol and Delia as he takes a seat next to her, Wonwoo bringing up the rear.

"Hey guys," He says, taking hold of the menu and perusing it. "I'm starving."

"The dumplings are good," Delia says helpfully, pointing to the picture on the bottom. Seungkwan beams at her and nods. "I like them too. I'll get that. Wonwoo, what do you want?"

He shrugs, and you survey him a little. He looks... nervous, if that's a good way to put it. "I'm good with anything."

Seungkwan tuts. "I'll choose for him then. Umm..."

While Seungkwan ponders over Wonwoo's lunch, Chanyeol hums in approval at the dumplings. "Looks yummy."

"Yeah," You say over a mouthful. "Try one."

Before Chanyeol can get chopsticks and dig in, Wonwoo beats him to it. "Me first."

Chanyeol looks on incredulously, and you're just as nonplussed.

"That's it," Delia groans as you both slump on the couch after work. "My back is dying. It's dead. I can't do this anymore."

"Talk about it," You agree drowsily, trying to urge some life into your legs. "I need a holiday. Like, for the next three years."

Delia sits upright. "What about Seoul?"

"What about it?"

"We could take the weekend, go to Seoul, what do you think? Go to a spa, eat a buffet, have a mini vacation before next week starts?"

"I think..."

Her face falls.

"That's probably the best idea you've had all week."

She cheers. "Seoul it is!"

Friday comes slow, but it does nothing to dampen your mood. You pull out of the parking lot, Delia buckled in the passenger seat and already selecting a song from her phone.

"So I was thinking shopping and a spa session first, and then we can go get food and beer later on, and stay one night before we come back on Sunday," Delia enthuses, her babbling going a mile a minute.

"God, yes," You sigh. "I can't even count the knots in my back."

She grins. "That's my girl."

The lighthouse slowly disappears from view as the car rounds a corner.

Something isn't right.

Delia's in the fitting room, trying on a pretty summer dress she found in the department store. And you...

Well, you're looking at men's clothing. But it's not because you want to. Just...pure boredom. What would you do with men's shirts, anyway?

Yet, something stops you from not walking away from the suit section.

The swish of the curtain makes you startle.

What the hell am I doing?

You jerk your hand back from the navy blue button-up shirt and turn to face Delia, too busy spinning and oohing-aahing over the dress to notice your situation.

Oh, thank god.

"Ugh," Delia sighs over a forkful of lobster. "This is the life. You know, I thought I could never eat seafood again with the amount we've been eating back home."

You drink your wine. "The fish at home's so much better. Fresher."

Delia shrugs. "Either way, it's going into my stomach. My body can't tell the difference anyway."

You chuckle and take a bite of the cod on your plate.

"Isn't it nice to see the Han River again?" Delia adds, staring at the view outside the restaurant. "It's really been a while."

"Mmhmm," You mumble uncommittally. You're not even paying attention. As Delia gushes about the city lights and how nice it is to be on familiar ground again, you can't help but think about the fresh salty sea air, the lighthouse, and...Wonwoo....

Wonwoo sitting there, legs stretched out in that carefree way of his, arms behind his head. Laughing at something Joshua said, sighing in relief after his day of work, hair tousled by the night breeze.

"It's raining." Delia's voice interrupts the image. "Did you manage to park the car in the sheltered place?"

Rain. Wonwoo picked you up in the rain. When you were bleeding and needed help...he was there.

He was always there.

"I've gotta go."

"What?"

Oh fuck. Yeah, you need to go.

Wonwoo's not leaving your head. That damn town, everyone in it, most of all that brown-haired jack-of-all-trades, isn't leaving your head. Even something as simple as fish makes you remember him.

"Gotta go. I'll explain later."

"What--" Delia looks nonplussed for a second. Then her eyes widen. "Is this about--"

"Don't ask me now. Ask me later, but not if I'm crying my eyes out. See you later!"

"Oh, you little--" Delia breaks off and sighs. "Okay, but I'm asking you whether you're crying or not."

You smile at her, then grab your bag and hightail it out of the door.

Wonwoo. Wonwoo was all you needed right now.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼 pairing: wonwoo x reader fic (written, fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired)

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.09: push & pull

prev. masterlist. next.

🌼 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou @mingycr

writer's note: thank you for reading, and i'm sorry this chapter took WEEEKKKSSS to upload... school has been kicking my ass :/ it'll be cute from here on out ~~

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mychoombatheroomba · 10 months ago

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Proximity Alert

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 11

And into the minefield you go. Little do you know, Leon is fool enough to follow you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

Flustered or not, Leon was, as you came to find out, a damn good shot.

He would have had to have been, you supposed, to survive what he’d survived. Still, you found yourself very much impressed as the two of you spent your hour unloading magazine after magazine into the targets down range. You didn’t mind losing to him.

Not when three points was all it took for him to smile the way he did.

“If you can shoot like that now, just think of how good you’d be if you cut that hair so you could see,” you’d said, and you weren’t sure where the energy you had was coming from.

Maybe you said it for the same reason you'd called him pretty; it was true, yes, but you also wanted to get a rise out of him.

And a rise you got. “You must not hate my hair too much, if you think I’m pretty.”

Oh, he was getting better at countering your jabs. Knives and words. And just like when he managed to get a successful counter in while sparring, you watched his eyes go a little wide as he realized what he’d just said.

You were both flying by the seat of your pants, then.

“I won’t matter how pretty you are if someone can throw you around by your fringe,” you said, ignoring the way it felt like you were walking over the edge of a cliff. Ignoring the way your mouth curled without you meaning it to. “And if I remember right, I’ve done it before.”

“Guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then.” His own smile returned, and it lingered until the two of you said your goodbyes.

That smile made some stupid, sentimental part of you ache because it made him look young - young and proud and excited that he’d done well. For a moment, he looked like Raccoon City never happened. Like the two of you weren’t training to fight what spawned from mankind’s darkest ideas. For a moment, as Leon beamed at you, you could almost imagine that things were normal. Or, as normal as they ever had been for you.

You felt that way more and more when you were around Leon - strange, because if anyone should remind you of what waited for you out there in the real world, it should have been him. Instead, you found yourself smiling more when you were around him than you had in the last year. The smiling wasn’t the dangerous part, though.

Ever more, you were ignoring the warning bells in your mind in favor of holding his gaze for a second longer than you should have. Letting yourself study the strength of his jawline, the way the boyish fullness of his cheeks was sharpening into something harder. Or the way his arms were being cut by more and more defining lines. You let yourself say things you shouldn’t have because getting those little rises out of him made you feel . . .

It made you feel something other than the misery you’d been wallowing in for so long.

Something you almost felt you didn’t deserve.

That had been the silent war your thoughts had been waging, because it was stupid to get close. It was completely and utterly reckless.

And you thought of that smile as you went to bed that night, anyway, because it felt good to imagine something other than the snow and cold, and the dead eyes that waited for you in your dreams. Thinking of the warmth of his hand on top of yours, his smart mouth, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would redden when he was embarrassed felt like you’d found a place to rest your weary bones. Maybe you could afford a moment of weakness, every so often.

Thoughts were harmless without action to give them life. A gun with the safety on. You could think whatever you wanted.

So long as it stayed safe in your mind, where it belonged.

⧫⧫⧫

Pretty boy.

It really shouldn’t have taken up such a big space in his head, but Leon found himself thinking of those words as he lay in bed that night. It didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was a far better thing to remember when morning came than rotting flesh, or heavy footfalls at his back.

Or the feeling of someone’s hand slipping through his fingers.

He would much rather think of you and whether you were being serious or not.

That was the question he tried to puzzle out that day, well aware that he was putting too much thought into a single moment. A joke. Had to have been.

Still, he sure as hell wanted more, whatever it was.

So, when evening came and he met you in the training yard, he did so with a mission he had no notion of how to carry out. You were already there, as always, the sunset casting you in honey gold. You tossed him a knife. “As promised,” you said as Leon caught it.

“So, what do I get if I win this time?” he asked, flipping the blade back and forth, just as you so often did. It was becoming more and more natural to him, now.

Still, if it was natural for him, it was second nature for you.

“I wouldn’t worry about something that’s not going to happen,” you shrugged, a glint in your eyes. You’d always seemed sure of yourself, but with the passing of the last few weeks, he’d come to see a different side of that confidence. One that wasn’t afraid to dish out a bit of trash talk. An Army brat, through and through. Leon didn’t mind it, so long as he could give as good as he got.

He rushed forward, knife aimed at your chest. You moved just as fast as Leon knew you could, bringing your hand up to smack the blade away. A few weeks ago, you would have blocked him, but Leon had gotten faster since you began teaching him.

More than that, he’d gotten wise to a few tricks.

He tried not to be too proud that he was nearly fast enough to pull the feint off. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, after all. Still, as he changed his weapon’s course at the last minute and felt the blade catch your shirt, if not your skin. You felt it too, he could see it on your face as you leapt backwards to safety. “Don’t be so sure,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “I learned from the best.” Flattery had worked the night before. Maybe-

“I’ll tell Krauser you said so.”

“Not what I-”

“I know what you meant,” you nodded, eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “Now, come on.”

You were all business when the knives were in play. He knew that. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get tired of watching you fight. Even if he was the one on the business end of your knife.

You were a viper. When you reared up to strike, one couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed as adrenaline filled them. Fear and bewilderment in equal measure. And when you moved, god help anyone within reach. You were too fast for him several times that night, as you always were. Too fast and too dangerously beautiful-

Focus.

The difference lately was that Leon was beginning to move the same way. Those patterns that he’d been watching for from you, he’d finally begun to learn. You favored protecting your torso over your legs. You liked feints. Wrist locks and knocking him off his feet. Controlling his arm. All favorites that he learned to watch out for. It let him stay “alive” longer and longer. All secrets that helped him avoid a disarm, or a takedown. He was learning more than how to fight, he was learning you. For every disarm or takedown, he gave you a scrape or a bruise. You were showing him how to bridge the gap between the two of you.

That was why he thought he had you when you bent his arm up after a jab at his side, the strain of it edging just short of real pain.

Your hands were both occupied. His left wasn’t.

He kicked towards your leg, and you shifted a bit to avoid it.

His wrist being free was just enough mobility for him to toss the knife up. His left hand caught it, and again he just nearly missed the swipe he took at your head. You ducked under the swing in a blur of motion, and he followed through. You caught the attack, and again your hands were moving to control. Just as he knew you would.

Shoulder protesting a bit at the speed with which he moved, Leon wove his arm under your own. You blocked the first strike. Just barely the second.

Your bodies were pressed together, your hands just barely stopping him from checkmate. With steel just an inch from your throat, your lips parted as you looked up at him, first in surprise and then in struggle. Victory was there, within reach. So close Leon could reach out and grab it. Get drunk off of it.

Drunk off of the idea of winning and drunk off the way you felt against him.

Then he felt something else. The weaving of fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Gentle for only a millisecond. The sort of sensation that made it feel like someone had hooked him to a high-voltage battery. That gentleness died before it even drew its first breath as he remembered the warning you’d given him the day before.

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it to win, and maybe to prove a point. What you could never have predicted was that bragging rights were absolutely nothing next to the real prize. That being the sound that Leon Kennedy made that evening in the training yard when you pulled his head back by his hair.

You’d heard his pained groans a hundred times now. This one, though . . . it was different. Throaty and strained, and downright sinful. No human being had a right to make that noise. Not in a situation like this.

If that was the sound he made when he was in pain . . .

What were you doing?

Both of you froze as soon as you realized what had happened, staring at each other from a distance that seemed too far and too close all at once. His eyes were dark, even with how wide they were. His breathing shallow. His body tense. His lips parted. His throat was exposed, the knife in his hand still pressed against it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thick.

It was then that you realized just how far into that minefield you’d wandered.

And the way he was looking at you, those shadowed blue eyes searching your own, only made it worse.

What the fuck were you doing?

“Told you about the hair,” you said, not of your own volition. Something cruel had a hold of you. Cruel and wild and full of a fire that burned you from the inside out. A year’s worth of pushing want down in favor of need was all threatening to split you open, now.

You were stronger than your impulses, though. Or more cowardly than you’d like to admit.

Whatever the case, you let go of Leon’s hair and stepped away because you knew if you didn’t, it would mean the beginning of something you couldn’t allow into reality. You just hoped that you had bailed out early enough, because as you moved away from him, that tension in the air remained.

“You okay?” you asked after a moment of silence, because you genuinely didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, and even if he was lying, you weren’t going to call him on it. Not right now. “Yeah. Just . . . point taken about the hair.”

“Hmm,” you nodded back.

Another beat of oppressive stillness, and you could only do your best to tread water through it. That, and try not to linger on the way Leon’s lips had looked only seconds ago. It was just a moment, and it passed. The safety was still on.

“So, are you going to cut it?” you finally asked, pointing to his hair.

Leon had looked lost up until that moment. Even as you spoke, it took him a second to register what you’d said. He looked at you for the first time since you’d let him go - just a glance, but one that let you know that you’d kicked up a storm in his mind. He breathed a single dry laugh and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

⧫⧫⧫

He couldn’t sleep. And not entirely for the usual reasons.

No, that night, Leon was kept awake by the memory of your hand in his hair and the sharp pain of you pulling on it. That, and the warmth of you being so close to him. The way your eyes had been so bright with an emotion he’d never seen in you before, one that burned low and true like embers.

He replayed the moment in his mind, out of embarrassment, true, but also to chase the phantom of what he’d felt. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you in the dark - his thoughts had drifted to you more and more lately. That night, though, he wasn’t just thinking about you. He was imagining you. He imagined what you might feel like in his arms, what the skin beneath your shirt might feel like against his fingertips.

He imagined what it might be like to feel the kiss of your lips instead of your steel.

And as he imagined, he fought back the guilt that wrapped its cold hands around his throat. Who the guilt was owed to . . . that was becoming a more difficult thing to know.

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Chapter Index

A/N: This chapter brought to you by the sounds Leon makes when he's injured. Also shot myself in the foot putting a Leon pic in every chapter . . . gonna need more than 40 of these mfs 😂

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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whumpy-wyrms · 9 months ago

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The Last Lab Rat #14: Time Flies

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content: lab whump, captivity, sleep deprivation, escape, derealization, gore, gruesome murder, death, needles, mind control, defiant winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

YAY!! YIPPEEEE!!!!!!! 😈😈😈😈

—

Tonight was the night, Dew decided. Tonight was the night he’d finally escape.

Earlier that day, he and Sasha silently communicated that they were ready. All Dew had to do now was wait until the snake slithered through the vents and into his room once Anton had gone to sleep. And then… Escape. Their plan was flawless: Crawl through the tight, dark and claustrophobic air ducts, as quiet and quickly as possible, all the way up to the surface.

All he had to do was exit the vents into Anton’s cabin, a place he was only somewhat familiar with, and steal that mind-controlling device from the scientist, then make his way outside as quiet as he’d ever have to be. All he had to do was not be seen, or heard, or caught, or hurt. All Dew had to do was escape, and then he would be free.

Dew had the relatively legible map of the air ducts memorized by now, but Sasha knew it best, so they would lead the way. Dew wasn’t going to bring anything with him. As much as he loved his music, and his sketchbook, and his ghost light, and his… chicken, it was all too much of a liability. All Dew would have with him were his glasses, clothes on his back, and his wings that made the whole escape possible.

He didn’t care if Anton found his plans in that notepad; he’d be long gone by then. He didn’t care that, technically, he’d have no evidence of ever being friends with Sasha, except the memories to hold on tightly to. Dew wished he could bring his sketchbook, wished that it wouldn’t be doomed to be buried deep underneath the ground in the lab forever. Dew’s art was a part of him, does that mean a part of him would always be stuck down there too?

…Dew supposed that whether or not he brought his sketchbook with him, it was true. A part of Dew would always be stuck in that lab. But the rest of him deserved to be free. He wouldn’t let himself be stuck in the past and let the scientist continue to ruin his life.

So that night, after Dew had fallen asleep on the couch and was carried back to his room by Anton after a surprisingly fun birthday party, Dew woke up. He lay awake waiting for Sasha to show up. And as it turned out, they slithered through the vents a lot faster than Dew thought.

“Ssspp!” Sasha hissed, getting Dew’s attention from the vents. “This is it, Dew! Are you ready?!”

“Yeah,” Dew whispered, more determined than he’d ever been. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet! Anton’s sound asleep, so this should be easy!”

“Sasha,” Dew whispered, voice shaking. “You really sure this will work?”

“Of course it will!” Sasha unlatched the vents with their tail, and peaked their head through. “Now hurry up, the sky is waiting for you!”

“O-okay! Let’s do this!” Dew took one last drink of water from the sink, and looked around the room he’d spent the last few months trapped in. He glanced out the window to the dark and empty lab and shuddered. He wouldn’t miss this place. Dew flew upwards, through the vent and into the air ducts.

The journey to the surface was simple and familiar; it was what Dew and Sasha had been practicing for the past few weeks now. They knew all the twists and turns and dead ends and drops and exits. They knew the way out, so they made no detours. They kept going.

Dew ignored that feeling of dread deep in the pit of his stomach, like something bad was going to happen, because it didn’t matter. He couldn’t go back now, and he wasn’t going to.

Dew couldn’t wait to see his friends, especially after his birthday yesterday. They were all probably so worried for him, wondering where he was. But he’d surprise them tonight!

They made it to the exit after about an hour of crawling through the cold metal tunnels. Dew never knew how claustrophobic he could be, especially with the hope that he’d soon stretch his wings and fly through the sky.

Sasha opened the latch with their tail and slithered through, letting Dew into the living room of Anton’s cabin. They were both silent, as if they rehearsed this situation countless times in their minds, and knew that any sort of talking would only reveal themselves. But that was okay, because Dew knew exactly what he had to do next.

And he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

Dew tiptoed to Anton’s room, taking anxious glances at Sasha on his shoulders every few seconds. He passed a few large windows, but held back from hopping out just yet. He didn’t want this to end exactly how it did last time. Sasha told him Anton was not a light sleeper, and that if they both kept quiet, this would be easy. Just in and out, quick and easy, no need to get worked up about it.

Dew twisted the doorknob, and pushed the door open with a creak. He winced, but peaked his head into the scientist’s bedroom. It was too dark to notice anything; the blinds of the window were closed, letting in very little moonlight.

Sasha slithered down Dew’s body and onto the floor, quietly moving across the light green rug and climbing onto Anton’s nightstand. They gestured with their tail to what drawer the scientist kept the mind-control contraption in.

Dew nodded and started tiptoeing closer, as quietly as he could. Dew could tell the carpet was soft, softer than anything he’d touched recently. The thought made him want to snuggle up under the covers, safe and warm with no fear of being caught. But instead, he was walking across his captor’s room— while the man slept just a few feet away from him— planning to take back what was his.

Dew arrived at Sasha, who had opened the drawer that held the device. Dew swallowed thickly, glancing at the scientist sleeping next to them. Anton was facing away, curled up in a ball under the covers. The blankets shifted up and down as he breathed, blissfully unaware of what was happening next to him.

Dew reached his hand into the drawer and pulled out the device. With a click of a button, the chip in Dew’s brain would be activated, allowing Anton to control his every action with a small murmur of a command.

He held it in his hands, close to his chest as if any wrong move would activate it and wake up the scientist, leaving Dew frozen in place, caught red handed, in Anton’s own room.

Sasha saw the fearful look in Dew’s eyes and slithered up his arm and onto his shoulders, beckoning him to get the hell out of there. Dew turned around and began to tiptoe across the floor, too afraid to look back.

There was a shift, a sound of something moving behind him, and Dew all but had a heart attack. Stomach dropping, assuming he was done for, Dew peaked over his shoulder.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Anton had only rolled over in his sleep. Still, it was enough to make him book it out of there. He shut Anton’s door and raced to the front door, flinging it open and stepping outside.

“We-we did it,” Dew cried happily. “We did it!”

“Not yet, destroy the thing now!” Sasha hissed.

“Right.” Dew held the device tightly in his hand, raised his arm, and smashed it into the ground. Pieces of metal and wire exploded beneath him in every direction. It was completely destroyed. Just like that, Anton couldn’t mind-control him anymore.

Dew smiled, and looked up at the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and Dew didn’t remember the last time he saw so many stars. He giggled, looked back down and kicked pieces of the device across the grass. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh autumn air and stomped on the pieces, jumping up and down, laughing happily. He missed the sound of the fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet, and kicked them in the air like confetti. It was the middle of the night; the moon was full and bright, allowing Dew to see everything in the darkness. Dew loved full moons. It was beautiful.

Once he was calmed down, he turned to Sasha, who was coiled around the porch railing. “I can’t believe I really did it,” He said, smiling and sniffling.

“Please, Dew, fly away! Be free!” Sasha exclaimed happily.

“I… I will.” Dew took a glance at the sky, and looked back at Sasha. “I-I’m gonna miss you so much. Th-thank you. Thank you Sasha.”

Sasha giggled. “You’re welco—”

The front door suddenly slammed open. Anton stepped out, hair disheveled. He raised a tranquilizer gun.

Dew jumped, his wings taking full control. Sasha sprang towards the scientist, coiling their body around Anton’s face and briefly blinding him. Dew’s wings flapped rapidly through the air, mimicking his terrified, racing heart. Sasha grabbed Anton’s gun with their tail, flinging it away into the grass. Anton took a few steps forward. Dew was flying. Sasha coiled around Anton’s head, muffling his calls before he could yell out.

“Fly Dew!” Sasha cheered, ignoring Anton’s attempts to pry them off his face. “Fly!”

Dew blinked his tears away, and darted off into the sky.

. . .

Dew never looked back, scared that if he did, he’d wake up, and all of this would turn out to be a dream.

But it really was real this time, wasn’t it? Dew was flying. Dew was finally, finally free.

He cried for what felt like forever, fueled by adrenaline as his wings did all the work on spreading as much distance from him and the lab as possible. It was the fastest he’d ever flown before, and the highest. After an hour, he flew higher, away from the trees and into the clouds. The further he flew, the more clouds there were and the darker it got. Was it going to rain? Dew was giddy at the thought. Flying in the rain. How much fun would that be?

Dew soared through the forest, doing loop-de-loops in the sky. He loved the feeling of wind in his hair and space all around him. There was a flock of nighthawks, and Dew flew with them. He giggled as the birds squawked at him, as if he was one of their own.

Anyone walking through the forest would have heard loud laughter from above them, cries of happiness through the trees. Dew was celebrating his freedom with his fellow winged friends, and he couldn’t be happier.

Dew never got tired, and he never stopped. He wanted to look at the sky, at the bright full moon, but there were clouds. So he flew above the clouds, higher than he ever had, until he couldn’t see the ground. Dew looked around himself and was surrounded by complete nothingness; a vast abyss; a void. He was completely alone up there. It was only him, the beautiful moon, and the infinite stars above him to keep him company. It was the most at peace he’d ever felt with the universe. Up here, he was truly free.

Dew fell down into the clouds again, getting misted by the water droplets inside, and fell towards the trees. Catching himself at the split second, Dew did it again. And again. He was ecstatic! He was flying! This was the best day of his life!

As he soared through the sky and took in the amazing sights of everything he’s always wanted to see, always wanted to experience, Dew realized he was getting thirsty. He was still in the woods, so there was surely to be a river down there he could drink from.

Dew dropped down to the ground and landed gracefully into the dead autumn leaves. The second his legs touched the ground, he stumbled, grabbing a tree to balance him.

Oh. He was tired. As the adrenaline of escaping started to wear off, the events of the night started to catch up to him. Dew was tired, hungry, and his entire body was sore after flying that much. His wings were burning, begging to rest. His entire body was begging to rest after barely getting a few hours of sleep the past few days.

Dew walked through the forest, listening to the sounds of the wilderness. He missed the summer, having gotten it cut short. But fall was his favorite season. And hey, at least he’d be home for Halloween! Maybe he’d even get a costume in time.

He heard rushing water, and knelt down next to the creek. Dew cupped his hands and lapped up as much cool water as he could, then stood up.

Even though he had never been anywhere near this place before, he turned to a direction and started walking. And after a little while of gaining his energy back, he flew.

. . .

After what felt like forever, Dew had spotted civilization. He realized very quickly that there was a problem.

He couldn’t let himself be seen. Not by anyone. Not yet.

He’d been missing for months and would suddenly return with giant wings. No matter what sort of attention he’d get, none of it would be in his favor. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that scientists all over the world would kill for a chance to study his wings. There’d be no point in escaping just to be sucked back into another hell. Dew kept close to the clouds, hoping that if anybody looked up, they’d think he was just another bird.

Dew couldn’t believe how amazing flying felt, he almost didn’t want to stop. In the back of his mind, he’d thought about eventually having to convince his friends to move out to the countryside with him, so that way he could fly all the time without being seen. He was giddy at the thought that maybe, he’d eventually find a way to bring his friends into the sky with him.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t even know where he was, after all. But he followed the birds, and continued on his journey.

And then, high up in the night sky with the autumn air flowing through his wings, Dew spotted it: his house. His home. Where his friends would be waiting for him! Dew cried in joy as he soared downward, racing to the ground like a meteor, like a shooting star. Once he landed on trembling legs, he stumbled up to the front door.

Dew couldn’t believe it! He was out! He was back! He was home!

It had to be around 3 in the morning by now, so nobody was around to see him and his wings. Dew looked at the house; the place he’d been dreaming of coming back to for so long, and it didn’t feel real. Dew tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

Of course it was; his friends knew how to keep themselves safe, unlike him. If only he knew of the dangers of the night, maybe he never would have been kidnapped by the scientist. But it was no use contemplating the past. Dew instinctively checked his pockets; empty, of course. So he fished out the spare key from under the doormat, and unlocked the door. Dew didn’t bother knocking, or ringing the doorbell, or even announcing his return when he opened the door and peeked inside. He lived here too, after all.

Dew was still standing in the doorway. He took a deep breath, and then a careful step inside as if the floor would drop out and he’d fall into the vents back at the lab, as if he was still crawling through them like he’d been doing every night and all this was just his mind playing tricks on him.

But that didn’t happen, so he took another step. And then another. And then he whipped around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud noise it made, but quickly locking it closed. There! The scientist couldn’t get him in here! He was safe!

Dew laughed quietly, wiping the tears from his eyes. He was really home. He was home!

Dew wanted nothing more than to collapse in his warm bed and snuggle with his friends and pets in the comfort and safety of his home, because god, he was so fucking tired.

Dew took a few more steps though the house until he smelt something strange. Cake? He sniffed into the air. That was odd, but he ignored it. He walked down the hallway, not bothering to kick off his shoes he no longer had, so he didn’t notice his old pair lying next to his friends’. Dew entered the kitchen, and stopped in his tracks.

All around the room was a mess of colorful streamers and confetti. There were balloons littered around the floor and some floated to the ceiling. A half eaten birthday cake sat on the counter. Dew tripped on a piece of stray wrapping paper as he walked up to it. Written on the cake in light blue icing were the words, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY…” and he was sure there was supposed to be a name on the other side, but it had been eaten.

Right away, Dew realized there was something wrong. He expected to find his friends waiting for him, excited to finally see him after so long. He expected a reunion filled with tears of joy and happiness. But he instead got birthday party decorations, and his friends were nowhere in sight.

Dew walked further inside his house until he entered the living room. The TV was still on, playing episodes of his favorite show— the same one he had watched last night— but the volume was turned down so it could hardly be heard. Hanging on the walls was a sign that also said happy birthday, with balloons in the shape of a two and a three floating next to it.

Dew frowned, racking his brain on what all this could mean. Sure, his birthday was yesterday, but Dew had been gone— missing— for months. Surely his friends weren’t just celebrating his birthday without him. That wouldn’t make any sense. And why do all this when they could be looking for him? Why waste time with cake and… a pile of opened birthday presents… when he wasn’t there with them?

Dew’s mind raced. What the fuck was happening? Who was this all for? Why was his birthday celebrated without him? Who had opened his presents? Eaten his cake? Who did they sing to? Who made his wish?

His head pounded. He had been awake for… a very long time. Dew hadn’t gotten a full night's rest in who knows how long. Was he hallucinating? Had his sleep deprivation finally caught up to him?

Dew looked down, and his eyes widened. Sleeping on the couch, snuggled up close in a warm blanket and Sir Bonkles sleeping between them, were Dew’s best friends Hayden and Layla.

It was the first time Dew saw his friends in months, and all he wanted to do was hug them. But now, Hayden and Layla looked so peaceful sleeping there, he didn’t want to wake them up. So he didn’t. Dew was so tired now, maybe he should just ignore all of this. Maybe he should just go to sleep and pretend everything was back to normal. Besides, he didn’t feel like explaining how he got his giant wings right now. He’d rather sleep in his own bed, and rest now that he was home and safe.

Dew numbly walked to his bedroom and shut the door. Everything felt like a haze. He slid down the wall and curled up on his soft carpet. He couldn’t bring himself to cry, he just wanted to sleep.

Dew pulled himself from the floor and walked to his bunk bed. He climbed his ladder, and was just about to collapse into his soft bed when he froze— almost falling backwards onto the floor and needing to flap his wings to keep himself from losing balance.

“W-what?” He breathed. The blankets in front of him were clumped up as if there was a body underneath. As if he was sleeping there already. Dew raised his arm and poked at the lump, then shook it, then squeezed his hand and ripped the blanket from the sleeping form.

For a split second, Dew thought his friends had replaced him. Let a new friend move into their home and take his place, take his role and name and identity and birthday. But they would never do that. They loved Dew.

…But apparently not enough to tell apart the real one from the fake.

His sleep deprived brain must be making him hallucinate; that was the only explanation. Dew blinked a few times, wiped his eyes, and even pinched himself. He was still there. He wasn’t hallucinating, and this wasn’t a dream.

“Hey,” Dew said quietly, voice cracking. The body stirred, but didn’t wake up. “Hey!” He said, loud enough to wake himself up but quiet enough for his friends in the living room not to hear.

There was a sleepy murmur. The blankets shifted again as whoever was there rolled over and opened his eyes sleepily, just waking up from a peaceful slumber. And then he noticed Dew, and his entire body went rigid.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, both frozen in time taking in each other's identical features. The person in front of Dew had his same brown eyes, his same wavy brown hair, his same dark freckles, and the same look of pure terror and confusion on his face.

But there was something different. Dew looked at the man and saw himself, sure, but before. The person he saw was full of innocence and obliviousness. He did not know the horrors that Dew had faced during the last two and a half months. He did not know the pain and agony and fear Dew had to endure. He did not know the escape attempts and homesickness and how much he could possibly miss his friends. He did not know what Dew had fucking gone through.

“W-what? What the fuck? Who are you?” The fake Dew asked, sitting up and wincing as he hit his head on the ceiling. Dew was frozen, staring back in disbelief. His stare must’ve been intense, because it caused the person on his bed to back up into the corner, afraid. He was scared of Dew.

That’s right. Dew probably looked much different, didn’t he? Eyes tired and sunken from his lack of sleep, and face filled with months worth of constant fear and pain. The giant white wings protruding from his back, along with a strange blue sweater. His pants and socks were now muddy and torn from hours spent trekking through the forest.

Looking at the “Dew” on the bed was like looking into a mirror of the past. A past so far gone that Dew could hardly recognise himself. It was as if nothing had changed. As if nothing bad had ever happened to him. As if the past two and a half months were completely erased.

Dew caught himself staring— almost similar to how Anton always stared at him— because there was no fucking way any of this could be real.

“Who are you?” Dew asked brokenly.

“What? I– I’m Dew!” The man exclaimed, looking even more confused. “Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house? Why do you look like– like… What’s going on?”

Dew ignored his questions and hopped off the ladder onto the carpet, wanting to get some space to think. He looked around the room numbly, ignoring the other Dew who had started crawling closer to the edge of the bunk bed, watching his every move.

Laying on the floor was his old hoodie, the one he recognised instantly because of the patches that were sewn into the fabric. It was the hoodie he was wearing when he was taken to the lab, the hoodie that Anton had to “throw away” for an unknown reason and replace it with hospital gowns and blue sweaters.

Dew turned his gaze elsewhere in his bedroom. There were new polaroid photos hanging up on the walls, likely taken by Layla. Dew walked closer to inspect them, noticing that he, Layla and Hayden were all in them. But Dew never remembered getting those photos taken. And he knew for sure they had never gone to whatever amusement park they were at in those photos.

He looked so happy, they all looked so happy. There were no photos of just Layla and Hayden, it was all three. Even in some love boat ride, it was the three of them. Dew’s stomach turned.

Dew ignored the sound of movement from behind him, the sound of somebody slowly and carefully crawling out of the top bunk and down the ladder. He ignored the fearful and curious eyes staring directly at him, staring at his wings. He ignored the other man standing there silently, unmoving and afraid.

Sitting on the nightstand was Dew’s old headphones and MP3 player. He could tell because they still had old, faded minecraft stickers on them, unlike the ones Anton had given him. The only thing that was different— new— were the glasses sitting on the nightstand. Anton never had taken Dew’s glasses away.

There was a card on the nightstand as well; a birthday card. Dew reached for it, and looked inside.

“Hey!” The clone said, marching closer to him and snatching the card from Dew’s hands. “That’s– that’s mine…” His voice trailed off once Dew snapped his head in his direction, silenting him with his gaze.

“What does it say?” Dew demanded.

“It– It doesn’t matter! What even– can you just tell me what’s going on? Why are you here? Who are you?”

“I’m you!” Dew exclaimed. “Can’t you tell?! Can’t you fucking recognise me?! Or did Anton take away every sense of self when he made you?!”

“I– I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You’re– You’re a clone of me! Y-you have to be! Probably made by the scientist after he took me! This is my house! This is my room! These are my things! This is my fucking life! You can’t just– you can’t– just pretend to be me! Pretend to feel how I feel, and act how I act! You can’t!”

Dew exploded in pent up tears and rage. He felt like this must be a dream, because the other Dew looked so scared, and Dew only ever looked like that when Anton was around. But he wasn’t here, because Dew was home.

“Am I dead?” The impostor asked. “Are you an angel?”

“No,” Dew spat. “We’re– we’re not dead. Everything’s fine.”

Nothing about this situation was fine. Not only was Dew sleep deprived, tired, anxious, confused and afraid, but he was also standing face to face with some sort of clone that had taken his place.

It was silent for another moment, and then, “Are those wings real?” The clone asked.

Dew’s eyes shot up, glaring at him. “It doesn’t matter,” He gritted between his teeth. This person– this thing had no idea what Dew had been through; the pain getting those wings had caused him. And this man was staring in awe at something he would never begin to understand, as if Dew was just some animal to gawk at.

"Are you real?"

Dew wasn't the only one wondering that, then. “I’m not sure,” He said blankly. Because it was true. For all he knew, this could all be a dream— hell, it felt like that more than reality. Dew would be more surprised if this was real.

“Are you me? Like, like from the future or something? Really, what’s going on?”

The questions didn't cease, and when the clone reached out to touch Dew's wings, he finally snapped.

“NO!” Dew exclaimed, slapping the man’s hand away. “Don’t you fucking dare touch my wings! You don’t know anything! You don’t know what I had to go through to get here, to– to get here and find you in my place!

“You’re not me! You’re nothing like me! You’re just– just a lie! Just a fake! You’re– you’re not su-supposed to be here! You’re not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to- to be free and with m-my friends an-and—” Dew’s words trailed off into sobs.

“...Are you okay?” The clone asked softly. Dew looked up, not realizing he was sobbing uncontrollably until his wings wrapped around his body in a tight hug. He was asking him if he was okay. After everything, after stealing his life, his clone was asking him if he was okay.

Dew’s sobs came to a stop in disbelief. He looked up, and saw the clone standing there with a thoughtful expression, someone who was trying to be nice. Pity.

“Do you want a hug?” The other Dew asked, so so gently that Dew forgot about everything and decided that, yes, he did want a hug, a hug from anyone else that wasn’t the scientist. It had been so long since the last one.

Dew nodded, wiping his tears as best he could and opened his wings. The clone stepped closer tentatively, and wrapped his arms around the other. He squeezed him tight, and Dew hugged him back, his wings wrapping around them both in a comforting embrace. Dew sobbed into his own shoulder, hugged his own body, and felt his own heart beating in a chest that wasn’t his.

But this wasn’t real comfort. If this was real, Dew couldn’t go on like this anyway. The world wasn’t big enough for two Dews; his friends wouldn’t be able to adjust to being friends with two of the same person, much less while having to adjust to… everything that had happened to him. Like having wings, for starters.

And Dew couldn’t forget what this impostor did. He stole his friends, he stole his life. He was the reason nobody was looking for him, and probably never had been. He was the reason Dew was trapped in that hell for so long, filled with a false hope that eventually, somebody would find and rescue him! But because of this clone, nobody even knew Dew was gone in the first place.

Dew’s eyes opened and drifted to his nightstand. He reached towards the drawer, and opened it quietly. There sat a small pocket knife, one he had always kept for self defense, in case anyone ever broke into his room during the night.

He never thought he’d be using it against himself, as the person who had broken in. But he also never thought he’d be experimented on by a mad scientist for two and a half months straight, and yet here he was.

Dew didn’t hesitate. He stabbed the knife into his clone’s back, making him gasp out in pain and push his arms against Dew’s body. Dew tightened his grip around him, turning the hug that had just been something comforting into something that would lead to his demise.

“St-STOP!” The clone shrieked, and Dew twisted the knife deeper into his back. The clone hissed in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and flailing under his grip.

Dew pushed his clone to the ground and pounced on top of him, planting a hand over his mouth to muffle the screams. The clone let out more strangled grunts as Dew pulled the knife out from underneath him, causing blood to spray all over them both. He stabbed him again. Tears and blood painted both of their faces until they couldn't tell who was who or what was what anymore.

Dew dug the knife into his chest and stared into those identical, wide and scared brown eyes until the light behind them went out, and he was once again the only Dew left in the world.

Dew didn't realize he had killed the man until he found his room eerily silent. The body lay still on the floor, limbs sprawled out in what one can only imagine as a desperate but futile struggle to get away. Dew sat in shock on hands and knees over his own body, tears dripping onto his own face until his sleepless brain started to register what had just happened.

Dew stood up, rapidly trying to get away from the corpse when he forgot he was still holding the knife to his chest, pulling it out of the body as he stood. Blood sloshed out and around the corpse in a pool or red.

Dew dropped the knife to the ground in disgust and horror, terrified about what he had just done. The knife clattered to the floor, laying neatly in the bloodied carpet glistening in the moonlight that shone through the windows.

Dew collapsed to the floor in despair, curling into a ball and staring at his own corpse for what felt like forever. Time and space blended together in a haze and Dew clutched his pounding head in his hands, wishing for his suffering to finally end.

He killed him. He killed him. He never wanted to kill anyone! This wasn’t supposed to happen! He wasn’t a murderer!

Dew was so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t heard the footsteps making their way through the house and to his room.

“Well…” Dread panged in Dew’s chest when he heard a familiar voice coming from the doorway. “I see you’ve met the clone.”

Dew’s blood ran cold. There was nothing else he could do.

“Dewey, Dewey, Dewey…” A dark chuckle. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Dew tearfully looked up to see Anton, standing in his doorway.

“No,” Dew choked out, hyperventilating. “No, no no no no!” He backed up with frantic pleads, all in a hushed tone as to not wake his friends in the other room. “No, g-go away. Plea-please go away.”

Anton didn’t stop walking, and Dew was quickly backed into the wall. He pressed his back against it, ignoring his wings’ protests, just wishing he could disappear and never come back. His hysterical sobs didn’t cease, and Anton was now standing only inches away.

“L-l-leave me alone,” Dew cried between sobs. “Ge-get out, go aw-away. Please please just go away.” Dew saw Anton’s hand move from the corner of his eye, and he slid down the wall in defeat, expecting a needle to be drawn.

Instead, Anton knelt down and put his hands over Dew’s mouth, hushing his cries. Dew looked up in surprise, his wide eyes filled with fear and desperation, silently pleading up at the scientist.

“Shh,” Anton cooed. “Wouldn’t want to wake up your little friends.”

Dew blinked heavily, more tears falling down his cheeks and all over Anton’s hand, but he didn’t pull away.

“Nice room you got here.” Anton spoke quietly, almost gently, but there was a venom in his voice. He clicked his tongue. “Too bad everything’s covered in blood. Do you realize the mess you’ve made?”

Dew sobbed harder into Anton’s hand. He squeezed it tighter. “Be quiet, Dew.” Anton warned. “If your friends wake up, they won’t get out of this. Behave. You can do that, right?”

Dew squeezed his eyes shut, more tears falling, and nodded his head.

Dew felt more terrified than he had ever been in his life, which made his next moves strange. He slowly brought his hands up and put them on Anton’s wrist, slowly pulling the man’s hand down from over his mouth. Anton let him.

“P-please,” Dew whimpered. He spoke as quiet as he possibly could, leaving his voice as nothing but a small squeak. He was completely covered in blood, both his own, and the other’s. “Please, An-Anton. Please don’t hurt m-my friends, I’ll– I’ll do anything.”

Anton sighed. “What am I going to do with you? I won’t. Let's go back to the lab, I'll clean up your mess later.”

“...Back to the lab?” Dew whimpered.

“Yeah? Where else would we go?”

“I-I can’t go back there. Please.”

“You can. You will.”

Dew didn’t have the energy to argue with the scientist, and he didn’t know if he ever could again.

Anton patted his head. “Good,” He said, and smiled. Dew looked to the ground in utter defeat.

The scientist stood up and stretched. “Your sense of direction is astounding, I'm surprised you found your way back.”

Dew stood up on wobbly legs after him, sticking close to the wall. “...How- How'd you get here so fast?”

Anton shrugged, “Doesn’t matter.” He looked down at the dead body in curiosity and amazement. “Man, you really did a number on that guy, huh. Oh well. I can always make another one.” Anton chuckled.

“You cloned me.” Dew’s voice broke, face full of betrayal.

“I did tell you nobody would be looking for you, didn’t I? I know you have a lot of questions, and I don’t blame you. But I’ll answer them when we get back to the lab, alright?”

“...What are you gonna do to me?” Dew whimpered.

“What do you mean?”

“I– I escaped.”

“Ohh.” Anton sighed and ruffled his hair. “I knew about the vents, Dew. I know how hard you two worked on your little scheme, and I didn’t wanna ruin the excitement.”

“Y-you…” Dew felt sick to his stomach. “You knew?”

“Of course. I decided to play your little game. I wanted to see what would happen if I let you have some control.” Anton chuckled. “I didn’t think it’d be murder. I can’t say I’m not impressed. But you had to leave right after I threw you a whole birthday party? That hurts.”

Dew didn’t know if this could get any worse. His life was over, in more ways than one. Anton knew he was lying the whole time. There was absolutely nothing he could hide from him. There was no point in fighting anymore, Anton would always win. This was the worst day of his life.

“Like I said, I’ll answer your questions later. Let’s go.”

Dew tried to walk out his bedroom door, but just thinking about walking past his sleeping friends made him feel sick. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to gain his balance again. Anton noticed his struggles and walked up to him.

“You must be exhausted, huh? C’mere.” Dew didn’t resist as Anton picked him up into a bridal carry. The scientist walked out of Dew’s bloody bedroom and passed his friends on the couch. Dew sobbed louder when he caught sight of tranquilizer darts sticking out of their necks.

Oh. That’s why they didn’t wake up from all that screaming. Oh. Anton had been there the whole time.

“C’mon man,” Anton sighed. “I thought I told you to be quiet? Your friends are fine. I’ll get everything cleaned up before they wake up, promise.”

“Okay,” Dew squeaked. He hoped, with every ounce of hope he had left, that Anton was telling the truth.

Anton looked down at his test subject and tilted his head. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” Anton asked, though he already knew the answer. Dew nodded numbly. “...I can help you sleep. If you let me.”

Dew looked up. “Just– Just make it stop. Make everything stop.”

Anton nodded thoughtfully, pleased that his test subject was finally on the same page. “Sleep, Dewey,” Anton whispered into his ear, and continued walking.

And just like every other time Anton decided to control his mind, Dew started to succumb to sweet unconsciousness. His eyelids were growing heavy, and it was hard to keep his head up as he was carried out the front door. Dew’s frantic thoughts began to disperse, and his breathing grew slow and even; relaxed. His head lolled to the side, resting on Anton’s shoulder as he felt rain pouring down on them both. He looked to the sky, the stars, the moon, knowing he’d never see them again.

Dew could hardly keep his eyes open when Anton arrived at a car, which was parked on the street in front of his house. He couldn’t move his body when Anton laid him down on the backseat, and covered him with a blanket. The only noise he could hear was the rain pouring down as they drove into the night. And then, Dew finally fell asleep.

. . .

Sawyer had spent all night thinking about what Dew had told him earlier, at the surprise birthday party he and his friends had thrown for him. Sawyer missed him too, more than anything. Sure, Dew was happy now, with Hayden and Layla. He had confessed his year long crush on them only a few weeks ago at that amusement park they went to, and they took it as well as they possibly could. Dew was happy now, and he didn’t need Sawyer.

…But that didn’t mean Sawyer couldn’t still try. They were all polyamorous, surely they’d have room for one more, right?

Sawyer would tell Dew how much he means to him, like Dew had told him earlier. It would probably be awkward– because Sawyer was probably the most socially awkward person ever. But he couldn’t stand to hide his feelings any longer, even if it did ruin a lifelong friendship with his favorite person in the world. But knowing Dew, he’d never let that happen anyway! There was really nothing for Sawyer to worry about.

Sawyer ran through the streets back to Dew’s house, choosing to wait no more. If he wanted things to change, he would make them change himself.

Sawyer arrived at the front door, but hesitated when he heard talking coming from the other side. Sawyer wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but the voices sounded… off. He recognised Dew’s in an instant, of course, having spent his entire life listening to him talk about anything and everything. He knew Dew like the back of his hand, which made what he was hearing horrifying.

His friend sounded utterly terrified. He was crying– no, sobbing. Sawyer hadn’t heard Dew cry like that since his parents passed away years ago. Something terrible was happening and Sawyer was ready to break down the door just to comfort his best friend. But then he heard another voice, this one unfamiliar.

Sawyer put his ears to the door, trying to listen in. But the words were hushed and muffled. His heart sped up. What did this mean? What was going on in there? A very intense gut feeling stopped Sawyer from opening the door to find out. He backed away from the door when he heard the footsteps and voices getting closer. And when the doorknob started to twist open, Sawyer leaped into the bushes.

He cursed at himself. How anti-social could he be? To hide in the bushes at his friend’s house to avoid confronting him– while he was obviously going through something terrible, no less? Fuck, Sawyer wasn’t ready for any of this. It was best to just go back home.

He started crawling out of the bushes, heading towards the back of the house when he stopped in his tracks. He noticed the voices had stopped talking, but they were outside. Shit– did he get spotted? Sawyer cringed. How embarrassing…

Sawyer peaked over his shoulder and saw somebody facing away from him, walking towards the street. He crawled forward to get a closer look, stomach dropping in horror at what he saw.

It was Dew– it had to be! But he was drenched in blood and had two giant wings sticking out of his back. He was crying. But he looked so tired, resting his head against the shoulder of the person carrying him– someone Sawyer didn’t recognise.

Something was very, very wrong. Sawyer decided against confronting them, or going inside and making himself known to whoever else could be in there. He had to get out of there, or he felt like his blood would be added to the mix. Sawyer ran through the rain, back towards his home.

Sawyer and Dew had been best friends since childhood. Sawyer still remembered the day they met on the playground during recess. He couldn’t imagine a life without Dew. But now Dew was in trouble, and he was the only person who could save him. Sawyer knew something had been off with his friend the past few months, but he didn’t know what. Now, his suspicions were confirmed, and he was terrified.

The only thing Sawyer knew for sure, was that no matter what it took, he’d get his best friend back.

—

fun fact: this was one of the first Dew and Anton scenarios i ever came up with, way way back before they even had names! hahahaha! anyway i think this is like the best thing i’ve ever written i hope u all liked it hehehe :)

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl @catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj @anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @parasitebunny @bottlecapreader @thecareandkeepingofwhumpees @inkwell-and-dagger @vidawhump

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

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sweetienans · 6 months ago

Text

Lonesome || R. Cameron

Summary

"What are you going to do with all the money?" Rafe followed you to the store that he didn't even know it was there. Stores in the cut were a new world to him.

"What are you talking about? I don't have any money" You said grabbing some apples and peaches.

"I know you do, or you will do" He reached your lower back trying to gain your attention but you slapped his hands out of it.

"Don't touch me. Rafe I swear to god I don't know what are you talking about. Are you high or something?" You tried to look to his eyes to see if they were dilated but they were the normal blue and tinted green as always.

"I heard my dad talking with one of his lawyers yesterday" he looked straight to your eyes to try to see if you were lying to him. You weren't. "Your mother is dead, and she left you all of her wealth"

Nothing ever happened. No gold, no cross, no El Dorado. Everything followed the normal course. Except for you. Your mother died, not that you actually care. She never raised you. She never appeared until now when apparently she was rich and left you all of it. You didn't want to know anything about the money even though you needed it. And if it wasn't for Rafe, you wouldn't even check the numbers on your bank account. He has a plan, a plan that he would do anything to achieve even if he has to use you.

Pairing: Rafe cameron x reader.

Warnings: use/mention of alcohol, mention of drugs, smut eventually but will be labeled. Violence (jj's father) Ward is still a bad father. 18+ MDNI!

wc: idk

see Pt. 1

Pt.2

You paced through your room all night. Going back and forth with your phone in your hand. What would you do? That was a huge amount of money in your bank account but in a way it didn’t feel like it was yours. You would like to be in another situation where you were mourning your near passed mom but there you were, keeping something you deserved all your life but you were never given. It kinda sucked. And it sucked more than you had to know it because of Rafe.

You fell asleep near four in the morning and didn’t wake up until 1pm where you felt the door slightly slamming in the entry clicking shut right after.

“Hey sweetie” your dad peaked through your open door. His clothes were all muddy and had traces of dirt in his head. “I’m sorry I disappeared”

On a normal day you would scold him for not even calling but right now you had a turmoil in your stomach that you couldn’t bear.

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here” you said laying on your side. He nodded and then left you to yourself again, the sound of the shower being on sounded above your thoughts.

You were quickly to take your phone and start typing the news to JJ but when you were writing the text you started wondering, was it a good idea? Would you even keep the money? you deleted it and instead wrote a ‘hope you have a good day with John B’ message.

You scrolled through your socials, incapable of thinking in getting up when a text from Sarah popped up.

‘Kook party in the night, you coming?’ Meet me at Tannyhill so we can go together’

It wasn’t a lie that you were considered one of the good pogues, you were good friends with Sarah Cameron, Rafe’s sister and even his friends were good to you. You didn’t understand why but you were always invited and welcomed in their parties.

You thought about the party and decided that it was a good idea to show up, to clear your mind and do normal teenage stuff before having to worry about the elephant in the room. Telling your dad, telling your friends that in the span of night to morning you were practically a new Kook. It wasn’t your fault.

You went to the shower and dressed up to go with Sarah. She didn’t give you much information about the party so you decided to put on a yellow sundress that had the neck v-shaped and your white snickers. You put on some makeup, basically tons of blush, mascara and gloss and went to your dad’s room to tell him that you were going out.

He was face down in his mattress sleeping like he never slept in his life. You decided to leave a note that you knew he wouldn’t read.

You left your house closed and walked the rocky path to the main street that was basically a highway. Your car wasn’t functioning so you made all your trips walking, it was a long way to Tannyhill but you didn’t mind.

The gates of Tannyhill opened in front of your figure. The house was massive, it was the biggest house in figure eight all because of Ward’s effort. Something to look up to, to be honest.

“Girl! you look amazing” Sarah appeared hanging from the side of the porch’s door. “I just have to do my makeup and we can get going, did you walk all the way from your house to here?” she asked, giving you a side hug.

“Yeah, it’s part of my exercise routine,” you said sarcastically. “My car broke down again so the legs had to do the job”

“That’s awful, you want a glass of water?” She didn’t even wait for your answer to reach one of the glasses in the higher cabinet above the sink just to fill it with water.

“Thanks” you said following the blonde to her room. You’ve been up there many times. Sarah was your best friend, beside JJ, the boys and Kie, even though the latter didn’t understand why. “So, where’s this party? Topper 's again?”

“Oh no, after we left last week, some punks wrote shit on the living room walls, his mom got furious with him,” Sarah explained, putting some eyeliner in the corner of her eyes.

“Did they know who did it?”

“Mm no, I mean, there were only Topper’s friends” she just shrugged and turned around to face you. “What do you think?” She said giving you a full look of her outfit and makeup.

“What can I say of the Kook Princess?” you said, rolling your eyes. “You look gorgeous, Topper is going to die when he sees you”

She made a subtle grin but her eyes darted away like she was hiding something. You would ask, eventually.

When Sarah parked her car, you expected a good looking house, not a beach with a bonfire on it. You made a mental note to never forget your cardigan again.

“Pogue style?” You asked to make her shiver. She hated the tumultuous fight between pogues and kooks, and you could understand why, but most people couldn’t.

“Topper house is out of the party market, Kelce’s family from California is staying in his house for the weekend and well Tannyhill is just unapproachable when dad and Rose are there” She explained locking up the car and walking through the sand.

You walked to her side, waving some familiar faces together but keep walking until you made your way to Topper.

“Hey pretty ladies” he said in a smug tone kissing Sarah’s cheek. “I thought you wouldn't make it” he said fetching some red solo cups and filling them with beer (the expensive one)

The difference between pogue beach parties was clearly the cheap beer and that the cops would show up eventually in the night. This was a private beach and people could do what they pleased without having to worry about being incarcerated.

“Thanks” you said to Topper receiving the cup and downing half of it in one gulp. You needed it, you needed the fun and to keep things out of your mind for a while.

“Easy” Topper said in a surprised warning. “There’s plenty more”

“Leave her alone, I’m the one driving anyway” Sarah said pouring her beer in your glass.

The party went without any problems. People were dancing, some of them were making out and Sarah was nowhere to be seen. You were sitting in a big log beside the fire when a guy that you have never seen sat by your side.

“Hey” he said in a charming way. You cringed on the inside but nodded anyway to his side. “I’m new here, what’s your name?” He scooted over the log and pressed his thigh to yours, completely invading your personal space.

That must've been the worst way to flirt with anyone. You took a sip from your drink and cleared your voice to reject him in a nice way.

“I’m-

“Not interested”

You turned around to his voice. Rafe's tall figure lingered above yours stepping and blocking the light from the fire making him look terrifying.

“She’s definitely out of your reach so why don’t you go somewhere else” he said waving his hand to the guy and urging him to leave your side.

You had a new feeling in your stomach, like the beer was settling in wrong.

“I got it under control” you said watching him walk and take the seat of the guy. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, those that are white and had the sleeves in another color, this was green and his cap was backwards making him look more handsome than he already was.

“Yeah, I can tell” He said, taking your cup from your hands and gulping all the content down. “What about we talk business?

“Jesus” you muttered under your breath and prepared yourself to lift but before you could do the push he circulated his hand around your wrist. “What did I tell you yesterday? I’m not interested”

“I know you received the money” he said looking straight into your eyes, there was no way to deny it. He always had like a sixth sense. “And I also know that you don’t know what to do with it”

“Look, spending it on coke so you can double the amount it’s not a good idea to me to be honest” you said plainly.

“You are not giving me a chance” He said like he was hurt because of your words.

“I don’t even know you Rafe”

“You’ve been Sarah’s friend for a while, you know me enough”

“You just said it, Sarah’s friend, not yours” you specified.

“That hurt” he put one of his hands on his chest and you rolled your eyes. “I thought you had feelings but this..

“Please, cut the bullshit” You were done and ready to leave.

“Just invest with me and I promise you won't regret it” he said pleading, puppy eyes and all.

“Invest with you? or invest in you?” you crossed your arms. “Because for why I understand in the first you have to put money too”

“I’ll do it if that makes you feel safe” He answered like it was nothing.

“You are something else Rafe Cameron, but no, I won’t, I don’t trust you” you took your cup from his hands and left him all alone with the words between his lips. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Rafe Cameron was a man of his word and mind. If he had an idea (even a bad one) he would do anything to reach it and make it true. He needed the money to seal a deal with Barry and Ward got him on a leash lately, cutting him loose, so he had nothing, just the two dollars that you threw at him in the store the other day.

He was going to convince you but apparently not tonight, because even though you had been right, you weren’t even friends with him, telling him that you didn’t trust him broke something on the inside, so he drank, and drank and drank until he couldn’t even get on his feet.

“Have you seen Sarah?” you asked one of the girls that was dropped in her knees grabbing his friends hair so she can puke.

“No, go away!” she yelled at you and you thought that you deserved it, bad time to ask.

This wasn’t the first time that you’ve lost Sarah in a party, she would usually sneak around with Topper but she would always pick you up later. Right now, her car wasn’t in the spot she parked and there were no Topper or Sarah in sight.

You kept walking around the cars, looking for someone familiar to give you a ride but you didn’t know any of them. You were about to call JJ for backup knowing very well that he will get angry at you for coming to this party when you saw Rafe leaned against his car trying to get inside.

“You gotta be kidding me” you said, grabbing his shoulders to make his eyes snap open. “Have you lost your mind? you can’t drive this way”

His disoriented eyes, alcohol breath and languid body said that he was more than wasted. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open to look at you. You searched for his keys that were in his hand and snatched it.

“I’m going to drive okay?” you said wiggling the keys in front of his head. “I need you to lean on me so I can open the door and get you inside, Rafe”

“Am I dreaming?” he murmured in your shoulder while you put one of his arms behind your shoulders to keep him steady on his feet. “This is much more of what I asked”

“Tell me about it” you said, manhandling him towards the passenger seat. “How did you end up like this, honestly the booze wasn’t even that good” you talked more to yourself than to him, he was a pure excuse of a man in that state.

“My heart is broken” he said while looking at you with his eyes half opened while you stretched yourself to put his seatbelt on.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to know Rafe,” you said, closing his door and walking to the driver’s side.

“Then don’t ask stupid questions” he said pouting and crossing his arms over his chest the moment you closed your door.

You were good to drive and the way to Tannyhill wasn’t even that long, you would crash in Sarah’s bed and leave in the morning when the sun rises .

“Invest with me please” he mumbled. You thought that he would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t talk but he didn't. He was partially awake and ready to keep pushing it.

“I’m not gonna, I already told you, drop it” you said turning to the road that leads to figure eight.

“No, no, wait” he said, grabbing the steering wheel with one hand and turning to the opposite direction.

He hit the curve in the road and one of the cars that were passing by almost crashed against a light pole. “Fuck Rafe! Don’t do that again!” you said pressing the brake and parking on the side. “I was going to drop you at your place, what’s your problem?”

“Let’s go to yours, my dad doesn’t want me there” he said, starting the car again urging you to start driving, giving you zero options.

“What about Kelce’s or Topper’s?” you asked, finding an option that wasn’t your house, even though it was pretty convenient to you to be in your place and having no need to walk back from someone's house.

“Topper is with my sister I don’t fucking care where and Kelce’s house is crowded, you can leave me with Barry if you want” he said closing his eyes again.

You knew better than going to Barry’s. The man sold drugs to JJ's father and he was constantly hanging there, so, if he saw you there with Rafe, JJ and your father would know and they won’t stop asking for the truth.

You were against a wall, figuratively speaking. No choice at all.

“Fine, let’s go to my place”

author's note: Rafe is coming babyyy. I'm excited, i'm not going to lie. Let me know that you think.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x smut #obx fic #rafe imagine #outer banks

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peachijin · 1 year ago

Text

CRAZY OVER YOU

Pairing: jungkook × reader

This is a teaser. New parts will be coming soon

Jungkook loved you.

Loved you a little more than he should. He was crazy about you. Your big doe eyes, your chocolate orbs, your big plum smile, the cute mole you have on your nose. He loved everything about you.

Even the scars that you try to hide. The scars on your wrists that you cover up by wearing hoodies even when the temperature is scorching hot and the burn marks on your back.

He loved every inch of you –crazily so.

His mind was always etched with your thoughts. His days were spent thinking about just how much he is in love with you.

He honestly doesn't even remember when his little, simple and innocent crush on you remarked to something so huge – something so insane.

Something so tremendous that even he finds it hard to control his immense feelings for you. He has became crazy over you. So crazy that he is ready to kill and be killed for you. He can without any hesitation take a bullet for you while he wouldn't hesitate to shoot someone's brains out only for you.

This craziness for you has led him to the situation he is in right now. A bloody knife clutched in his hands while a sinister smile plays on his lips.

He eerily smiles at the dead corpse that was once full of life now lays dead with blood oozing out of its chest.

The sight was so horrendous that any sane human would probably not even be able to witness it but Jungkook couldn't find it in him to feel a tinge of remorse or guilt at the crime he had committed. In his mind the person was completely deserving of the punishment. Reason you may ask: because he thought that he could go on a date with his Y/n, that he thought it was okay if he could hold her hand.

A person who was trying to take away his Y/n from him was completely deserving of the punishment.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts au #jungkook au

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pathetichimbos · 1 year ago

Note

First thing. Do you have a masterlist. Second thing. MORE TOMMY PLEASE. SATIATE MY NEED. I NEED A HIT I NEED A HIT*AGGRESSIVELY SNIFFS*

First thing! No. I did and I deleted it because Tumblr is stupid, but for anything slasher you can pretty much hit the Thomas Hewitt tag on my blog because he's in practically everything I've ever written on here.

Second thing! Ask and ye shall receive.

You've never believed in karma.

As nice as the thought might be, people don't get what they deserve. They get what they're handed, and if that happens to be shit, then that's just what they get.

It's a lesson Thomas learned when he was young, and life handed him the worst cards for simply existing. And it's one he learned when he was older, and life gave him you, despite the heinous crimes he had committed.

It's something you learned, when you found your place in the Hewitt family, and with Thomas, despite all your regrets, past mistakes, and willingness to ignore the pleading cries of their victims tucked away in the basement below.

After all, everyone's got a few skeletons in the closet, right?

You huff against your scarf, hot breath puffing out in a fit of steam as it hits you right back in the face.

It had been thirty minutes since Thomas had left, chasing the loose victim off into the wilderness, not a coat or gloves in sight in the middle of a rare Texas snowstorm that had swept through just last week.

You rub your gloved hands together, shivering as you follow the quickly fading footprints through the snow, messy and scattered from Thomas chasing after the fleeing person.

They seemed to trail after the old dirt path to the desolate highway, kicking up enough snow to show the icy red dirt hiding underneath. You trudge through what's left behind, ignoring the snow that's climbing up your jeans and falling into your boots, leaving your socks a gross, soaked mess of cold water.

"Thomas!" You call out again, looking around for any sign of your husband, "Thomas!"

It wasn't exactly uncommon for Thomas to run off with no regard for his own safety, his only concern in that moment being to catch the person who ran off, but the lack of warm clothing in the harsh storm had you throwing on your own winter clothes to go look for him.

"Thomas!" You yell louder, pushing yourself up the small hill towards the highway, huffing as you push yourself through the snow, "Tommy!"

The asphalt is icy as you step on it, almost losing your balance as you look around you.

The footprints stop at the edge, leaving you to cluelessly look about, to see if you can find out where he might have gone next.

"Thomas?" You look to the left and right, seeing nothing but snow covered trees surrounding you, the falling snowmaking it harder to see more than ten feet in front of you.

You step further onto the road, moving slowly and carefully to avoid slipping.

A clear mess in the otherwise undisturbed snow catches your attention on the other side, putting a quicker stride in your step as you hurry after the trail.

The footprints lead left, further down the road and into the cold.

You huff again, following the path Thomas unknowningly left behind for you.

"Thomas! Thomas!" You repeat his name, cupping your hands around your mouth as you trudge forward.

A blurry figure begins to appear in the snow ahead, someone's body laying lifelessly against the cold ground, blood staining the white snow around it.

You sigh in relief. If that was here, Thomas couldn't be too far away.

You pick your pace up to a jog, hoping to find more footprints leading to where your husband may have gone.

"Thomas!" You call his name again as you jog towards the body, hoping he'd hear you from nearby.

Almost as soon as you yell, the body shifts and moves, bringing you to a halt.

You shift in your place, warily looking towards what you thought to be a dead body.

It wasn't like Thomas to leave a person to die, always finishing the job before heading home to let Hoyt come back and collect what was left behind.

You look around, hoping Thomas had heard you, and would come out any second, so the two of you could just go back to the safety and warmth of your home, and you wouldn't have to deal with a dying man and the harsh snow any longer.

But he doesn't come, and the body moves again, looking for another sound, shaking in the cold snow.

The sharp, pained groaning that follows kicks your feet into overdrive, kicking up snow as you run towards the familiar sound.

"Thomas!" You scream, knees knocking harshly against rocks hiding beneath the snow as you fall to the ground beside him.

He's trembling, skin pale and clammy, breathing shallow and wheezy.

"Oh, my God, Thomas, oh, my god, what happened!?" You hover next to him, the sight of fresh blood staining his clothes keeping you from touching him out of fear of hurting him or making it worse.

He doesn't have the strength to move, brown eyes hazy and weak as he whines in pain, shaky hand reaching out for you.

You take his hand in your own, wincing as you feel the chill of his icy skin through your gloves.

His blood still steams in the cold air, pooling from the multiple wounds in his stomach and dripping into the snow.

"O-Okay, okay, okay," You try to calm your racing mind and think of what to do, "It's okay, it's okay, you're gonna be okay, I- I- I'll go get help--"

He whines in protest, trying his best to grip your hand with fleeting strength to make you stay.

"No, no, Thomas, I'll be back, I- I have to go get help, I can't--" You give his hand a squeeze, hot tears blurring your vision.

He shakes his head, his other hand coming out to grasp at your arm, silently begging for you to stay.

"Thomas, I have to, I have to go get help, I need to--"

"N-No..." His voice is quiet, and shaky, creaking from years of silence as he pleads with you, "...P-Please..."

You stare down at your dying husband in disbelief, both of you knowing there was no time for you to go back. His fading eyes are tired, and you realize he's already accepted this. There's no fight left in him, no more energy to give, no urge to try and survive any longer.

All that's left is one last request, one last wish he wants you to grant him.

Please don't let me die alone.

You suck cold air through gritted teeth, choking on the lump in your throat as you yell, gripping his hand tightly in your own.

"It's not fair! It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!" You sob, pressing his hand against your head, "I don't want you to go!"

He starts trying to move, too weak to do anything more than lean closer to you.

You help him sit up, just enough to get out of the snow and into your lap.

He leans against you, whining as he pants in pain, pressing into your warmth. His skin is like ice, sending a shiver through your clothes as he lays his head on your shoulder, exhausted just from the small movement.

You rock him back and forth, sobbing harshly as you kiss his hair, pulling your gloves off and discarding them in the snow, letting him feel the warmth of your hand as you cup his cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." You cry, pressing your forehead against his, "I'm sorry, Thomas, please, I'm so sorry..."

He shakes his head, hand holding your wrist as he stares up at you, trying to comfort you even as he dies in your arms.

"No," You sob quietly, "No, I should've come sooner, I should've brought Hoyt, I should've-- I should've--"

His hand slowly lets go of your wrist, reaching up and fumbling with his hair. You realize what he's doing, helping him pull his mask off and letting it drop to the ground.

He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes close as he leans against your shoulder again. He looks so pale, the purple and blue scars on his cheeks so much darker and defined, staining his clammy skin.

He manages to lean up, just enough to press his forehead against your cheekbone, planting a chaste kiss against your jawline.

You lean down to meet him, his lips cold as ice as you give him one last kiss, watching the fog in his eyes haze over whatever little bit of life he has left as you pull back.

"...Love... you...." His voice is so tired, gravelly and weak, strained against the air as he lays against your chest, finally content as you continue rocking him.

You don't know when he takes his last breath, or how long you've been out in the snow.

Part of you doesn't want to go back.

Part of you wants to stay here, with your husband in your arms, rocking him back and forth until the snow engulfs you both and takes you with him.

He's been cold for a while now, limp and unmoving in your too tight grasp, keeping him pressed against you chest as you sob.

You have to go back.

Your legs are numb and freezing against the dirt and snow, your skin icy under your jacket.

Your face is stained with frozen tears, your eyes puffy and swollen, red from the strain.

You barely remember your walk back, the cold of the snowstorm only reminding you of the icy feeling of his touch as you trip on the stairs leading to the porch.

You hardly register when Luda Mae and Hoyt help you inside, immediately questioning where Thomas is and why you're covered in blood, overwhelming you as you sit on the couch, the hot air of the heater burning your skin.

"I- I couldn't- He wouldn't- I- I-" You're shaking, tears flooding your eyes and pouring down your cheeks, "...I was too late..."

"You let him die!?" Are the first words you actually hear, managing to snap you out of your own mind as Hoyt yells them at you, "What's wrong with you!? You should have come back here and gotten me!"

"I couldn't leave him alone!" You scream, clenching your fists together, "I couldn't let him die alone!"

"You shouldn't have let him die at all! You killed him, you goddamn--"

"Charlie!" Luda Mae yells through her own tears, sobbing on the couch on the other side of the room, "They love Thomas just as much as we do!"

"I'll be damned!" He screams, stomping around the living room, pointing a finger at you, "They aren't family! They never belonged here! If it wasn't for them, he'd be here right now! They let him die!"

You sob, folding in on yourself as you cry out, burying your face in your arms, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't- He begged me to-- I couldn't, I couldn't leave him!"

"But you did! You left my nephew, out in the cold, and now he's fucking dead!" Hoyt's relentless, calling you every name in the book as he and Luda Mae scream at each other.

You're still curled into a ball as Hoyt leaves, slamming the door as harshly as he can, curses and screams echoing through the walls.

You don't know how long he's gone, but he comes back drunk, covered in blood and dirt, red eyes swollen and puffy as he ignores everyone, barely stumbling up to his bedroom to pass out.

You stay on the couch for the rest of the night, not sleeping but not able to drag yourself up to your room, hoping that maybe Thomas might come down the stairs in the morning.

But he doesn't.

And he never will again.

...

Things are different after that.

Luda Mae stays to herself, and doesn't scold Hoyt for drinking more. Monty picks up on the same habit, often sitting on the porch to stare out at the freshly disturbed patch of dirt that mysteriously appeared after Hoyt left that day.

You can't bring yourself to look at any of them, the once happy and warm family that you found yourself apart of nothing more than a rotting memory.

You see Thomas everywhere, passing by in the corner of your vision, just out of sight and gone when you turn around. You hear his footsteps walk up behind you, but never feel the warmth of his arms around your waist. You dream of him laying in your bed at night, but the sheets are cold when you wake.

It's hell, and for once in your life, you believe in karma.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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lambsouvlaki · 1 year ago

Text

The Crime Lord - 3

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings

Word Count: 740

Summary: Jason never stopped his crime lord ways, but he did find someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Masterlist

In the early hours of the morning, she sat in a chair in the medical facility Red Hood’s most secure compound.

Jason lay unmoving on the bed.

He was more gauze than skin.

She had been too horrified to weep when she saw his injuries at first. During the long hours of surgery she broke down and bawled her eyes out. His lieutenants tried to give her privacy throughout the night, but mostly had to settle for not making eye contact.

When the morning came she dried her eyes. Out of place civilian or not, she was the Red Hood’s partner and she didn’t weep while there was work to be done. Even if her heart felt like it was going to cave in on itself.

She sat at his side with a laptop in front of her. The screen kept going dark. Jason’s eyes fluttered open.

“Flint-” he croaked.

“He’s dead.” His traitorous second in command hadn’t survived the night. “Anja took his place. Something called protocol delta, apparently.”

He breathed out a long sigh, his eyes falling shut again. His bandaged chest rose and fell. “Good. Good.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat at getting to hear him again, lucid and whole, more or less. She put her things aside and dragged her chair closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been cooked.”

“You did look like a hotdog forgotten at the back of the grill for a while there.”

He scoffed a laugh, then whined in pain. She bit her lip. “Lots of skin grafts in your near future… but you’re going to be alright.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicked to her, the only part of him he could really move right now. There was a fear in his eyes that shattered her heart.

“Yeah.” Her fingers brushed over his exposed forearm, one of the few parts of him she could actually touch. She grasped his wrist tight. “The world’s not taking you from me today.”

“Sweetheart.”

She leaned forward and brushed her lips softly as she could over the exposed wedge of his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed. His good arm rose a quarter inch further into her hold.

When the moment drew to a close she sank back into her chair. His eyes looked damp. She didn’t want to make a fuss but he didn’t look away or gruffly clear his throat.

“You know... I had a thought while falling into the fire,” he said. His voice was scratchy but strong. “A couple of thoughts actually. Like ‘I can’t believe I’m getting blown to death again,’ and ‘should’ve seen that coming.’”

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

“But more than all of that,” he said, ignoring her interjection, “I wished I’d married you.”

Her eyes widened. “Jay…”

“I thought… ‘you idiot. Didn’t even marry the girl of your dreams. And she was right there. Gonna leave behind a wonderful woman… who deserved better.’” He swallowed and looked at her sincerely. “You deserve better.”

“Are you proposing or breaking up with me?” she said with a laugh and tears in her eyes. “Full disclosure, the wrong answer here will get you yelled at.”

“I’m proposing.” His thumb brushed her knuckle. “Should have gotten a ring. Sorry. I’ll get you one later. Didn’t want to waste any more time.”

She tried to hold back a watery grin and failed. “I’m not hearing a question.”

He smiled back as much as he could.

“Baby. Sweetheart. My darling,” he drawled. Wrapped up like a mummy and still a cocky bastard, that was her Jay. “Will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “‘Course I will.”

“You’re the most beautiful, clever, patient, amazing woman in the whole world.”

She leaned forward and kissed the scarred skin of his wrist. “Then we’re matching. Because you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

He blinked through glassy eyes. “That can’t be true.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else, Jay.”

The tears burst their banks and travelled down his cheeks to soak into bandages and gauze.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

She cradled his cheek lightly. He closed his eyes and leaned incrementally into it.

She pulled her chair up as close as she could and leaned forward to rest her head against the empty side of his pillow. They enjoyed the closeness.

“What happened to Flint?” he asked some time later.

“I shot him,” she said quietly.

“What!”

#jason todd #red hood #dc #jason todd x oc #my fanfic #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #fluff #angst #proposal #hurt/comfort

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fandomfics · 4 months ago

Text

The Trouble with Love

Part 6

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x John Hancock x Fem reader

Description: After your brush with death, you face a new challenge. Communication.

Master List here

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️

No smut, sorry (next one though 😉)

Mentions of suicide, insecurity, violence, drug use, alcohol

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hancock lays in her bed, immobile from his recent trauma. This is torturous for the charismatic mayor of Goodneighbor, if he can't get high and wander town talking with the people, helping solve asinine problems, he can't push his own problems away. He's alone with his own thoughts far more than he would like to be, especially at this moment. He saw the pain and disappointment in her eyes when he came to and almost felt regret for his actions. Almost.

The regrets of his past molded him into a man of action, he would no longer stand idly by as others were subjected to pain and torment. Possibly watching the love of his life suffocating slowly, not knowing if he would spend eternity with her remains, he just fucking couldn't.

He had never thought of himself as a particularly important person. Goodneighbor didn't need him anymore, the people took care of each other now. He jumped at the chance to leave town, told her it was because people in power don't deserve to be comfortable for too long, but it was more than that. He felt like he was no longer needed, he played his part, there were no lines left for him.

She is important. She has been a blessing to the Commonwealth in so many ways. The hero that everyone knows, except herself. She calls herself a merc, and that may be in the standards of the time she came from, but here in the wasteland her morals are clear. She gave him a renewed sense of purpose, she is his savior. She is more important than he could ever be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After retrieving the locket John had for you in his office you make your way to The Rexford. With the amount of wounds and crushed bone he's going to be bed ridden for at least a couple days, time enough to figure out where to go from here.

Your love for him is more than you ever thought you could feel again, and this mess is complicated. You want to punch him, kiss him, kick him out, hold him tight, scream at him. Mostly though, you just want everything to be normal again.

"This is nice and all," you say holding the necklace aloft in front of you, "but it doesn't make up for anything."

"I don't expect it to," he looks down at his hands with a weary smile "and I would understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Do you know how long it took me to not have nightmares every night about what happened to Nate?" You ask as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed, tears welling in your eyes, "Too fucking long. You made me live that again. I woke up across from my dead partner for the second time in my life." The tears start to flow freely. Hancock reaches up a hand to wipe the tears from your face but you flinch away. The pain etched in his face as you recoil punches through your chest leaving behind a hollowing pain of your own.

"I'm sorry love, but I don't regret it." He looks into your eyes, determined for you to see he means what he says, "Send Fahrenheit up. She can help me move to the statehouse. "

You sit in stunned silence, his words cut deep. When you finally move it's towards the door, "Cooper will help you too. " You say without looking back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A few hours later you lay in Cooper's arms, curled into his chest crying as his hand strokes your hair.

"I just don't understand why he couldn't listen, why he had to do that."

"Let me give ya some insight Darlin', your death is permanent. Him and I, we have a li'l more of an advantage, but we would still risk it all to save you."

"You're on his side?"

"Ya gonna tell me that ya wasn't ready ta risk yer life ta save his? Like ya always fuckin have?"

You pull back, ready to fight him, tell him it's different, but you can't find the words. He's right, you were willing to die to make sure Hancock lived. All three of you would die to save each other, a blessing and a curse in a dangerous world.

"I-I...would have died for him too." You whisper. The pain still ebbs and flows through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut "Fuck."

Cooper shushes you and pulls you in tighter, "Yeah sweetheart. Get yerself together, let's go see him."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"He said he doesn't want to see either of you." Fahrenheit says through gritted teeth, hand on Cooper's chest.

"Bullshit, you think-"

"Cooper, it's fine," you say cutting him off "can you just tell him I'm sorry, and I want to talk through this?"

"Sure." She says simply

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shattered bottles and empty chems litter Hancocks office in the statehouse. He lays on his couch wondering how much he'll need to forget everything while his legs heal up. From the open window he hears Cooper raise his voice before being cut off by hers.

He knew this whole thing could go sideways. No one ever stayed after things took a serious turn in the relationship. That short time of bliss was the happiest he'd been in his life, but it wasn't worth the pain he caused her. The gut wrenching feeling in his stomach persists, even after hearing her, he knows he can't be with her. He can't even go a couple weeks without fucking things up. It wasn't fair to her, he doesn't deserve her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I don't understand where his mind is at, but I want to...what if he never wants to talk to me again?"

"Then there's nothing ya can do, sweetheart. Ya hurt each other. Pretty bad too. Just give it some time."

"I have. It's been three days. I can't do this anymore, it's so fucking painful."

You march back into the statehouse to find Fahrenheit in Hancock's office, door wide open as she shovels trash into a corner. The place looks like a tornado swept through and brought a pharmacy and a liquor store with it.

"Where is he?" You ask softly

"He left as soon as he could."

"Where?" Your voice becomes more urgent.

"Wouldn't tell you even if I knew."

You storm out of the statehouse in a huff, Cooper close on your heels as you quickly make your way into the third rail.

"Two bottles of whiskey Charlie." You exchange caps with the bot and grab a couple glasses from the counter before you make your way to the table closest to Magnolia.

Cooper eyes you as you open a bottle and pour him and yourself drinks. You get through half the bottle by the time the songstress has finished her set and wave her over. she eyes you and Cooper suspiciously as you slide the unopened bottle of whisky to her.

"You know the way to my heart," she says with a wink "now what can I do for you honey?"

"John talk to you before he left?"

"Yeah," she looks a bit puzzled, "came to drop off some papers. Gave me the bar."

"What the fuck....Coop, what is he doing?" You turn to your partner, eyes wide. Something is wrong. "Mags, where did he go?"

"Didn't say, exactly. Just that he might not be back for a long while. I did overhear him talking to Fahrenheit though. Something about going back to where it started."

"The strongroom."

You thank Magnolia and rush to the exit.

"Ya think he's really goin there?"

"I hope so. We need to hurry, I have a bad feeling...."

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It's not difficult to traverse the tunnels that you helped Bobbi dig when you first arrived in Goodneighbor. There are a few radroaches and mirelurks, but you and Cooper manage to take them out fairly easily. Time seems to slow in your haste, you feel an eternity passes before you reach your destination. You spend the entire journey spiralling from one terrible outcome to another. When you arrive at the strong room you hear gunshot after gunshot, no sounds of people, just metal on metal as bullets ricochet off of train cars.

You peak your head into the room and see Hancock, bottle in hand, shooting at nothing.

When he pauses to reload you call out to him.

"John, it's me."

"Leave."

"Quit fuckin' around Hancock." Cooper yells sternly as he walks up through the opening, exposing himself to the other ghoul. "Let's just have a quick chat, and if ya still want nothin ta do with us, we'll go."

"Fine, if it will get you to leave me alone." He says before taking a hit of jet.

He sits by a fire in a rusty old lawn chair, in the dim lighting you see his expression. He looks... empty. You run to him, falling to your knees at his feet, looking him over, he stares into the fire without acknowledging you.

"John please look at me." You plead, tears in your eyes. You see something stir in him but he doesn't look at you.

"Fine." You whisper, "then just listen."

He seems to focus harder on the fire as you continue.

"You hurt me, but I hurt you too. We both fucked up. I should have listened to what you had to say, talked through it...trusted you. I would do anything for the people I love, why wouldn't I expect you to do the same. I'm sorry I let you do that alone. I shouldn't have let you go back to the statehouse to heal alone either. I'm sorry. "

He rubs his eyes with one hand and leaves his face buried in it.

"Okay."

"That's all? Really? Are you done...with me?"

His silence is deafening.

Out of nowhere Cooper is in front of Hancock and his fist slams into the side of his face . "The least ya can do is give the lady an answer!" He grabs a fist full of Hancock's coat and pulls his arm back, readying another strike. At the same moment you move forward to keep him from hurting Hancock anymore, his elbow collides with your chest and sends you to the ground knocking the breath out of you. Cooper looks back to you registering what just happened, giving Hancock an opening.

Finally something in him snaps and he pulls his gun up and shoots Cooper in the shoulder. He stumbles back in surprise and releases Hancock, who is immediately at your side.

"Are you hurt?" He finally seems concerned.

"No, but I'm fucking confused."

Cooper now kneels at your other side and reaches for your hand to pull you up, "I'm so sorry darlin', ya'lright?" you slap his hand away and stand on your own.

"Go wait in the fucking hole" you snap, pointing to the way you had come from. He sulks off to the opening and disappears. With your hands on your hips you turn back to Hancock.

"I don't matter, but you do. I don't want you out here risking yourself for me when I get caught between life and death. If I go, it's fine. I've done all the good I can do in this world. Within two weeks together you've nearly died and I've caused you so much pain.... Even if I knew you could never be hurt physically, I just can't do this to you. I don't deserve your time. It was a dream to think any different."

"Ultimately I can't force you to stay, but all that was bullshit. You saved me, and I was upset about it, until I realized I was trying to do the same thing. Because you matter. You are so fucking important to me. We can make this work, we just need to be honest and talk through our shit. I don't want to do this without you. Just a few days not knowing if you wanted to ever see me again was agony."

"Sunshine, I want to see you every second of every day." He cups your cheek in his hand, "that's why I left. So you couldn't convince me to be selfish and stay."

"My life is at risk is the wasteland whether you're there or not. I want you to be selfish. I want you to be happy. I want you to be with me."

He is hesitant, you see the struggle in his eyes, but he just can't help himself. He pulls you close and kisses you deeply and you melt into his touch.

"We're gonna have to set some ground rules on sacrificing ourselves for each other though." He says as he finally pulls away.

You nod as you grasp him tightly.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout #fallout tv series #fallout hancock #fanfic #hancock x reader #john hancock #hancock x sole survivor #mdni

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