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jarofstyles · 2 years ago

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Reaper 4

Hello my loves! Here is part 4 to Reaper! Pleaseeee let us know what you think!

WC:9.4k

Warnings: violence(some detailed), angst, mention of panic attack, stalking, blood, asshole Harry, etc!

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————

Today started off just like any other day for Bunny.

She and Harry had a bit of a morning routine that blossomed in the days they’d spent together. They’d wake up around the same time and Harry would silently pad into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea before she came to cook the two of them breakfast.

Since their moment in the kitchen, there was an unspoken tension that made every interaction that much more exciting. Y/N had of course been on her best behavior, not wanting to risk anything. Not even allowing herself to give him an extra kiss when he dropped her off at class.

Today was different though.

Harry had some business to take care of at the shop so he escorted her to class on his bike while she drove in her car. He’d told her a prospect was going to be there after class to follow her around town while she ran any errands she had been putting off and that he would meet her at the clubhouse at 6.

The news had left her slightly disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t be greedy with his time and attention no matter how needy she’d been feeling these past few days. She’d see him in the evening— it was the weekend as well. Y/N just needed to toughen up. She used to do this alone, didn’t she?

So naturally, when Y/N saw a pink post-it note stuck to her stirring wheel she thought it was a note from Harry. She had thought he wanted to surprise her, leave her with something since she wouldn’t be getting her after-school kiss.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Don’t you like playing with me, Y/N? You shouldn’t have betrayed me, you’re not safe with that scumbag. It’s okay, you’ll learn.

Ps. Thank you for the gift. You smell divine.”

Suddenly there was no air to breathe in her car. She checked the backseat and instantly locked the doors, the most unsettling feeling overcame her stomach. She couldn’t stop reading the note over and over.

He’d gotten into her car without setting off the alarm. Without the prospect seeing him. He’d been here, watching her with Harry.

With shaky hands, she reached for her phone, not even sure if she’d be able to get a word out, but she knew she had to call him. She promised she would.

“H-Harry…” Bunny didn’t realize she had started crying. “H-he,” Her breaths came out heavily, “he was in my car.”

Harry had picked up the phone, thinking it was her usual check-in. He had been finishing up paperwork in the office, sending invoices when he heard her ringtone and picked the phone up.

Immediately he knew something was wrong. Her cries had filled his ear and raised the alarm bells, but when what she said hit him, he stood up.

“What do you mean he was in your car?” He said lowly, walking towards the door. “What happened? When?” His head was spinning. Of course, they’d wanted to lure him out and catch him- but he hadn’t planned on boldness like this.

“There’s- there’s a note and he knows we’re together. He was in here, Harry. He took my chapstick. It was locked, it was locked and I had the key the whole time.” She stuttered, her sniffles infuriating him.

“Where the fuck is Cricket?” He snarled, stalking down the stairs from his office. Everyone in the garage turned and looked away from him as they knew that stomp wasn’t anything good. Harry felt rage burning in his gut- the prospect was supposed to be watching the car, watching her. Keeping an eye out. He should have approached, taken photos, anything except be silent.

“I don’t know. I don’t see his bike.” She said, sobering as she realized- he had left. The prospect had left her alone and in danger, she hadn’t been safe the whole time.

“He left?” Harry stopped as he got to his bike, the hot rage boiling in his blood. “He…. Fuck.” He hissed, throwing his leg over his bike. “Lock the doors, now. Stay in that car. Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t touch the note. Stay there, Bunny. Do you understand me?” His snarl wasn’t the most comforting thing but right now all he could focus on was the anger. The panic in his chest. She had been left alone. Thank god she had gotten to her car unscathed, but what if she hadn’t?

It would be his fault. His fault for leaving an idiot prospect in charge of her. Viper had told him he had been capable and while he was a little immature, could handle a task like that.

He would be very regretful he left his post when Reaper got his hands on him.

“I’m on my way.” His cold tone was cut by the roar of his bike coming on. “Do as I said. Don’t fucking move.”

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

She was frozen, body still in shock. Before she had been able to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, brush things off, but this was real. She couldn’t deny this, there was no other answer. He made it loud and clear.

The only thing that was keeping her grounded at the moment were the hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. What was she going to do? Who’s to say he wasn’t watching her now? What if he had a tracker? A camera?

It was hard to keep herself relaxed when all she could do was sit still and wait. The silence in the car was deafening, blocking all the sound from outside, all she could hear was the sound of her heart drilling in her ears.

Harry broke what he was sure were a lot of traffic laws trying to get to him, the internal rage building and building as the ride got closer. Usually riding made his anger dwindle, at least to an acceptable level- but with the idea of Bunny in danger?

It only made it worse.

His vision was tinted in red. For this creep who was stalking her, for Cricket, for himself. He couldn’t just trust anyone with her. No one without a patch was watching her from now on. The fucker better have been dying to have left his post, and even that wasn’t something he would be happy about accepting.

His bike tore into the parking lot, the loud roar of it turning a few heads as he appeared right next to her car. The helmet was ripped off of his head, tossed to the side as he got off.

“Open the door.”

Y/N jumped up a bit, having zoned out in a spiral of thoughts. She felt relieved that Harry was here, but right now he wasn’t the Harry she had grown comfortable with. This Harry looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off.

Clicking the button she let him pull open the door, not wanting to touch the handle in case there were any prints on it. However, if this man could break into her car without setting off the alarm she was sure he was smart enough to rid the car of any evidence.

Wiping her face quickly she locked eyes with him, trying to find some kind of comfort in them but all she managed to find was rage. Sure it wasn’t directed at her, but all she needed right now was a hug.

“Let me see the note.” He placed his hand over her shoulder, lowering his head to dip into the car. Her tears only infuriated him more.

Her shaky hand handed the note to him, watching his eyes scan over the handwriting. It disgusted him. Enraged him. Took everything in him to not rip it or crumble it up, instead tucking it into his pocket as his hand shook with the anger. He was having a hard time controlling himself.

“I can’t wait to send this fucker to hell.” He spit, clutching her car door as he scanned the parking lot. “I don’t know where Cricket went, but trust me, he will be dealt with. We need… we need to get to the fucking clubhouse.” He looked down at her. “Are you okay to drive?”

He would leave his bike here for now if need be. His head was scrambled and not right. When Harry got angry like this, he had a one-track mind, and it was focused on revenge. Finding this guy. “Need to get Wiz to scan your car for a tracker again. And I need to warn Viper that the prospect is going to be hospitalized at the very fucking least, and stripped of his consideration.”

“Drive?” She asked almost as if she didn’t believe he was asking her the question. Y/N was not in the state to drive. She was barely in a state to think, not having registered much of what Harry was saying to her.

“N-no, I wanna go home.”

It was the first time she had ever asked him for something, but she just wanted to feel safe again. Bunny thought her house was safe, it wasn’t. Thought her classes were safe, in public, they weren’t. Her car wasn’t safe now either. The only place she felt safe was at Harry’s, with him there.

Y/N wasn’t sure what answer to expect from him, but she was hoping he wouldn’t give her the same tone he had been speaking to her with. It was so unfamiliar, it felt like it wasn’t meant for her to hear.

“I know you do.” He said lowly. “But we need to get ahead of this shit, Y/N.”

Using her name like that seemed to make her upset but he was too irritated with the situation to clock it at the current moment. The red rage had been running up in his body and he was blinded by the need to take care of the logistical things first.

“Move to the passenger side.” He moved to his bike, not giving her the option to talk back as he grabbed his shit from the saddle bags and shoved it into her backseat. His irritation was palpable, his jaw sore from how hard he had been clenching but he needed it. He needed her to be safe and he needed to take revenge for her.

She was quiet as he sat down in the driver's seat, starting it up and backing out with a vengeance. He knew he was being a bit reckless but he wanted them out of there. He had a feeling that the fucker was waiting in the shadows, watching. He felt it on the back of his neck when he arrived.

Y/N wished she never left the bed this morning, but she knew that this was inevitable. The shoe had dropped and any happiness she had found in the past few days had been snatched up from under her. She was naive to believe it wouldn’t happen so quickly, it left her feeling even more helpless than she had when she first called Harry.

The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of him finding the man who did this, but what would happen to her in the process? She had already caught herself getting nervous whenever she was outside of the house, already feeling paranoid even in the safety of Harry’s home.

She thought it was normal considering the spot she was in and Harry had been such a good at distraction. She was stupid to think that he would be attentive when it came to her feelings. To assume he could read her in times like these. It wasn’t in his nature. She knew that.

Bunny couldn’t stop toying with the zipper of her bag, unraveling the strings stitched into the fabric, mindlessly staring into a point in the dashboard. She wouldn’t feel anything if she just shut it off for a bit.

Pulling up to the clubhouse, he could still feel his rage simmering. Like in a pot ready to boil over, but trying his hardest not to go full on because Bunny was in the car.

“You’re safe here.” He reminded her as he turned off the car, looking at her. She looked a bit pale for her complexion, a little sickly, but he imagined she was probably upset too. He would deal with it later, and figure out how to make her feel safer. Right now? He was on a mission.

One of the traits Harry knew he had was a one-track mind. He wanted to get ahead of this before it got worse, wanted to find the man. There were cameras in the parking lot and he hoped Wiz could figure out how to hack into them.

His hand wrapped around Bunny’s stiff one as he nearly dragged her into the clubhouse, the slam of the door alerting the brothers that were here that he had arrived. And he wasn’t happy.

“Someone better fucking tell me that Cricket is dead.” He said lowly. “And if he isn’t? He will be soon.” His voice was ice, frosting up the room as the other prospects stiffened up. “No more patchless fuckers watching my girl. Where the fuck is Viper?”

“Right here, brother.” The tall man walked into the room with a brow raised, arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck’s your problem?” He asked, looking between Reaper and Bunny. “You okay, little rabbit?” His demeanor softened as he could see she was in a state, but Harry beat her to it.

“Course she fucking isn’t. Cricket fucked off and the creep left a note in her car. Her locked car.” He snarled. “Where is Wiz? I need him to check the cameras and her fucking car to make sure the son of a bitch hasn’t put shit on it.” He felt like a caged dog, nowhere to put this aggression he felt. “Just letting you know, the kid is getting his ass kicked. Hope to fuck he doesn’t show up here again.”

Viper agreed with Harry on this one. The club had vowed to protect their own and Bunny was their top priority— if anyone left her in danger, prospect or not, they’d be punished.

The club was used to seeing Harry in this state, to them, this was perfectly normal and they handled him with ease. They knew what not to say and how to say things the right way to keep him as relaxed as they could, but no one could ever curb his aggression.

“I’ll send Wiz out now.” Viper nodded, knowing better than to tell the Reaper to calm down though he wanted to for the sake of the girl standing beside him. There had been a few occasions where they had tried to contain him, but each time ended in hospital visits… that one time, death.

It was better not to get in his way when he saw red. Once his mind was set on someone, they rarely made it out alive. He fought to kill. It’s why they called him Reaper.

“Wait- Cricket?” Bulldog raised a brow. “The boy’s in one of the rooms out back. Brought a girl back- probably doing god knows what. Didn’t know he was supposed to be on duty for Bunny.”

Harry’s head whipped to the side, looking at Bulldog with his cold eyes. Bunny, unlike the rest of them, was not used to seeing this from him. As much as she knew he wasn’t ever going to harm her? It was a bit scary. The temperature in the room went down a few degrees as she looked at him.

So beautiful, so so angry. He was like a carved marble statue with his sharp lines and hard eyes, the only indications he wasn’t being the stubble and the scars.

“He left post for some fucking pussy?” He hissed, breathing picking up. His face was something she hadn’t ever seen, a new side of him. “Viper? Will you keep Bunny company for a moment?” He asked, the red clouding his vision again.

“Sure, brother.” He gently motioned for her to come over to him, though when Harry stalked off wordlessly she went to follow. “No, no. You don’t want to see him like that, little rabbit. Trust me.”

Harry was ruthless, and there was supposed to be a pact in this brotherhood. Had she gotten physically harmed? Harry would kill him.

The metal door swung open with a bang, the sound of a girl’s shriek was the last thing Y/N heard when she and Viper turned the corner.

Harry was snarling, eyes zeroing in on the motherfucker he’d left to take care of his precious Bunny. He walked over and used his last speck of patients on the young woman before him.

“If you give a fuck about your mental health, get out of here.” He commanded, breath still heavy and laced with anger. Harry knew she had nothing to do with this, this cocky prospect thought he could reap the benefits of the club having shit to show for it.

The girl simply nodded and ran towards the door, snatching her clothes up from the floor on the way out.

“You leave my woman for some pussy?” He said lowly. Harry could feel some of his brothers come up from behind him, knowing they’d pull him off when he’s had enough- but seeing the shocked look on the man’s face really didn’t help. He scrambled up from the bed and backed up as Harry stalked towards him.

“Left her all alone while the fucking creep following her left notes in her car?” He tilted his head, irritation floating through his system. “Decided to be a selfish fuck and abandon your post that Viper assigned you, have the Fuckin’ balls to come back and use a room you aren’t even patched in to use?” His hand wrapped around the man’s throat, not caring about his lack of clothing besides boxers.

“I- I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” He squeaked like a stupid rat, Harry’s hand slamming him up against the wall. “No one has shown up for days!”

“That’s what we wanted, you worthless piece of shit.” Harry spit. “The freak got into my woman’s car. Left her a note. Went through her shit. Had the time to do that because you found some subpar pussy and fucked off. You think you’re going to get patched in now?” His humorless laugh echoed in the room.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again-” he choked as Harry’s grip on his throat tightened. The man was terrifying, eyes so dark they didn’t even look the green they usually were. They all had a clue where he got his road name from, but being in the Reaper’s warpath was not something anyone wanted.

“You think…” He tightened, “I give,” tighter, “a fuck?” Harry watched as the man squirmed, his face changing color from the lack of oxygen. “You’re lucky that I’m even letting you breathe again.” Harry spat in the man’s face, only then letting go.

He moved his hand to grab the back of Cricket’s head by his hair, slamming his face into the wall with one swift movement. He picked his head back up only to repeat the motion, chuckling as the man groaned in pain.

“How pathetic. You think this is some hot shot club? Isn’t a fucking game?” Harry pulled his head back again, the man screaming in his grip.

“I kill people like you every day. I don’t care.” He pulled him back, tugging roughly at his hair before throwing him over the back of the bed.

Harry knew he needed to get out of there before he killed the guy, he already struggled with letting go when he was choking him.

Bunny could hear the screams, sitting stiffly at the bar as Viper handed her some water.

“Don’t focus on that.” He said quietly, breaking her focus. “The good news is, if there are any cameras nearby, Wiz will be able to get into the feed and we’ll have eyes on him. I’m sorry though.” He sighed.

The older man obviously felt bad that she had to go through shit like this. And the fact Reaper was being… Reaper.

“My car was locked.” She said quietly, swirling her straw around the water. “I double-check every single day. Even before this, I locked it. I don’t know how he could have gotten in.” It was something she was focusing on.

“Unfortunately there are ways, darlin’. That’s why we’re gonna make sure you aren’t unattended today. We don’t allow people like that in the club. They can do what they want on their own time… but abandoning a post, watching a brother’s woman for some….” He paused. “Sex? It’s fucked up. No other way to put it. Can’t blame Reaper for taking care of him.”

“Will he kill him?” Y/N peeped quietly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. She was aware he had said he had before but hearing it and being near where it potentially could be happening were two different things. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Nah. He probably wants to but it isn’t worth it to him. The feds, all of that. If the creep had gotten to you physically, yeah. I’d probably help him. But he’s just getting kicked out and his ass kicked.”

Y/N could understand why Viper was the boss now. He was level-headed, stuck to his morals, knew how to handle people. She was already feeling better than she had when she arrived, but now a different feeling was creeping in.

Viper’s eyes shifted to look behind her just as she felt a presence coming up from behind.

Harry didn’t want to touch her, not when his hand were covered in blood. Instead, he shuffled past them to the sink, washing his hands as tried to ground himself from his rage.

He was still breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. Harry really would have done severe brain damage if the guys hadn’t pulled him off. Fucker learned his lesson. Would never show up or snitch. For his sake, Harry hoped he knew better.

Bunny busied herself with drinking water, making herself small in the seat in hopes that he would pity her in this state.

He looked feral.

She had never seen him like this. Washing blood off of his hands, heavy breathing, stiff as a board. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, try and comfort him- but she knew better.

There was no comfort from this. He was angry and it radiated off of him in waves.

“Did Wiz find anything?” He grunted.

“Wiz did, thank you very much.” The man himself walked in, glasses perched on his nose as he placed the laptop on the bar in front of Bunny. Harry crowded behind her, hovering over her with his arm leaning on the wood top.

The footage began to play. A man, thin and willowy approached the car. A hood and mask disrupted the look, making sure that you couldn’t make out his full face. He took out a key fob and clicked it, opening her car.

“Do you have two keys?” Wiz asked. “I know the dealer will offer a spare and I’m just assuming that maybe since he had gotten into your home, he found it.” She could tell it looked something very similar to hers. But with the grainy footage, he couldn’t tell.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed, realizing where she had the key stored away. “In my ma’s beside table.” The thought made her feel physically ill. This guy had snooped not just in her room but her mothers?

This man was stooping to new lows with every item of information she learned about him.

“W-what else do you think he has?” Bunny asked, “I really don’t want her getting hurt—“ She had already told her mother about the situation back when she first moved to Harry’s. It’s a shame her mother understood far too well.

Her dad was once a Devil’s Keeper too.

“We can come around and arrange new security for your place, can get Saw to install some new locks, and maybe even get those windows properly secured.” Viper offered up with no hesitation. “We won’t let either of you get hurt, little rabbit. We’re taking care of her too.”

“It’s not her he’s after,” Harry grunted, flexing his hands. They stung a little but it was numbed by the information he just got. He had a key to her damn car.

“No more of your car. You’ll take one of mine.” He decided then and there. “We’ll leave it here.” They could have someone drop them off at home and he’d get Bulldog to grab his bike for him and drive it back.

When she looked at him, he expected an argument. “No arguments. If he can get in there, he can hide in the back. We can’t do that, Y/N.” Again, her real name. It felt so impersonal it made her recoil, the harshness of his tone. Like he had been expecting her to be sassing him and fighting it.

“Relax, Reaper. I know you’re worked up but you’ve got to remember who you’re talking to.” Viper warned. Harry did not listen. Instead, he walked off to find keys for one of their cars. His headspace was not one of comfort right now. It was of rage and coming down from a beating he wished could have been a murder. But whatever.

“Let’s go. We’re going home.” Harry muttered as if it was an order, waiting for Bunny to start walking towards the garage. He didn’t need viper on his case now too.

Y/N bit her tongue. Giving a look to viper that signaled she’d be alright and began walking towards the garage without paying any attention to Harry. It was not time for snarky remarks and being a brat— she knew she wouldn’t be happy with anything he said while in this headspace.

So she sat silently the entire ride home, letting Harry calm down while the faint sounds of deftones came through the speakers.

What was he thinking? Was he so blinded by his rage that he forgot all that they were? Or was this him showing his true colors? Y/N didn’t want to think the worst of him, for a long time, she had been the only one fighting his corner besides Sterling. Maybe he just didn’t realize it.

—-

They arrived back at his place, Harry shuffling her inside before arming the security system. He was irritated and tired and he needed a fucking shower desperately.

“Please go eat something.” His tone had softened its bite, but he was still in his own head. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll be back.”

His thoughts were focused on the creep. The man stalking her. How he could ruin him, end up. Beating up Cricket hadn't even quenched his thirst for how badly he wanted to ruin him, how he wanted to make him suffer. He wanted him to feel even more terrified than Bunny had been.

The phone call had sent panic up his spine. Knowing she was vulnerable with that man… wasn’t part of the plan. Sure, they were trying to draw him out. But not when she was unprotected.

He let the shower relax some of his muscles as the sweat, grease and leftover blood swirled down the drain leaving his skin bare. His hands flexed, seeing the new bruises and wounds but not really caring. He would take on worse to take vengeance.

The steamy bathroom was his hiding place for a few minutes as he got ready to go back out there. To see Bunny. The guilt he felt wallowed up in his throat, knowing that he hadn’t pushed harder for better people to protect her. The softness of his sweatpants moved up his leg, he plotted how to proceed. How she wasn’t going to like that he wanted to keep her under even more strict protection.

In all honesty, Bunny didn’t know what to think.

She couldn’t remember when exactly he started talking to her, the sound of her own thoughts far too loud to register the sound of Harry’s low rumble.

“Are you listening?” He asked, his shift in tone snapping Y/N out of her bubble.

“Sorry.” She muttered, adjusting her spot on the couch. Y/N had spent the last half an hour sitting on the couch staring off into the one book that was off-center on his shelf. It didn’t really matter what she was looking at when she was going on and on, thinking about what she could have done to have this happen to her.

She knew the answer was nothing. This sick fuck was after her and now it was a game.

“Did you eat?” He questioned, letting out a sigh as she shook her head no. “Y/N, it’s not the time—“

He paused as she looked a bit sick. He had wanted to snap again, get angry she wasn’t taking care of herself. Not only did he feel like an all-around failure but he felt anger towards the man following her, anger towards the ex-prospect he had beaten to a pulp, and anger at the world. But he saw that look, the faraway look on her soft face that didn’t belong there.

“Hey.” He softened his tone. “You need to eat something at least. I’ll grab something for you but you need to take care of yourself. Don’t let this fucker take away this part of your power.”

It was awkward. Harry wasn’t the comforting type, nor did he know how to apologize for being angry at her when he knew realistically it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know the dangers of the world, she didn’t know how truly serious this shit could be.

But he also was angry because she hadn’t wanted to reach out to him. Even at the first sign of something off he would want that. But she was afraid he would get mad? Yell at her. He hadn’t done much to show her any different.

The conflicting emotions and thoughts made his headache, the sting making him pinch the spot between his brows as he leaned his head down.

“I’m making a frozen pizza. The stuffed crust one. You’ll eat some”.

In a weird way, it was him showing affection. Knowing that it was a guilty pleasure of hers, despite how nongourmet it was. They’d gotten one at the store, and he couldn’t think of a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want the stupid frozen pizza.

Any other day she would have leaped at the idea, might have gobbled up the whole pie all on her own but right now she felt more like a caged animal, and not in the way Harry had. It was like he’d been feeding her, watching her before bedtime without addressing anything.

Like how he’d been calling her by her name so comfortably as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Or how he shut her up to focus on pinning his rage on some horny prospect who failed at doing his one job.

The sound of the plate against the coffee table once again pulled her from her thoughts. Y/N almost couldn’t believe she’d been sitting in the same position long enough for the pizza to cook.

Y/N looked up at his expectant face, waiting for her to take a bite. She swore it was the same guy from this morning. The same guy who she slept beside every night, who had kissed her forehead before class, the same guy whose cock she sucked just a few feet from where she was sitting now.

She didn’t think it would bother her now if he had shown even a hint of pity for her. A simple touch.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I want you to eat.”

He felt uncomfortable. It was rare for him, considering the shit he had dealt with had made him a bit unshakable. He was uncomfortable with how she looked like she was staring into the void, avoiding his eyes, quiet as a mouse. She was never quiet. She always was making noise, banging pots in the kitchen, giggling at her phone, talking to him about a show or school… Doing… something.

Bunny wasn’t quiet.

“You’re worrying me. It’s your favorite and you haven’t eaten since breakfast which was a banana.” He remembered her grabbing one on the way out. His face was one of concern, brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out how to get her to just eat and soothe a few of his nerves.

She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice to answer as her eyes started to well up with tears. It would be a snarky remark anyway, wouldn’t help with the situation. He was worried, but she felt like it was for all the wrong reasons.

Taking in a shaky breath she got up, quickly making her way toward the bedroom to have a moment to herself. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again, to think she was weak. It had been hours since the incident but the gut-wrenching feeling hadn’t eased up. She was on edge, her body beginning to shake as the tears she had been holding back finally freed themselves.

Y/N sank down against the door, a violent sob ripping through her. The reality was this wasn’t going to end soon, that this would get worse before it got better, and Harry… well he hadn’t even considered how this would affect her psychologically.

Nothing could have prepared her for the wash of paranoia, the flashbacks to times when she thought she was potentially being watched. He was in her car.

Where else had he been? What else had he seen?

She could hear his footsteps behind her a few seconds later, calling her name in a confused tone as he stopped and wiggled the handle only to find weight in front of the door.

Harry was panicked. Really, he didn’t know what to do in these situations. Why was she crying? Because of the stalker? He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had caused this break in her, but he didn’t like the squeezing of his heart as he waited outside the door with his hand against it.

“Bunny- let me in. Please. What’s wrong?” The edge was in his voice, nerves audible as he felt unsteady. How did he fix this? He didn’t know how to make her feel better or even the source of it fully, his hand knocking again.

Was she hurt? Did something else happen she didn’t tell him about? His mind was swimming with possibilities, none of them good.

“Can you talk to me? I don’t…” he kicked the floor. “I don’t like knowing you’re upset and not being able to help. What is wrong? Can I help?” It was okay, he thought. One moment she was quietly sitting there, albeit unsettled, and now she was letting out gut-wrenching sobs that made his fists clench.

“C’mon, angel. Let me see you.”

Bunny couldn’t silence her sobs despite her attempts at muffling them against her hands. He couldn’t just leave her alone for a moment to feel. He hadn’t all day. It seemed he had been prepared for everything but this.

Y/N let a few moments pass as she collected her breathing once again, knowing she could hold it in for only so long. Swiping the tears from under her eyes and nose, Bunny picked herself up off the hardwood floor to open the door.

Harry hadn’t made that face in years. She swore she had only seen it a handful of times in moments when she couldn’t previously tell Sterling the matter. This time he looked far more perplexed as if he was struggling to read her. Trying to understand.

“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?” She dared to ask, a sniffle softening the blow of her tone. Bunny was definitely upset, the rage, however, was a look that he recognized. Harry had seen it plenty of times in the eyes of his enemies and for lack of a better term, haters. He’s never seen such anger in a woman’s eyes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end of it.

“I…” he swallowed, searching her face. “There’s a few things you could be upset about, Bunny. So I have to ask what it is.”

The thing about Harry was that he was a bit oblivious when it came to emotions. To feelings. Y/N knew that. That didn’t mean it hurt any less when he was accidentally an asshole.

He was hesitant, stepping further into the room and closing the door. Was that anger reserved for the stalker? For Cricket? For him? He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing at her, everything in her body language screaming at him to stay away.

“You’re angry. At the stalker, yeah?” He kept his tone soft though his conviction wasn’t strong. He wasn’t sure what she was angry at. It was just very odd to see her like this. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks hurt his heart.

“Obviously, yeah!” She groaned, letting herself get up to start pacing the room. She wanted to take her mind off of this, but he just needed to know. “Can’t do anything about that but sit back and wait. You said your guys would handle it. I trust that.” She wasn’t denying the help.

“Is it not enough for me to just… be upset?” Y/N turned to face him, “Everything got so real so quickly and I’m just supposed to get used to it and carry on, yeah?” It made her feel small saying that, but he wanted to know so she’d tell him.

“You wanna help me so bad, maybe listen to me when I say I’m feeling something. Know you’re stressed but it’s not my fault this is happening, it’s already burdening enough.” She felt her eyes well up but she quickly swallowed them down.

“You really hurt my feelings today. Just thought maybe even for a second you could just be there. Like actually be there and not Reaper.”

Harry’s brows wrinkled, his jaw clenching as he went to open his mouth, shutting it again. He couldn’t understand what she meant. A burden? When the fuck had he even implied that?

His anger stemmed from the creep that was following her. Sure he was irritated she hadn’t told him sooner, hurt, even, but she wasn’t the cause of his actions today. In fact, it was the way she had been neglected by someone he had said ok to protect her.

“Hold on for a second.” He said, raising a hand. “You aren’t a Fuckin’ burden. I’ve never said that, nor would I. You’re far from it. I’ve been pissed all day because you trusted me to protect you and someone let you be accessible. In my name.” He exhaled sharply.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was trying to take care of business, Bunny.” He stressed. “It wasn’t to… to make you feel bad or anything. I was so angry that the fucker had gotten to you, that Cricket had left his goddamn post I couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t to hurt your feelings.” He ran his hand through his hair, allowing himself a step closer. “I never, not once, blamed you for my stress. I took this head-on because I fuckin’ care about you. I wouldn’t throw that shit in your face.”

“I didn’t say that either.” She countered, “You know you can take care of business and still show me compassion— I” Bunny let out a frustrated sigh, “I know you didn’t mean it but it felt like it anyway. Kept calling me Y/N, felt like I was a kid getting in trouble. As if you were a stranger.”

She wasn’t sure if she was making much sense but she wanted him to understand.

It was a slight change in his usual tone with her the moment he arrived, the lack of gentleness and how his eyes commanded her instead of watching her for clues like they usually did.

“You told me this wasn’t going to be an easy process, I know that. But you let me into your home, let me lean on you whenever I needed anything and I needed you today and it's like you didn’t even care until you heard me crying and I really don’t need your pity.”

She was irritated and tired and emotionally exhausted. All she wanted was his affection before, she wanted to be held and told it would be okay. Obviously, Harry wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but she wished he could just lighten up. Give her something to work with.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were getting in trouble. I wasn’t thinking about how you’d take that stuff- it’s just…” he tugged on his hair. “It’s really fucking hard when you’re emotionally connected to someone you’re trying to protect.” He stressed. “Usually we’re hired for this shit. There’s no… coddling, comforting, none of that. We get in, eliminate the threats, and then we’re done. We guard with little emotional connection. When it’s you?” He stressed the word. “Feels like every damn misstep is gonna choke me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” He finally placed his hands on her shoulders, making her eyes meet his.

“You get me? If I didn’t do the shit I did today, I’d be pacing around like a caged animal. I’m still fuming. It’s fucked up, yeah, but it’s how I am. I’m sorry I didn’t comfort you, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but…” he tilted his head up to collect himself for a moment before rolling it back down, catching her watery eyes.

“It isn’t something I could let go. You don’t communicate with me either, Bunny. You didn’t tell me. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have noticed but you’ve got to try n’understand, my head is rolling too. You’re in danger and I want to help you, I’m going to, I just need you to be blunt with me. Like how you are now.”

“I tried to tell you!” She muttered, but there was no power behind her words. She had enough of this, emotionally burnt out, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears from rolling but it wasn’t much help.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” She knew it wasn’t worth fighting over anymore. It was late and she needed rest. She felt on edge still, like there were eyes were still on her.

Harry didn’t really like her answer, knowing there was something more but was too nervous to push further. Had he gotten too caught up? He told her it would be like this. She was aware of what he was capable of.

“Did I scare you?” He asked suddenly, stopping his own train of thought to wait for her answer.

Harry knew that he was intimidating. He was very much so, considering his road name was quite literally a symbol of death, he was no stranger to violence himself. He’s grown up in it.

Y/N, though, hadn’t. His little Bunny had been sheltered from it all until recently. It had been on purpose from both him and her brother, making sure the ugly parts of their lives didn’t touch her. It seemed that now, though, it had all been in vain.

“I never wanted you to see me like that. M’sure… it wasn’t the most comforting thing, to see me like that. But I need to know if I actually scared you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat despite his dry mouth, gently pulling her back to him.

That would be something he’d never forgive himself for. Anyone else in the world had a reason to fear him, but Bunny? She didn’t have a single reason to have a drop of fear. She was safe from him, she was protected. The one person who should always count on his gentleness.

Y/N shook her head with a definite no. He hadn’t scared her, but he wasn’t exactly the friendliest in that state.

“You didn’t… but I didn’t recognize you and that was scary.” She swallowed thickly, wiping her own tears away while trying to keep eye contact with him. Bunny had nothing to lose, she had nothing to hide from him. The feeling was uncomfortable, slightly embarrassing like she was ashamed to be so open with him emotionally.

“Felt like I couldn’t talk to you… so I wanted to let you know, I didn’t like it.” She finished and took another deep breath in a form of self-soothing, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. It reminded her of the part of her that didn’t even want to wear the skirts anymore. The thought of prying eyes made her regret her fashion choices now more than ever.

Having her privacy invaded made everyday tasks flood her body with anxiety. How long would it be till they caught this guy? How much more was she going to see before they did?

He exhaled heavily as he watched her close in on herself. The poor thing had been through the damn ringer and he surely didn’t help, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to fix any damage he had made. It was weird to see her like this. Suffocating. How he managed to be oblivious before was probably because of the blindness his sheer rage for the man had caused. He had failed to see he neglected the main person he was angry for.

“M’sorry.” He said quietly. “It’s a part of who I am but I didn’t want you to see it. It’s… hard to control myself.” It wasn’t an excuse, no, but it was at least maybe an explanation. It was hard to see her so sad, so shaken up.

He just wanted to fix it.

Harry didn’t give a fuck about many people, but Y/N had wiggled her way into his chest and set up camp. He had been trying to prevent it but it was undeniable now. Maybe that’s why it made him unreasonably angry. It felt extremely personal.

“How do I fix it?”

There wasn’t much she wanted from him but for him to just relax and be himself with her. Something to remind her that it wasn’t always going to be like this.

“Can we lay down?” Bunny was almost afraid to ask, “just want a normal night.”

There was nothing that soft bedsheets and comfy pajamas couldn’t fix. Of course, she had been wearing lots of skimpy clothes around the house and it was comfortable, but today she just wanted to be.

“Can I have one of your shirts please?” They were far more worn in and comfy than anything in her duffle bag, that’s for sure. She made her way to the bathroom to take off her makeup and freshen up, splashing her face with some cold water to help with the heat in her face.

She walked out to see him already in bed, waiting for her as if he was waiting for her next directions.

Harry felt like he was walking on eggshells. He’s never been good at all of this, the comforting, but he was itching to touch her. For some normalcy. His shirt hung on her body as she exited the bathroom, her hair tied up on her head and her legs bare.

He watched her pass him, grab the television remote and turn it on the food network before shutting the lights off and climbing into the bed next to him. His hands folded in front of him as his eyes watched her every move.

“Good?” He murmured, watching her submerge herself in a blanket sea. Her body was covered, head resting on the pillow and her sudden turn away from him made him wince- though not undeserved.

“Can you hold me?” She felt shy as the words fell from her mouth, though the covers helped comfort her. There was a reason she had turned around before asking.

She didn’t want to look at him, she knew it would just create more feelings. Feelings she was trying to suppress but was failing at. Ever since the night, she sucked him off in his kitchen, she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him.

It was his intimacy she craved, but she couldn’t exactly say it so bluntly. It made her forget everything. He had asked her to be blunt but she was too afraid to make any moves. Not when he had shown her exactly how much it pains him to be teased.

It was probably the last thing he expected, but she felt him shift. The bed made a rustling sound as he placed his phone into the charger and shift onto his side, scooting up to her and gently placing his arm around her waist.

He didn’t know what to expect and it surely hadn’t been this request but he would happily provide some affection if it meant she would relax. His hand rested over her stomach, the heat of it bleeding through the thinner fabric as he pulled her into his body.

“M’sorry, Bunny.” He murmured, leaning down to test his luck with planting a kiss behind her ear. “I’m gonna keep you safe.” She didn’t reply right away. The low murmur of the tv filled the space, the light bouncing off the wall with the different frames but all he could do was listen to her breathing.

He should have done this to begin with, but he’d let the rage overcome everything else. It wasn’t something he should have done at all, but he was going to do his damn best now to make up for it.

“This alright? Want me to move at all?”

A gentle wave of heat and excitement came over her before it started to dissolve in a feeling of warm lingering comfort. Her hand rested over his, fingers locking over his in an attempt to be closer.

The low vibration of his words made her eyes flutter shut, the gentle kiss making the hair stand up on her neck. She was so reactive to him, it wasn’t really helping her with her angry mood. Bunny was softening up by the second in his arms, but she wouldn’t dare ask for more.

Did he know that he could have her however he wanted? It wasn’t often that she could get a man to hear her out, that someone like Harry could actually take a step back and listen to her.

She hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing, hoped he would continue showing her the softness he was showing now. Was she asking for too much? They did say they were pretending, right?

She stopped pretending a long time ago. Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember starting.

—-

Harry woke up to an empty bed.

Something that usually sent relief through him had him stiffening, feeling nervous and panicked for a few moments before hearing the television playing out in the living area and the clink of ceramic. The smell of coffee permeated the space, cluing him into why the bed was empty.

A peek at the clock on the nightstand made him realize it was only 6 in the morning, way too fucking early for Bunny to be up. She couldn’t sleep, it seemed. That wouldn’t do.

He stretched with a grunt, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and padding out of the room to see Bunny at the kitchen counter, flipping through a cookbook she had brought from school. Her body was covered in his shirt and this time, joined by a dark brown knit cardigan from the depth of his hall closet. Cozy and soft, she looked inviting and Harry’s sleepy mind couldn’t help but indulge. Especially with how she had asked for his comfort yesterday, he took a hint.

Arms wrapped around her waist, his nose nudging her neck as he rubbed himself against the hot skin. She’d jumped slightly, relaxing into his hold as she placed the coffee on the countertop.

“You’ve never been an early riser.” He mumbled against her, the cool morning air not agreeing with him. She should be back in bed, however delightful the scene of her in his kitchen was. “Can’t sleep?”

He was so warm.

Hot breath paired with the morning raspiness made her feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, she’d been leaning against the counter. Her eyes fell shut, allowing herself to lean back into him only slightly.

“Too nervous.” She continued her honest streak, though it was a bit of a lie. She had woken up because she was a bit shaken, but she couldn’t fall asleep again with how closely snuggled up she was. If anything it just made her want to be closer to him, skin to skin, maybe even more.

“Were you worried?” Y/N asked teasingly, he could hear the smile on her face. The coffee was long forgotten now, her hands finding their place over his. She decided to let herself indulge in the fantasy, it was the least she could do for herself.

“Yes.” He said quietly. He was worried beyond belief. For a few moments, he realized she was gone and hadn’t placed her yet, he was terrified something went wrong and the creep had gotten inside the place and she had left without telling him.

“It’s ok to be nervous. But you’re safe. Should come back to bed. Too fuckin’ cold out here.” He pulled her further into him, hands grasping under her sweater so he could warm his digits between the layers.

It was so quiet out here besides the tv. She had put it on for background noise, terrified of hearing whatever could be lurking out there. Her head leaned back and rested against him, shivering a little when he pressed another kiss to her skin.

“See? Too cold.” He began to walk backward. “Too early. Come back. Don’t have to sleep. Or talk. Just…” he took a breath, one she could feel against her back. “Don’t be doing anything that’s too far from me. I’ve of t’call and cancel my shit for today anyways.”

For a second she thought she was still dreaming. It all felt too good to be true, he was staying home today?

She didn’t want to get her hopes up, she knew he would likely be busy working and keeping an eye on her. Lately, she had been feeling anxious about leaving the house, so when she wasn’t in class she was usually at home finding ways to occupy herself.

It was rare that he joined her for anything other than meals or just for a few hours before bedtime, so it would feel like a little treat to get to spend the day with him.

A giggle escaped her lips as he began pulling her from the counter and back to the bedroom, her hands grabbing the remote just in time to turn the tv off before they were down the hall and in his bedroom again.

The smell was enough to have her relaxing, letting Harry place her wherever he wanted her.

Harry may be an asshole, but he was an asshole who tried to learn and make up for his mistakes. Guilt still sweltered in his chest as he felt her happily be dragged into the bedroom again.

Right now, it was making her feel safe. That was his only goal. Keeping her here and happy and relaxed the best he could considering he had been so preoccupied. She needed a break and so did he.

Once he got her into the bed again, cardigan on the floor, blankets over their bodies, lights off, he asked her one of his only requests of the day.

“I know you’ve got classes but… I really think you should stay home today.” He approached it cautiously. “You’re still a bit sensitive, didn’t sleep… I don’t feel comfortable sending you off where he had just felt comfortable getting in your car.”

She could see on his face that he was trying to not be overbearing. It was coming from a place of care, a spot of concern. Her nails played with the necklace twisted up, untangling it as he spoke. There was an intimacy to it, but a hesitation to look up at him.

“I don’t want to make it worse but… I think you need a break.”

“I won’t go today… but I don’t want him to think he got to us,” Y/N explained, still focused on the necklace. “I-I just have this feeling in my stomach like he’s going to pull something and I don’t know what it is but it doesn’t feel good.”

The moment she read the note she knew it was just the beginning. She wasn’t sure what message she wanted to send, but Harry was right, she needed at least one day.

It pained her to miss classes, she genuinely loved her classmates and loved cooking. It was fun every day. She felt completely free and at ease, for the hours she was in that building. Harry did have more experience with stalkers though. Maybe he did know best.

“I-I don’t want to be here by myself though and I know you’re really busy, so I really don’t have a problem with going— it will give you time to do things still.”

“M’not gonna leave you alone. I’m staying with you.” He murmured, frowning slightly. Of course, he understood the assumption but he wished she would have the opposite. That she would just think he would drop everything for her.

“I’m not going to let him get to you, love. I hope you know that. M’not gonna let him hurt you.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I know I’ve been a bit shit at this so far, but I’d rather have my hand cut off than let him get anywhere near you. I’ll take him out as soon as I can. But for today… let’s just sit here and recharge.”

She had an extremely rough day yesterday and part of him really wanted to make it up to her, while the other half simply wanted her to rest. Who knew what the stalker was going to pull next?

All he knew was that he was going to take care of her.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Words: 5,746 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: strong language, violence, gore, blood and injury, angsttttt A/N: All gifs made by me. :) This is Part 9 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List! Summary: The group continues through the subway tunnel and runs into trouble with the dead. Coming out on the other side, they set off to resupply and regroup.

Previous Chapter - Part 8

As if the creaking and groaning in the pipes wasn’t bad enough, then you came to the corpses. None of you had seen the massive walker rise up behind Gage and Negan was the first one to spring into action. He managed to pin it up against the wall, but it struggled against him, nearly overpowering him as everyone stood watching. It looked as if Negan wouldn’t be able to hold it. “Ah, shit,” you swore aloud and darted over and stabbed it in the side of the head with your blade with a grunt of effort. It stilled immediately and slid down against the wall at your feet. Negan stumbled back, out of breath. “Jesus...” he murmured, glancing at the slime and skin that had slipped off the enormous rotter with disgust. You didn’t say anything in return and the two of you looked back at the rest of the group. All eyes were on you and Negan. You hung back and kept your mouth shut as the arguing started and rose to a near fatal conclusion.

Things didn’t get any better… It wasn’t long after, when you’d all nearly finished your work on clearing the tunnel, that Alden realized Gage and Roy were gone, along with most of the supplies you’d all set aside.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “This is what all our fucking arguing got us. That’s most of our rations, our batteries for the flashlights. And we’re blocked here anyway,” you said, gesturing to the train car. Negan was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. Daryl punching him across the face to shut him up seemed to have made an impression, even if it was mostly to avoid Maggie’s rage overboiling and activating her itchy trigger finger.

There was more discussion about what to do next when Daryl suddenly shushed everyone and held up a hand. Growls, a distinctive sound despite the echo off the arched stone walls. The beams of your flashlights illuminated an approaching herd. Too many to count. Perhaps they’d wandered in to instinctively seek shelter from the storm, some part of their diseased brains compelling them to go underground. Perhaps it was random movement or pure coincidence. Whatever it was, you all snapped into action.

You stood alongside Daryl and the others as you readied your bow. Gabriel and Alden frantically tried to pry open the subway car door, but it was jammed shut. Arrows flew and weapons swung and knives plunged, but there were just too many. By the time Daryl gave the call to fall back you were already splattered with walker blood nearly head to tow.

“Up on top! Go! Go!” Daryl yelled. He ushered you toward the car and gave you a frantic look. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

“You better be,” you said, stretching and reaching for the first handhold you could find. You’d just been hauled to safety with the help of the others when you heard Dog barking and Daryl frantically shouting after him.

“Dog, no! Dog!” Daryl started toward the side where there was a narrow space in the rubble that Dog had apparently run through. You heard him yell to Maggie. “Meet me at the other end!”

“Daryl, wait! No—Daryl, wait!” Maggie’s frantic voice answered. You knew right then what you had to do, and you swung yourself over the back of the subway car and dropped to your feet again, perhaps a bit clumsily. Negan and Maggie looked at you in surprise. Maggie looked fearful.

“See you on the other side,” you shouted over the approaching growls. “You better go! Go! Climb!” you yelled over your shoulder. You darted after Daryl and soon caught up to him just inside the tight tunnel.

“Y/N?” he looked behind himself at your huddled form over the broken concrete. “No—go back! Stay with the others and—ain’t no way to know where this is goin’ or what’s on the other end!”

“I told you—I’m not separating from you if I can help it! Now hurry up. We need to get to Dog,” you said with finality.

Daryl gulped and turned back around, squeezing himself through the debris. You followed closely behind, glancing over your shoulder as if you expected the horde to follow you in. Finally, Dog’s barking was closer and you came upon an opening in the concrete that had clearly been made in the shape of a door. Daryl stepped out and turned around to take you hand and help you. His fingers squeezed around yours gently and he gave you a worried look. “I shoulda listened to ya. I mean fuck Negan, but I shoulda listened to ya. ‘M sorry,” he said, regret thick and heavy on his tongue.

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine. As long as we’re together, right?”

He nodded solemnly and then turned to look at your surroundings. You were in the remains of an underground camp in an old decommissioned tunnel. Dog was panting at Daryl’s side. It was eerie and silent and the air seemed heavy and dank. Daryl lifted the beam of his flashlight and shone it over graffitied words and a sprawling mural depicting a conflict of the classes. You noticed him swallow thickly and saw that his eyes were slightly glassy. You grabbed his hand again and laced your fingers with his and he looked down at it.

Your eyes wandered over the wall again and the detritus of people who were no longer here. “Do you think this is from before or… or after?” you asked him softly.

The muscle in his jaw clenched. “Both,” he said. “C’mon. Let’s see if there’s anythin’ worth takin’ now that most of our supplies are gone.” You nodded and the two of you started to move on slowly, scanning the heaps of moldering sleeping bags and clothes for anything useful. Daryl picked up a small plastic bag. He pulled out a 100-dollar bill and you read it in the glow of his light. Next, his fingers found a Polaroid photo of two smiling kids, a brother and a sister.

Your heart ached and your stomach felt hollow, as if it suddenly contained a chasm of space that was pushign up on your lungs. Daryl’s free hand drifted toward the left breast of his vest beneath his poncho and landed over the Polaroid of the two of you, stitched in safely there. His hand squeezed yours again and then he rolled the plastic bag closed and stuck it into his pack. There was another moment of silence and then he glanced over at you. “Back there. When ya helped Negan—”

You sighed and nodded. “I know. I—Look, I know what he did. He took a father away from his wife and child. He tortured you and who knows how many other people in one way or another… He’s got blood on his hands that will never completely wash off. But in moments like that—” you searched for the right words, hesitating. “I—I can’t just stand by and not help someone who is supposedly on our side now. Even if it is Negan.”

Daryl nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. Yer—yer a better person than I am,” he drawled, ducking his eyes. His hair fell into his face. “Ya always have been.”

“That’s not true.”

Just then, before you could say anything further, Dog took off in response to unexpected echoing yells and raced to a large drain culvert and jumped inside, paying no attention to Daryl’s shouts.

“Fuck!” Daryl growled, peering inside. His flashlight hardly seemed to penetrate the gloom. He shot an anxious look back at you and then closed his eyes for a long moment when you only nodded stoically. When he opened them again, he climbed in and you slipped inside after him.

The dark was disorienting and the tunnel walls seemed to shrink in around you as you crawled and hunched your way through. The growls and moaning of walkers echoed in the network of metal and stone, bouncing off walls and ricocheting in ways that made it impossible to tell which direction they were coming from. Your knees were scraped and aching from the cobbled stone and metal. Your hands were cold from the moisture pooling in the low, stagnant spots. You could only imagine what the two of you would look like when you emerged at the other end… if you emerged.

Right when you thought you were almost out, there was a sudden growl from an offshoot of the culvert beside you. You looked back just in time to see a gnarled hand shoot out and grip your boot. Some noise of surprise must have escaped you because Daryl was yelling your name. “Y/N! No!”

Your hand fumbled with your sheath and landed on the handle of your knife. You struggled to maneuver in the tight space but after what seemed both entirely too long and lightning speed, you freed yourself from the walker’s grip and lunged with your blade, finding your mark in the skull.

“Are you okay?” Daryl asked desperately, laying on his back, half sitting to look at you. You nodded, gasping in hurried breaths.

There was no time to recover as heavy iron behind him clanged where the exit had just been. More walkers had bumped into the grate, slamming it closed, and they now reached their bony arms through, grappling at the air. “Stay here!” he said gruffly.

“Daryl—!” but he had already pushed himself into the grate, hurling the walkers back as it opened and sending him tumbling down to the floor. You army crawled as fast as you could to the edge of the culvert, gripping his crossbow where he’d left it. But he quickly righted himself and put down the two dead with a few swings of his mace. He glanced up and down the tunnel he’d emerged into before rushing back to take his crossbow onto his shoulder again and to help you out onto your feet. “Are ya good?” he asked you again, studying your face. He couldn’t see any sign of injury. You were both damp from the heavy moisture in the air. Your hair was sticking to your cheeks and your neck. Your eyes were a little wide. He would have clasped your face if his hands weren’t absolutely filthy.

You nodded. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Fine,” he drawled, turning to look into the blackness ahead. Dog’s bark was echoing in the distance. “I dunno what the hell has gotten into him…”

“Let’s go find out,” you said, starting forward again. Daryl walked beside you, clearing on edge. His eyes scanned behind and in front alternately, and then he put out an arm to stop you. His eyes narrowed as he looked ahead toward a dark stain on the ground. He adjusted his grip on his crossbow and stepped protectively ahead of you, shining his light toward the pool that glistened ominously.

You followed just behind him and finally were able to see that it was fresh blood, and not blood from a walker… It was a deep, violent red. Your stomach twisted. “Daryl…”

Suddenly a figure materialized in the dark, staggering toward you. Daryl nearly let a bolt fly, but then he registered that it was Roy right as your breath left your lungs in a puff. He collapsed. The blood was his. Behind him trailed walkers, and in a flash, Dog streaked out of nowhere and took one down, fighting with it ferociously until Daryl could get a shot and it went still.

You pulled out your knife again and rushed one of the others, plunging the blade into its head. Beside you, Daryl dropped his bow and pulled his twin knives from their sheaths in a purposeful movement and he dropped the remaining walker with almost ease.

“Roy!” you said, spinning and hurrying to where he had collapsed. He was covered in blood. “Shit… Shit!” You fumbled with your pack, digging into the front pocket for the med kit. Daryl knelt down beside you and the two of you exchanged a grave look.

Roy let out a wry laugh and coughed up blood onto the concrete. “I can see from your faces that this’ll probably be the last mistake I ever make. Here,” he pulled out his gun and a hand grenade and held them out to Daryl. “Don’t waste any supplies on me. Just—tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.”

You shut your eyes and hung your head. Kids. The man had kids... he was scared and he made a mistake. “Hey. I’m not giving up on you. Come on. Let me patch you up as best I can,” you said.

“Where’s the ammo bag?” Daryl pressed Roy.

“I lost it. And I lost Gage… Please—just—make it quick.” He coughed thickly again.

Daryl’s jaw tightened. “Nah. Ya hang here ‘til we figure this shit out, alright? We’ll come back for ya. Just hang on.”

“We have to get back to the others,” you said, already shouldering your bag again when Daryl was back beside you, greeting Dog happily and scolding him at the same time. “Daryl, he said there are walkers everywhere. What if they’re trapped back there on the subway car still?”

“Yeah… c’mon…”

You were barely there in time. The rest of your group was trapped. On one end, a barricaded door, and on the other a herd of walkers. There were walkers ahead of you too, between you and the barricade, but less than were bearing down on your friends on the other side. You, Daryl, and Dog crept up from behind. You fingered your bowstring, itching to start, an arrow nocked. Daryl loosened his knives and then raised the pistol. You gave him a slow nod to tell him you were ready, and he aimed and pulled the trigger. An arrow whizzed past him and buried itself deeply into the head of the next walker, still covered in the spray of the one whose head had just exploded with Daryl’s bullet. You moved forward swiftly, like a force to be reckoned with, like the storm above, clearing the path to the others. When Daryl ran out of bullets, his knives sang.

He tugged the seat blocking the door out of the way and between him and Negan, they managed to force it open. Your found family poured through. As a final parting, Daryl shoved the hand grenade into the mouth of an advancing walker and kicked it back into the next car, slamming the compartment door closed again. He dove down over you where you were huddled behind a seat, shielding you with his body, as it exploded and vaporized the herd in the next car into nothing more than a sickening spray of gore.

You all slowly rose, glancing around, relieved that you’d managed the narrow escape. Maggie gave you both grateful looks and let out a long exhale. “Thank you. You make a pretty good team,” she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind keepin’ you two around,” Alden joked. Everyone’s hearts lifted, just a little.

Luckily, there were no more surprises during the rest of your underground trip, and you emerged from the station to find that the storm had broken and the sky was clear. An infinite number of stars shown overhead. You found yourself staring, drawing in deep lungfuls of life-giving cool, after-rain air. Daryl was watching you staring. He could see the stars reflected in your eyes—or wait—no. Maybe that was just you shining. Even covered in filth and splattered with walker blood, nothing seemed to dim you.

His hand went to his pocket and he pulled out the 100-dollar bill again, looking at the dark writing and thinking of those two smiling kids in that picture, them huddled around the radio—waiting and hoping. He wondered if they’d made it out, if they’d ever found anywhere safe again. You sank down next to him, close enough that your shoulder and leg were against his. Dog came and sat between your knees and you bent to scratch his chest and kiss the top of his head. Daryl tucked the bill inside his glove and you studied his expression. It was thoughtful and sad. You wished you were alone so you could kiss him right then… Instead, you reached over and rested your hand briefly on the bare skin of his forearm. Your pointer finger swept back and forth, and Daryl glanced over at you again and felt some flickering of warmth start between his lungs again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were nearly to the hidden supply depot to restock and rest up, when up ahead, something horrific, still encased in deep shadow, loomed. Your inhale was a sharp hiss of breath through your teeth and your hand went reflexively to the handle of your knife. “Daryl…”

A few more steps and it was clear to everyone. Corpses. Rows of corpses, strung up and hanging by their feet. There was one row on each side of the road, lining it like poplar trees on some kind of perverse boulevard. You further loosened your knife in its sheath. “It’s them,” you said. Your voice was steely but Daryl thought he could hear a slight shake in it. “This is them.”

Daryl swung his crossbow off his shoulder and readied it in his hands, squinting ahead into the dark.

Your hand landed on his arm. It felt surprisingly cold and heavy—unlike your usual touch. Or was his perception of you being tainted by the horror show he was staring at? When you spoke again, your voice was more urgent. “We need to get to—” Cover. You’d been about to say “cover.” Too late.

Chaos. Nightmarish, abrupt chaos. Roy dropped to the ground dead with an arrow in his face. Cole’s hand was sliced clean off with a sharp knife that also embedded in his leg. Your group scattered for the trees like frightened rabbits in front of a fox.

“Y/N?!” Daryl whirled, searching for you, but you seemed to have vanished. Yells punctuated the darkness. A draft of air passed his head and he ducked, aware that a knife had flown right past him. He crouched and squinted into the darkness, his heart pounding—was it pounding? Or had it stopped altogether? “Y/N!” he yelled, unable to hear his own voice over the rush of blood in his ears. And just like that—he realized he was seemingly alone, with only Dog nearby. The silence was close, pressing closer, and ominous.

“Okay… okay…” he tried to slow down his racing mind and focus. Where were you? You’d been right beside him when Roy was hit—and then—fuck! It was all too chaotic! He was disoriented in the trees, in the darkness. He felt it all over again—the way your hand and then your fingertips had slipped away… or were pulled? Were you pulled away from him? He shook his head as if that would do fuck all to clear his thinking up. “Focus. Fuckin’ focus,” he muttered to himself, rising from where he was crouching and scanning the ground nearby, hardly daring to step away from the tree he’d been sheltering behind. But he needed to find a trace of you; a track, a scuffmark, a piece of gear, even one of your arrows, or—

He felt a painful jolt rip through him as his eyes landed on a dark splotch in the dirt. He stopped cold. All warmth seemed to leave his veins. He gripped his crossbow with white knuckles. He moved closer and stared at it, bending down on one knee. There was Roy, dead on the ground. Here—he touched a scrape in the dirt—he’d been here… and you. You were just beside him, on the side where that stain glared back at him, looking almost deep purple in the dark and the dust.

As much as he wanted to, he didn’t dare call out for you again, even though every fiber of his being was revolting against his silence. You couldn’t have gone far yet. It’d been only seconds—right? It wasn’t even minutes yet… You had to be nearby still, especially if you were injured. But if he called out, gave away his position—no. He couldn’t get to you, couldn’t help you if he was dead. He stayed silent and it was killing him. It was like Atlanta all over again. You’d been together. And then you were suddenly, cruelly rended apart. He felt your touch slip from him and he willed it not to be the last time he felt your hand on his arm, your skin on his.

Maybe it wasn’t yours. Maybe it wasn’t your blood. Maybe you’d gotten one of them with your knife. He whistled for Dog and pointed to the blood spot. “C’mon. C’mon, boy. We gotta find her. Track. C’mon!”

A sudden rustling in some brush nearby and Daryl rocketed to his feet. A dark clad figure disappeared into the deeper shadow of the woods. “Dog!” He whistled again and signaled for Dog to follow, and they took off at a desperate speed. If you were nearby and injured, he wasn’t going to let this asshole be the one to find you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You pressed your back hard into the bark of the tree behind you. The bite of the ridges and edges barely distracted from the pain as you pressed the sterile gauze into the wound on your side with two fingers. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting down on your cheek in an attempt to stifle any noise that might escape you. Blinding white hot pain and then a deeper streak of ruby red exploded behind your eyes.

Daryl. Where was Daryl? You could still practically feel his arm beneath your hand. Roy had dropped, you’d scattered. He’d been right beside you… and then suddenly The Reapers were on you. You’d felt the icy cold slash of a knife in your side and then it was burning with heat. You’d thrown yourself farther into the trees, moving from the deepest shadow to the deepest shadow.

Behind you, a stick cracked in the deathly quiet and you stopped breathing. Your eyes flew wide open again. Your heart pounded. Your lungs were tight. You turned, angling your ear toward the sound. Someone was walking toward you. It sounded a little jolting, as if they were limping. You hastily pressed a gauze pad down over the packed wound in your side and tugged your shirt down again. It clung to your skin, soaked and sticky with blood. You gulped and gripped the handle of your knife tightly, holding it up near your chest, ready to use it, pressing yourself back against the tree.

The soft steps approached and then hesitated off to your left and you shut your eyes for a brief moment before deciding you’d better be the one to strike first. You gritted your teeth against the pain and leapt to your feet, throwing yourself around the tree trunk at the figure, your blade raised.

But it struck metal and ricocheted off. You nearly doubled over from the excruciating sensations rippling through you from your side. Then, you were shocked when the figure was supporting you, gripping your forearms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Shit, if it weren’t for my handiness with a goddamn crowbar, you would have just skewered me,” he exclaimed, helping you straighten up.

“Negan,” you said through your gritted teeth, clutching a hand to your side again.

“Yeah, unfortunately it’s just me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes went to the dark stains down the side of your clothes. You noticed his furrowed brow.

“It’s nothing,” you said, doing your best to stand up tall and straight again.

“Yeah, well, that nothing happens to look suspiciously like a pretty fucking serious injury,” he countered. “Or you slipped and fell in somebody’s bucket o’ blood. I wouldn't put anything past these freaks...”

You glared at him. “It’s not life-threatening, is what I meant.”

“Oh, so you don’t need blood. Okay. Got it,” he said sarcastically. “That’s a new one for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut against another jolt of that white hot and violent red pain bursting behind your eyes. “I meant—look, conveniently I was shot once in almost the exact same place, okay? I’ll be fine. There are no major vessels there and no vital organs,” you snapped back.

“Interesting,” Negan nodded. “I’m sure that’s a story I want to hear but now probably isn’t the time.” He gripped your upper arm again as you wavered a little on your feet. “Also, it should be noted that I consider all my organs to be rather fucking vital. Just so we’re clear on that.” You were too distracted by another wave of pain to scoff anything back. “Come on. We’ve gotta get the fucking hell out of here before these psychos find us.”

It was then that you noticed the binding around his leg. You’d be willing to bet no one had gotten away completely unscathed… if they’d gotten away at all. “Wait. The others—did you see what happened to them?” you asked.

His eyebrows lifted. “Roy’s definitely dead. I can tell you that much. That karma sure kicks in fast, doesn’t it? Come on.”

“Wait! No—did you see—did—”

Negan suddenly sighed and his shoulders seemed to sag at the desperate look on your face. He shook his head. “I didn’t see Daryl,” he said, his tone sincere. “But if I’ve learned anything about him over the years—it’s that he, out of everyone, will be A-fuckin’ okay.”

You swallowed at a sudden constriction in your throat. “Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand down again over your side. “You’re right. We have to get the fuck out of here, and fast. Can you do fast?” you asked him.

He cocked his head at you. “Can you?”

“I said I’ll be fine. Now, where the fuck do we go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Negan said. He started off away into the trees, a limp in his walk, and you followed after him, slightly hunched, still checking over your shoulder with a knife in one hand.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was nearly light out by the time you came on a dilapidated old house. But there was a solid door and most of the windows were boarded up and Negan didn’t like the gray tinge to your complexion or the cold sweat beading up on your face or neck. His leg also felt as if he was walking around with a giant splinter in the muscle. “I think this is as good as it gets. We better take a rest in here for a while and regroup. We’ve put a good amount of distance between us and that Halloween town.”

You shot him a look, and although you were exhausted and pale, it was still sharp. “Halloween town?” you repeated.

“Yeah, the hanging human piñatas, psychos in masks…” he said, limping up to the door and tapping on it with his crowbar. He paused listening for growls but it was silent, so he wedged the iron edge of the crowbar into the seam and pried. The wood sprung open with a crack.

“Could you not make fucking jokes? We have no idea how many of our people even made it,” you spat at him. You dragged yourself past him and into the house.

“I didn’t say it was a joke,” he countered, stepping in after you and pulling the door shut.

You sunk down against the wall, sliding down against your back, your eyes closed. “Jesus, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you muttered, your eyes closing.

Negan laughed. “No, not really.” He paused, taking in your slumped posture against the wall and the rusty staining on your hand that was pressed over your side. He turned and shut the door again and barricaded it with a heavy old oak desk. Your eyes opened again at the scraping sound and he glanced over at you once he’d finished. He twirled his crowbar in his hands and you could tell he had something on his mind.

You grabbed your pack and started digging in the main pocket again for your canteen. “What?” you prompted him.

“I didn’t really get a chance to thank you for the help in the tunnel—with that fucking behemoth of a walker. Wasn’t about to try and say thanks with the peanut gallery standing around,” he said. "SO, uhh—" he rubbed a hand over his short hair. "Thanks."

You sighed and shook your head. “Yeah, don’t mention it…” You unscrewed the cap of your water and took a long drink. You nodded at him. “Your leg. How bad is it? I’ve got a few supplies if you need to patch it up.”

His hand strayed over the scrap of fabric binding the wound. “It’s okay. I mean, it hurts like hell but—how did you put it? Non-life threatening. What about you?”

You replaced your canteen and rested your head back against the wall. “I’ll have to stitch it. But it’s fine.”

“I can help you with that. I’ve done a few—”

“Hell no,” you interrupted him. “I’ll do it myself.”

He let out a dry laugh. “What, worried that Daryl will find out I’ve had my hands on you?” You scowled up at him. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He flashed you a smile but your face stayed stoic. “Ah, come on. I’m kidding. That’s the farthest thing from my mind right now. …well maybe not the farthest but—”

“Negan, shut the fuck up! Jesus Christ…” You rubbed a hand over the clamminess on your forehead.

He laughed again and nodded. “Sorry. It’s a bit of a nervous habit if I’m being completely honest.” He sank down on a stiff-backed wooden chair in the corner, his leg stretched out and his hazel eyes fixed on you across the room. “I know I’m not your idea of a perfect traveling companion, but I’m on your team here. And to get ourselves out of this shitstorm we’re going to have to work together.”

You sighed again and nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

He seemed satisfied with that response and stood up, crossing the space to you and bending down. “Now, about those med supplies…”

_ _ _ _ _ _

That Reaper hadn’t found you, hadn’t gotten to you. But neither had Daryl. And now Dog was in the wind. Daryl had gutted up and found Dog’s trail. His hope was that Dog would lead him to you… or at least someone. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that spot of blood back by the road. He wondered where you were hurt, how badly… What if you were—No. No, that wasn’t possible. That wasn’t going to happen now. Not like this, after fucking finding you again after all these years, after you’d relit the spark in him that had all but gone out. You were going to be fine, and he’d find you. He’d find Dog, and then he’d find you.

In the distance; Dog barking. Daryl took off toward the sound.

But Dog wasn’t alone. One of them. A Reaper.

“Let him go,” Daryl said. His voice was gruff but also soft and tired. There was still danger underneath it however. The Reaper didn’t move. Dog sat calmly beside the figure. Daryl withdrew one of his knives. “I said let him go.”

The figured raised a hand and pulled off their mask and a fabric covering beneath. Daryl felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. His racing heart sunk into the pit of his stomach and stayed there, heavy like a river rock.

Leah. The Reaper was Leah.

Next thing he knew, he was at the end of the barrel of her shotgun again. And then it wasn’t just her. He was surrounded.

A burlap bag thrown over his head. Water poured over his face. And Leah… like a shell. Seemingly unmoved. Unfeeling. Indifferent. Cold. Her words rang in his head. “These people are my family. I came home.”

He was disoriented with the racing of his mind. How could she participate in this fucked up horror show? What the fuck kind of person was she really? Maybe he'd never known her at all... Clearly he hadn't. And yet he needed to convince her he wasn’t a threat, that he didn’t know fuck all about “those people on the road.” He needed to convince her that he still cared about her the way he had. On some level, he did still care about her... maybe that was stupid. It probably was. But this? These people? Killing anyone they saw for no fucking reason? Stringing up dead people on the roadside? This was insanity. This was almost inhuman.

And all the while, you flashed in his mind's eye. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

When they dragged him to a chain link cell, more like a cage, he saw the shape of you in the sheets beside him in his mind’s eye. When they pulled him out to question him endlessly, he heard your voice saying his name, heard your laugh. As he sat alone on the cold cement floor, he could imagine the feel of you under his hands, the shape of you, the taste of your lips, the smell of your skin and scent of your hair. As the water drowned him, pressing the burlap over his nose and mouth, he saw the sun shining off your hair as you grabbed DJ into a hug. DJ. Now he saw DJ too. His son.

When Leah came and talked softly to him in his cell, he forced himself to say things he didn’t mean, a nauseous churning in his stomach. His heart felt hollow as he tried to sound convincing. When the time was right, he gave her something. That’s when it started.

The fire came next.

Pope came after.

And Daryl was embedded deep, with only you and the rest of his family on his mind, even while he tried his goddamn best to make Leah believe that she was the only thing in this world he cared about besides Dog. It felt like willingly drinking poison.

A/N: I fucking loooove writing redeemed!Negan and was so stoked to have him and Y/N team up in this fic. He's just so damn fun to write, and something about the dynamic of him taking care of Daryl's love is achingly good and delicious. Hope you enjoyed so far! Can't wait to get you all the next update!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #the reapers #negan smith

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thetrashywritingwitch · 2 years ago

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Its 11pm I'm eating leftover chips and queso for dinner and imma just... here

There was that adult nerd streamer Katsuki from @willowser who is just chills in Kaminari's streams as a friend when they play but he doesnt stream himself, no social media presence, no name, just makes snarky comments in the group discord and leaves

Well you know how u can have twitch synced with discord so discord shows when you're playing a game etc? And you just stream for fun on the rare occasion you want company but you maybe have like 50 followers and chat is mostly dead and it's always the same like three or four people cycling through your twitch chat as you play

Now, Subnautica isnt really a horror game... but it can be spooky as all fuck and it's got some good jump scares. One of which made me shit my pants when I played bc I'm an oblivious fuck trying to ignore warning signs and just scoot in the water with my little water car thing

And this sneaky fucker Bakugo has seen you reply to his comments on discord, he gets the @ pings. And he sees you're playing a spooky-ish game and on a whim searches up the game on twitch and sorts by lowest viewers.

And of fucking course your discord name is the exact same as your twitch handle. And mr. Smartass just hops into your twitch chat

"Ok sooooo we are just going to ignore the uh, roaring noises... dont like those. Unimportant. We gotta find some gold I think..."

And his twitch handle is known bc tons of people watch Kaminari's stream and see his friends names and they all follow each other on twitch despite Katsuki never streaming himself. And everyone in your chat recognizes him as he just

:find any scary fish yet?

Ofc you're distracted because how the *fuck* did he find your twitch?! The discord connection just doesnt pop into your brain as you flip between the game and not ramming your seatruck into a rock wall and the chat.

And the distraction and his presence in chat is perfectly timed with your seatruck being snatched by some giant nasty mandibles and THISBFUCKER fills your screen

Under the cut for kinda subnautica spoilers

This nasty bitch right here. Hate this fish. Anyway you fucking scream and pause the game and nearly tip over your chair bc this fishy shit shakes your dinky little submarine like a dog ripping the stuffing out of a toy.

And the chat is keysmashing and posting laughing emotes bc you arent even at your desk anymore but the mic still picks up the "jesus FUCKING CHRIST what the FUCK gooood I haaaaaaate it..."

And on Katsuki's end, he's choking on his drink and cant remember the last time he laughed so damn hard and the timing and everything. It was the perfect moment for a twitch clip to immortalize it. He knows Kaminari's humor and his stupid jokes. Knows what to expect, but the genuine jumoscare moment as your mic peaked... honestly a twitch highlight for him.

After that he tunes into your streams when he can, sometimes silently so you never know he's there. Other times he speaks up in chat to link that clip and comment on in-game happenings. But your forever embarrassed bc damn what a first impression... but the stupid fucking fish was about 2% less scary after that so long as you know he's watching

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bnha drabbles #it me it was me i scr4amed at thr fucking leviathan what a NASTY BASTARD #nesrly kicked over my chair snd had a panic attack when it grabbed me thr first time #i plaued both games and jfc the reaper leviathan still scared me the most even more than ghost and shadow leviathans #nasty fish bad they have too many teethhhhhhh

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moonlithunter-writes · 2 years ago

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Turn & Terrify - Reaper x gn!Reader

Reaper froze at the sound of the name—that name he hadn't heard in years. The name that was no longer his. And spoken from your mouth, too. If his heart could beat, it would've missed one at the sound of your voice. He kept walking, but you called him again. "Gabe?" He spun, rage beginning to boil in his chest. "Don't call me that," he spat, stalking toward you and getting right in your face. The shock and fear in your eyes both twisted his heart, and brought a sinister sneer to his lips. "What happened to you?" You breathed. "You used to be so… good." "I'm not good, and I never was. You didn't know me," he said, enjoying the hurt he knew he was causing you. You shrank back against the overturned table, watching him warily. "So you still work for Overwatch," he mused, glancing around at the room he'd destroyed. "How has it been here?" "Better than it was wherever you were," you frowned, eyeing him. "What do you claim to know about me?" Reaper laughed. "Did you even know that I died?" "Of course, Gabe! I mourned you," you whispered. "I lost…" "What did you lose?" He hissed. "Tell me! What did you lose? Look at me now, look at what I am, and tell me, what did you lose, [Name]?" You leveled your gaze and stared directly into Reaper's eyes. "I lost the man I love." Reaper laughed aloud at that. "The man you love. You never loved me. You're just trying to waste my time." He turned and strode to the door, but your soft voice stopped him once more. "You're wrong, Gabe. I did love you. I would've done anything for you. But you're not the man I love anymore." "Gabriel Reyes is dead," Reaper agreed. "He died in that explosion." "No." You shook your head, your voice thick with tears. "I think my Gabe died long before that." Reaper didn't say anything more. He strode from the room, heading for Overwatch central command, and his every heavy footfall on the linoleum floor reminded him of the heart he didn't have, the one that couldn't beat anymore, but that once beat for you.

#overwatch x reader #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #overwatch drabble #overwatch #drabble #reaper x y/n #gabriel reyes x y/n #overwatch x y/n #reaper

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ryuzakemo128 · 1 month ago

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Hell hath no fury

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x female reader

Content warning: attempted murder, kidnapping, anger issues, mental health issues. Third-person perspective. No use of either y/n or you. Same reader from Grim Reaper series. Skin tone isn't mentioned. Nor will it ever be mentioned.

Words: 332

Masterlist

Credit for divider template: @cafekitsune

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: “Come a little closer. Closer. Closer.” Grim's hands reached his face. Cupping his cheeks. Pressing her forehead against his as if she had this moment memorised from the back of her mind. “Denial is foolish, as is the rest of you.” Her fingers pressed down upon his eyelids. “I will make you see.”

Her call sign is the 'Grim Reaper' among those who care enough to know her. To her enemies? She is also known as “The Iron Maiden.” For reasons, they will never get the chance to find out.

Covered in enough black ink, tied to classified information they could never hope to be able to reach.

Tied with people who are now long dead.

Her secrets are now long out of Kyle's reach now.

“Surprise bitch. I lived.” grim snarled, strutting across the yard as if she didn't just go missing in action for the past three years. Expecting them to glaze of what she called, 'a small thing.'

Simon wished he never saw it.

Soap screamed and ran to Price.

Kyle just stood there as if hell managed to freeze over in real time.

“Awe cute. Good to see you, too. Assholes.” grim rolled her eyes at their reaction.

Grim walked into Price's office. She had no idea why the fuck everyone around her was so spooked of her for. They were running from her like she had the plague or something.

Not fair.

She didn't plan to come back by herself.

They didn't come for her.

She deserved to be upset with them, didn't she?

“Come a little closer. Closer. Closer.” Grim's hands reached his face. Cupping his cheeks. Pressing her forehead against his as if she had this moment memorised from the back of her mind. “Denial is foolish, as is the rest of you.” Her fingers pressed down upon his eyelids. “I will make you see.”

The screams of the man's eyes getting taken from his skull in the recorded tape.

“I didn't kill the bastard. You should be happy. I provided an excellent service.” she purred. “I have him with me right now too. A blessing, I am sure of it.”

König. Her ex-husband delivered to Captain Price on his knees.Konig. Her ex-husband delivered to Captain Price on his knees. The thrill of getting what she wanted fuelled her ambitions like the raging fires of the sun.

#kyle gaz garrick x female reader #female reader #f! reader #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #imagine #call of duty modern warfare #Grim Reaper Series #kyle gaz x female reader #gaz garrick x female reader #fem reader #x f!reader #x f! reader #codmwii #call of duty kyle gaz garrick

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anynerd · 4 months ago

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Imagining a Filipino (🇵🇭) Grim reaper who's apart of the Management Division of the Grim Reaper dispatch, and sings in the karaoke in the bar where Grell, will, knox,Othello, and other reapers go to for a break, and them being surprised that they inherited a part of the "Filipino traits" of either singing(rlly good vocals, dancing, or plays an instrument

#Filipino fan #Filipino black butler fan #drabble #black butler imagines #grim reaper #kuroshitsuji x reader

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happyanderes · 1 year ago

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Kane and Kier are both reaper OCs of mine. And they both have their own stories and darlings (A ghost and a Reaper!), but they seem quite similar personality wise as well so, here’s a list of random hcs to separate them:

💛Kane wants a darling who is a good partner for him; which means someone who listens to everything he says, and gives him all the love and attention you can ever give. And he won’t be afraid to resort to punishments if you were to defy him.

💛Kier, however, wants a challenge, something to keep him excited and keep him away from boredom. So he would torment you nonstop, even after you snap. If you ever get to know other reapers(if Kier allows it), they’ll encourage you to spend more time with him, because a bored Kier is a dangerous Kier, he would actually set a city on fire for fun.

🖤This is an obvious one, but Kane prefers ghosts. Reapers are designed to be much bigger and way more stronger than souls and ghosts, so he can practically bully you into doing what he says just by towering over you. Or he can scoop you up with one arm. He also reminds you that he can send you to hell easily all the time to keep you in place, even though he’s too attached to actually do so.

🖤Kier considers ghosts as lesser beings, so he thinks the idea of keeping a soul is weird. He prefers reapers as partners, they’re more durable, as in harder to break, and more similar to him. Reapers have more similar back stories, so he has a sense of belonging. He thinks of you as an ally, someone to understand him and someone to be understood, even if you don’t really want him to break down your walls and dig all your secrets out.

💛Kane’s love language is physical touch. Your face, your hands, your waist, your hips. Whenever he’s at home, you’re either sitting on his lap or being carried around in one arm, no matter what you were doing before that. He would like it if you initiate touching him, just hold onto his fingers, or if you feel brave, climb into his lap when he’s sitting. He’ll drop everything and shower you in love, he won’t show it on his face but he’s melting and screaming in joy inside.

💛Kier’s love language is gifts, not anything fancy or extravagant, but just little charms he finds on dead bodies when he’s working. He’d give you (or simply hang them on your stuff) the ones that remind him of you. For instance, he got you one with a goldfish to make fun of your memory span, because you keep forgetting to read his messages. After he gives you the charm, he’d always say it’s because he’s going to “charm you”. From you he wants quality time, being in the same space with you brings enough peace to him.

🖤Despite his appearance and attitude towards you, Kane is a romantic, he likes cheesy movies and wants a happy life (afterlife) with his spouse. He tries to understand that you need time to accept him and your new (after)life, but if you get difficult he would lash out, it makes things harder for the both of you.

But he tries to be the best partner for you and often gets little gifts and plans dates for the two of you.

🖤Kier, while he is determined to make you his, he doesn’t care much about romance, he just wants to have you by his side all the time, do things he normally does. He won’t do anything big or extravagant, but he’ll remind you all the time that he’s loving you, that his actions are in the name of love, even when he’s doing something weird and dumb.

💛Kane has a house

💛Kier is homeless

The rest are some reaper lore and their backstories:

Reapers are a kind of species that reaps souls and determine where they go after death. Only people who killed people when they were alive , but only when it’s because they had no choice, or they weren’t taught right when they were children.

Reaper reader’s backstory will be revealed when Tomb much pt2 is out

Kane was a hitman for a local mafia back in the 1970s when he was alive. His father was one as well, so was his grandfather. Since he was little, he saw life and death as something normal, something small. But he always longed for a functioning family like he’d watch in the movies with his little sister. He was caught by the police and sentenced to the electric chair at 27 years old. So he’s actually terrified of electricity :>

Kier was simply a killer. He was abused by his drunk father, and at some point in the teens he killed him. His father had associations with loan sharks and when the loan sharks got in his house and were going to sell him away he used his advantage of being underestimated as a skinny kid and killed them as well. Until he was found and shot to death, the rest of his short life he had been hiding and stealing from others, he never felt guilt or attached to things anyways, that is until he met a certain someone after death.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere thoughts #yandere hcs #yandere headcanons #yandere reapers #yandere reaper #yandere fic #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere drabble #OCKane #OCKier

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valentine-cafe · 11 months ago

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. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ grim reaper x reader, cw: brat taming, rough sex ⊹ ۪ ࣪

deceptive grim reaper boyfriend who's all smiles and laughs. who goofs off and teases you with a bright light in his eyes. the same light that can darken oh so quickly when he sees you being a little brat.

oh but his smile does not fade. if anything it grows. his features remaining soft despite his eyes now roaming your figure. you'll never know what hit you. the 'precious' eldest son of the renowned reaper family who comes off as oblivious and innocent shows you anything but that in the bedroom.

he likes catching you off-guard, letting you believe he's just a softie. until he's driving your ass into his sheets with every wet slam of his hips. until he's squeezing at your thighs and littering bites with his rows of sharp teeth as he forces you to cum around the base of his cock. watching as you whine, whimper, beg for his mercy.

that 'precious' smile of his remaining still as he pinches your nipples, fucks you dumb on his cock and imitates your desperate little noises with his deeper voice. mockery, degradation, you name it.

"aww, yeah. forgot gege's in charge huh? think I'm just a softie hmm? uhuh, soft like this tight little body mngh. . . fucking brat, need to remind you a thing or two."

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🧁 ꒱ earth 9948e zhao jingyi ⊹ ۪ ࣪

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skyrigel · 3 months ago

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Simon ‘ghost’ Riley Masterlist

Serial killer!Simon x fem!reader [ 18+] violence, gore themes, sexual themes, possesive!ghost, blood.

Simon gets a call from sleepy!gf while he's at work.

Simon comes home to you, with bruised knuckles and a heavy smug grin.

Simon loves you but he has his own secrets, like the man in the basement.

Miserable! Simon Riley meets sweet! Missus

Clingy! Simon Riley wants your attention

Shy! Simon Riley meets pretty! missus.

Period rambling: Simon being best bf

Take a look at my gf trend with Simon [ 18+]

Simon who takes care of himself for you

Biker! Simon x wife!reader having riding lessons [ 18+ ]

Simon doesn't give a fuck but for you, he's a mother hen

Simon Riley and how I met your mother [ 18+]

Simon discovers Mrs.Riley's choking kink [18+]

Mrs. Riley is such a tease in her red dress, Simon teaches a lesson [ 18+ ]

Simon who can't say no to you

Simon being Sweetheart and Mrs. Riley being drunk in love ( crack drabble <3 )

Brother's best friend! Simon x f! reader [ 18+] one para → pinked

Simon who doesn't want a relationship but for you he might try

Simon who says no attachment... until you're sick [ Suggestive themes so 18+ ??? ]

Grim Reaper! Simon Riley x f! Reader

Drabble 1: Simon wants attention

Drabble 2: Who's the clingy one ?

Stay with me [ 18+ ] [implied safeword uses ]

Sleeping beauty [ 18 + ] Somnophilia (ao3)

Bet it does [ 18+] [ Overstimulation]

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clairdelunelove · 1 year ago

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badges of honor

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (sticker drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, protective!ghost

synopsis: ghost doesn't understand the appeal of receiving stickers, a tangible reward, after the completion of successful missions. never thought it was necessary for his efforts. however, his mindset changes when he finds out you're the one handing them out–

a.n. just a silly lil blurb that floated around in my mind for some time! decided I'd write it and I'm thinking about writing something similar for könig too! hope you're all well! and if you wish to show more support here's my kofi! <3

holding onto the belief that ghost would stubbornly swallow his pride and allow you to decorate him in cutesy unnecessary stickers.

it starts with price’s recommendation of implementing a routine of handing out stickers after successful missions. he insists it’s a great way to dial into intrinsic motivation. to keep the task force motivated to dedicate their best into every operation. a way to recognize positive behavior. a byproduct of hoping for the most favorable outcome in war where the only images are bloodshed, conflict, and hostility. it’s a stark difference. “who knows,” price’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug as he addresses the fierce group settled around him, “it might just help you lads.” it’s a harmless and cost-efficient idea to justify the boxes of tangible reinforcements that are shipped to the base. literal cartons of sticker books that range from the traditional ‘great work!’ to ‘prized soldier!’ and the notion seems childish (disguised to be more of a scheme, in all honesty). that is, until the pieces of sticky, illustrated adhesives start working– boosting the soldiers’ determination for the taste of victory– because you’re the one handing out the affordable versions of chest candy. they adore saccharine treats. and over time, so does ghost.

ghost who initially loathes the new process that price endorses. he’s good at his job. knows he’s an expert in clandestine tradecraft. doesn’t need a miniature label tapped on his chest to recognize that no one does a better service in infiltrations or sabotages in risky environments than he does. he’s in and out like a gust of wind. well, more similar to a grim reaper that takes and punishes whoever he deems fit. a brutish force not to be reckoned with. and he reasons that this little sticker ceremony ultimately wastes time. precious alone time that ghost exploits to catch up on some well-deserved rest or exercise. because training after an intense mission totally makes sense to the lieutenant. yet, he’ll doggedly line up with the rest of the task force and await getting crowned with the bane of his existence. doesn’t wish to stir the pot with price and sit through being lectured. so he stays. and he’s a bit taken aback when he catches a glimpse of you handing out the stickers; a beaming smile on your lips while you press an overly exaggerated thumbs-up design onto the front of a soldier’s vest.

ghost who rasps, “I’ll pass,” before your fingers can pin the sticker onto him. unaware that his voice would come out grainy from the weeklong mission and, involuntarily, blunt. brash. the complete opposite of how he wished to sound towards you. notices the surprise in your eyes due to the acidity of his voice and how you instinctively shrink from him. he shifts, straight away, and hastily tries to take back his tone of voice. to right his wrongs. to atone for his mistake. however, your nervous movement is swiftly replaced with your usual upbeat nature as you plaster on a grin and dramatically bring the back of your hand to your forehead to mimic a fall, “woe is me.” you exhale pointedly while mentioning, “whatever shall I do with all these stickers then?” and ghost understands that it’s so typical of you to hide your hurt with witticism. you’re too considerate. too bright. a touch of color to his monochrome soul. venturing a step closer to you, he lightly scoffs at your melodramatic behavior and remarks, “woe is most definitely not you. now get up, pup.” and before you can comprehend, his gloved hand wraps around your wrist to gently pry it away from your face. “changed my mind,” he murmurs while indicating to the book of stickers that you casted aside, “pick one f’ me, will ya.”

ghost who refuses to comment on your shaky fingers to save you from embarrassment. it’s endearing that despite the layers of heavy clothing, you’re still hesitant to touch any part of him. “you’re all set,” you quickly chirp before stepping back to admire your handiwork. or so you tell yourself that excuse. in reality, you’re teetering on the edge of becoming distracted by the heat that he radiates. and he savors how your gaze dances across his masked face but evades his intense eyes. the most profound part of him that reduces you to stumbling on your words like a drunk. intoxicated by him. it’s like he’s drinking you in and allowing himself a selfish taste of your beauty. a thought that causes you to heavily gulp. to take your mind off of the blatant yearning, you teasingly raise the sticker book up to him, “how about I add another one? this one has glitter—” “that’ll do,” ghost interjects and turns to leave. his immediate answer and retreat brings about a genuine laugh from your lips. it’s music to his ears. wagering a glance to his chest, he notes the sticker you chose for him. cursive letters twisting into ‘you’re a star!’ followed by a smiling gold star draws his attention. you don’t spot it but as he leaves, his gloved fingers reach up to smooth the sticker over his vest. to pat it down so it stays a while longer.

ghost who attempts to convince himself that his disinterest toward the small slips of adhesive paper is still the truth. they’re just for show, right? no one really pays attention to how some of the stickers varied in size. they’re all mature adults. and it was completely unrelated how there’s regular bickering amongst various recruits that compared their hard-earned rewards. doesn’t admit that his chest visibly swells with pride whenever the other soldiers point out that ghost always receives the biggest sticker. purposefully taunts them by stating, “get better then, yeah?” he also fails to acknowledge that you’ve coerced and conditioned him to accept them like a pavlov experiment. after all, your unwillingness to comment on how he noticeably leans over so you can put stickers wherever you wished must mean that it doesn’t happen. and in the scenario where it could perhaps occur, you shouldn’t blame him because ghost was certain no one else had the willpower to brush you away. you with gentle fingers and an angelic voice. singing him a siren song whenever you mutter, “for your excellent work, lieutenant,” as you smooth on another ridiculous sticker. his heart stutters in his chest when he feels how your hand tentatively flattens against his chest. the broad muscle causing you to hum appreciatively before gracing him with a coy smile. an interaction that replays in his mind whenever he’s awake and follows him to sleep.

ghost who clenches his fist so tightly that his blunt nails bite into his own palm when he overhears a lowly recruit outrightly insult the implemented routine. hears them utter (when you’re out of earshot of course because goodness forbid that they have courage) ‘bullshit’ and how you were ‘off your rocker for putting up with this waste of time.’ and ghost isn’t usually responsive in situations like this. he’s got a covert operation to focus on in about 15 minutes. a level-headed person was far more intimidating and efficient during classified matters. now, however, his heavy boots thud against the floorboards when he stalks toward the recruit. an abrupt wave of darkness and unabridged horror before the recruit is face-to-face with ghost. “problem?” he asks challenges, voice dead and devoid of sympathy. his head slowly tilts and the action creates a dismal shadow over the eye sockets of his mask. ominous and menacing. everything that ghost is infamous for. knows he’s won when the recruit’s apology is nasally and on the verge of crying but their reaction isn’t his personal interest. what he does undertake as his responsibility, though, is when he’s called into price’s office for a debrief. he pockets some of the miscellaneous sticker books that sit on the superior’s desk. wordlessly hands them to you when you’re both briefly passing each other in the hallway. and while you profusely thank him for the additional sets (vaguely wondering what caused the change in his behavior), you playfully press a sticker above the lower portion of his mask– right where his lips are. somewhere new. you leave him rooted to the spot, the sweet gesture sending him into a stupor, and call over your shoulder, “compensation for the stickers!” he watches as you hurriedly dart away before he can react but there’s no need. he unabashedly smuggles more stickers from price’s office in hopes of reaping a similar repayment again.

ghost who reasons that stickers aren’t that bad if you’re the one giving them out. he organizes himself with the rest of the force, a brooding figure that patiently waits in the back of the line. favors being the last one because you’re able to utter more than a few words of encouragement to him. if he’s lucky then you converse and excitedly share your day with him– like you currently are. “want me all to yourself, do you?” you heartily tease him upon noticing that he’s consistently been last in line for the third time in a row. he shifts on his feet, makes a show of looking around at his fellow team members that are filtering out of the room, and deliberately concedes, “‘suppose so.” his frank answer is followed by a flustered roll of your eyes but it’s the genuineness that causes your heart to flip. you force yourself to concentrate on the task at hand– giving out prizes. unsteady fingers lifting at the sticker page, you skim the options before spotting a perfect one. your teeth catch the edge of your bottom lip as you can’t help but question, “you say that to everyone, simon?” his real name on your glossy lips. a prayer that he desires to hear being chanted over and over as he holds you in his arms. the gaze he wraps you in is burning. tempting. exhilarating. you push yourself up on your toes to reach out and place a sticker on his cheek. on the hard shell of his skull mask that you’ve learned will ultimately end in halfhearted chiding because the adhesive is difficult to remove off of it. ghost catches a glimpse of the sticker that you’ve picked. the bolded words of ‘#1 lieutenant’ flashes at him. and the sticker is like a brand you’ve adorned him in. an embellishment that he proudly displays and wears because it’s what you’ve given him. he hums, dark and inquiring, when he leans to graze his masked lips against your inner wrist. his eyes are heady and half-lidded. clouded with a violent craving for you– always you. visibly strains to make contact with your exposed skin by tilting his head to place another chaste kiss on your hand while murmuring, “just to the sweet ‘n pretty ones that I fancy.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley drabble #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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nyashykyunnie · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Zayne x Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣 ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 038 ✦ ┆・

[ TW: Hints of Spoilers from Zayne's Myths and Dawnbreaker Anecdote ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Am I The Strongest? ] ¡! ❞

If you ask a bunch of people acquianted with Zayne, they speak nothing more than flattering words and praises.

Zayne is smart, he skipped several years in medical school and is considered as the 35th god of the students who pray to him three times for luck on the exams.

His colleagues adore him, sure he is a bit grumpy but Zayne is widely respected as a doctor worthy of his high position as chief surgeon.

Patients? Oh, they love him a lot. He is the most sought after doctor and people go to war just to book a single checkup with him. The children in the hospital loved hanging out with him simply because Zayne would give them some little candies here and there if they were good.

To you? He is this cute kitten trying to act scary. Strict? Of course, he scolds you about your habits often and would get visibly upset whenever you skipped out on checkups. Really, he cant take a breather.

He always looked out for everyone else, but really, who looked after Zayne?

Behind those closed doors, left alone with his painful evol that freezes him from the inside out— Who looks after him?

Astra's curse followed him everywhere.

A man forbidden to love, a man deastined to die the moment he lets his guard off or worse... The blood of his beloved would be on his hands.

The same hands he critically trained to save lives, the hands he brutally punished over and over with wounds despite his palms begging rest with their aches, the same fingers he swore he would use to protect everyone's hearts.

Your heart.

No, Zayne refuses, he will play this gamble over and over— He will always, always, keep you away from danger.

Even if it meant he dies along the way.

He would rather he doesn't exist in your life.

He will die with a clear mind so long as you are safe and sound.

No one needs to protect Zayne, he can do it.

It's alright.

He's alright.

Zayne is alright.

Even if his skin is growing stiff and hard as the white blades climbs up his limbs and threatens to swallow him whole. Even if it meant he is slowly going mad deep inside.

The worst thing that could ever happen to him is seeing his beloved suffer and he wouldn't be able to do anything to protect you.

He will beat himself up over and over.

Pushing hismelf to the limits, spending hours working, training himself as a worthy protector of you.

The you he so desperately tries not to love.

He knew deep inside that loving you will come nothing good, maybe it's because of the image of jasmine flowerfields that he dreams of. Somehow, deep within Zayne, he knew those pretty buds had a somber story to them.

He had an inkling feeling each of those delicate petals hold unshed tears and their stems are rooted on grief he can never understand or perhaps— There's a part of him that knew so well that his mind blocked everything out just so he could protect himself from breaking down.

Of course, those flowers aren't the only thing he sees in his dreams. He would often dream of a man, donned in black, his back long and poised but lonely.

... So lonely that he sees himself in that figure's shoes.

He could somehow sympathize with that stranger who never looked back on him, his heart would ache with an indescribable feeling whenever he sees that grim reaper.

Zayne could tell that man holds a lot of heartache and longing, and when he follows that grim reaper's gaze— It would always land on the image of your bright and blinding smile.

It only took that single moment for Zayne to understand who that man is.

Odd, isn't it?

The fact that there is a version of him that would still love you even if he could only catch glimpses of you in a fleeting dream.

Zayne can't blame that grim reaper, you were just so... Full of love.

Everything about you is just so adorable, from all your tanthrums, to your ridiculous schemes, and to your simplest days— He loved you so much.

Even if Zayne tried so hard to avoid those feeling fearing he cant protect, in fearing that he doesnt deserve someone like you— God,...

He just loved you so much it would be the death of him.

You are the poison he would willingly drink over and over even if he knew how agonizing it is.

Above everything else, he wanted to protect your delicate and small heart.

He wants to safeguard it, but fears that his hands and ice themselves could be the reason why you would die.

Just why is he so in love with you?

Why cant he control himself?

Knowing that this love can cause him his destruction, he cant help but devote all of him to you.

The turmoils in his icy heart, the secrets he keeps, the disturbing dreams he gets— Zayne will choose to bear them all alone.

Zayne was never perfect, he just worked himself to the bone and is extremely kind. He would rather shoulder all the hurt and pain than have anyone else have it.

All of the grief, the stress, the loneliness he personally subjects himself to,... It'll only be for him.

Not you.

Not ever.

The you he adores so much, the you who is the reason why he is doing all of this.

The you who he will love over and over even if he dies loving you.

He'll be strong for you even if he is cracking deep inside.

Zayne will continue being pretentious.

He'll keep his pain away from you.

You don't need to know any it.

Because for you, he will carry this curse.

The you who is his salvation.

꒰ A/N: Honestly idk what I'm thinking while writing this, I think I just want to emphasize just how much Zayne loves us readers ahhdhehr. He's just so full of love and he actively thinks he doesnt deserve its driving me mad. Everyone is in the Sylus boat and I'm here so hopelessly in love with Zayne. The lengths this man is willing to go through is not talked about. The pain he goes through with his evol and his disturbing dreams with Dawnbreaker as well as maybe Foreseer. I just love Zayne so much aaaa. This is also my very first fic of him so forgive me qwq!!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #zayne fics #lads zayne #lnd zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x you #l&ds zayne #dr zayne #li shen #lnds zayne

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jarofstyles · 2 years ago

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Reaper 2

We are so happy about the response we have gotten to the first part of this fic, this one has been one we’ve really been enjoying writing so it’s nice to know you are enjoying it as well :)

as always, please read all the warnings for each chapter of this fic as it is darker.

Check out our Patreon for exclusive writing and early access!

Part 3 of Reaper is available there now

warnings: stalking, talk of crime and gangs, misogyny, general dudes being assholes, talk of violence, gun and weapon mentions, etc

wc: 4.8k

What exactly did one wear to a clubhouse at 7 in the morning?

Y/N had packed in a hurry but she mostly wore black so it’s not like there was a lack of outfit combinations. She opted for something she’d feel comfortable in, pulling on a pair of tights to wear under her black slip dress. It made her feel pretty and that’s exactly what she needed to lift her mood today.

The weather was finally starting to get warmer out so her hand-me-down cut would do the trick. Sterling gave it to her when she turned 18, having put a massive bunny patch over the back of it and she’d been wearing it almost everyday since.

She even put on a pump-up rock playlist as she drove behind Harry’s bike. For some, it may be excessive, but she was actually really excited to see the infamous clubhouse.

She had heard about all the fun nights they had there, Sterling always sparing the intimate details because of club rules, but she knew it was because she was his little kid sister and always would be. The fact that Harry was taking her there made her feel like she earned it, but it was definitely because of the stalker problem. She’d still tell herself that though… for her own sake.

The clubhouse wasn’t so much a house as it was a warehouse, hidden by the outskirts of the city. Stepping out of the car the smell was the first thing that hit her. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but neither were bikers.

Harry’s face held a hint of amusement, making her feel a little warm. She obviously hadn’t been expecting this, but his never ending stare unnerved her.

However, the amused looked dropped when he stopped her before she even rounded the car. His face was deadly serious as he stepped in front of her, his broody energy back with vengeance- like he suddenly remembered why they were here.

“Please, Bunny. Listen to me in there. The guys would never hurt you. But they’re flirts and real assholes. Don’t take what they say to heart. Stay by my side.” He placed his hands on her jacket covered arms, initiating the touch first.

“Whatever we talk about in there? Know it’s in your best interest. They’ll think you’re a new girl coming in to fuck but I’ll make sure they know you’re off limits. Viper knows what went down, he has some suggestions. You’ve met him before.” Viper was a very scary looking man at 6’5, bulky muscles, full beard and covered neck to toe with ink. But he was a genuinely good guy. She had met him at Sterling’s family birthday party when he rolled up to bring his own present.

“Once the plan is laid out, we’ll let the rest of ‘em know what’s going down and they’ll be able to protect you. The guys with this patch-” He pointed to his cut where his Devil’s Keepers patch was. “They’re patched in and the safest. If they don’t have one, they’re a prospect. Being a bitch for us to prove they’re worthy of comin’ in.” He explained. She really didn’t have a clue, but luckily kept up.

“Be good for me, yeah?” His voice softened a little bit. To most, it wouldn’t be noticeable, but she noticed it. He wanted her to be good. It was something that felt like a goal. Be good and maybe get some more of this tone.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, giving him a cute but serious face to show she understood and was going to follow his directions. She could also tell that he liked it, the way his brows flickered and his demeanor shifted into something she had never seen from him. It’s like he didn’t expect her to flirt with him.

Hooking her arm around his, she let him lead them into the building where the stench intensified. A deadly mix of booze, sweat, smoke, and probably piss— how appealing. It would take some getting used to, she didn’t dare make a face though.

“Oh look what the cat dragged it, it’s the Reaper himself!” One of the men greeted loud enough for everyone to hear, a chorus of greetings following shortly after.

All eyes however were pinned on her, she could feel them all over her body. She wondered if it was just because she was hanging on Harry’s arm or if it was truly because she was new but nothing could have prepared her for the comments that followed.

“Got a new bitch, huh?”

“Never thought I’d see the damn day!”

“Sexy little thing, do a spin!”

“Show her off, Reaper!”

“Damn, the tits on that one. Want to come over after you’re done with him?”

Harry stood silently, eyes cold at the jarring. He didn’t like it directed at her. He’d killed men for less, despite her lack of knowledge. His jaw clenched tightly as he tried his best to not act impulsively. This was her, this was Bunny.

He snarled his lip and decided the gun would be overkill, opting for an out of character snap.

“Fuck off.” He growled. “S’fucking Bunny. Silver’s sister. Have some respect.”

Immediately the air turned cold, awkwardness seeping in. His breathing was heavier. Of course, he had tried to prepare himself for the parade of talk but it pissed him off regardless, pulling her closer to his body.

“Well, fuck.” A voice coughed out. It was truly a sight to see, massive bikers with scary auras looking like pups who just got in trouble.

“Yeah. Watch your fuckin’ mouths around her. She’s not a pussy for you. Not a hand on her. Goin’ through enough without havin’ to deal with shitty sex.” He narrowed his eyes, the warning loud and clear as his hand ran over her shoulder.

The Reaper didn’t bring women here. He only slept with fresh ones, but he avoided repeats and everyone knew that.

“They won’t bother you with that locker room shit again.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, anger still palpable within it. “Let’s fuckin’ go. Before I start throwing punches.” He felt the red behind his eyes and needed to get her out of there.

She hadn’t said a single thing since arriving, just looking between everyone with big eyes. Like a bunny. Y/N wasn’t sure how or when she got the nickname but it did fit her perfectly. She was very bubbly and jumpy, very fast. Even qualities like her blank stare or the way she scrunched her nose when she was unhappy.

Sterling was the one who started pointing her habits out, affectionally rubbing her head whenever she did something akin to it. So it stuck.

Following Harry down a dark hall with a flickering light, she felt a nervousness start to brew in her belly as the giddiness of the morning faded. They were here to discuss her stalker and the plan ahead. It was all starting to kick in. It smelt so dank, there must have been a leak in the wall but whatever it was, it didn’t make her feel any better.

Harry knocked three times on the large metal door, pushing it open with a creak and allowed her to step into the room first. He had his hand placed on the small of her back beneath her jacket, both for his comfort and hers. He could tell she was anxious, her slightly bent knee bouncing every so often was an obvious tell.

“If it isn’t Bunny and Reaper.” Viper was sitting behind a large Mahogany desk, hands behind his head as he stretched. “Get the fuck in here.”

Harry let her go first, the couch in front of the desk taking both of their bodies. He could feel how anxious she was and it made him sympathetic. It’s why he hadn’t brought her here despite her curiosities. His arm curled around the back of the couch, almost in a protective way.

“Wish it was under better circumstances.” Viper sobered up, hands clapping together on the desk. He was a very large man and intimidating despite Harry’s insistence he was a good guy.

“Now… Reaper’s told me about what he knows. Black truck with a large scratch. We’ve been putting feelers out for that, so we hope to have someone with information come to us soon. But until we have some solid shit, I think you know that staying with Reaper is the best thing.”

She nodded quietly, looking to Harry for reassurance. He offered a little by brushing his finger against her shoulder once.

“The thing is, we’ve helped people with scum like this before. He’s obviously ballsy to get into your damn house in the middle of the day. He hasn’t approached you yet which makes it tricky… but we figured we may need to lure him out.” Viper exchanged looks with Harry, nodding as he continued.

“We discussed last night… with protection of the club, of course, you’re gonna have to have a tail whenever you’re not with Reaper. One of the men will stand guard. It ain’t ideal, but it’s what we will do until we find the fucker.”

“Uh…” Bunny swallowed. Harry nodded again to urge her to ask her question. “Lure him out? How?”

This was the part Harry was dreading.

“Reaper’s going to claim you. You’re gonna be his girl, for all appearances sake. Make him think you’re dating.”

Dating? Harry agreed to this? For her safety? Could he act? He was going to give up his solo life for this? So many questions were popping into Y/N’s head.

“And having Harry claim me is meant to lure him out of hiding?” Bunny thought it was a fair question, thinking that if she was her stalker having Harry around would actually have the opposite effect. “You think the man has a death wish?” She asked with a small and awkward chuckle, trying to crack a joke to lighten the mood for her sake.

“And if the man is stalking me he knows who Harry is. He’s been by my house pretty regularly since Sterling left…. But then again what do I know about men and their fight for dominance.” She sighed, smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“The guy wants you to know he’s watching. He’s moving and taking shit on purpose. To me, it seems like he’s trying to talk to you silently. In his mind it makes sense.” Viper sighed.

“I do think he has a death wish, actually. Most stalking cases end in a murder-suicide. Not to scare you, though. We won’t let that shit happen.” Harry could feel her tense up at Viper’s words.

Despite his self control, he couldn’t help himself from trying to comfort her. His hand curled around the back of her neck and squeezed a little, trying his best to make her feel at least a little less tense. He was there. He wasn’t going to let shit happen to her.

“He’s going to want to let you know he’s there and you’re with the wrong person, Bunny.” Harry said quietly. “They get more agitated. It’s why we will keep someone on you at all times, so he doesn’t have a chance to get to you alone- but he’s going to be pissed and upset that you’ll be dating someone.”

Harry had thought about it long and hard over the phone call and the night before falling asleep. “If you don’t want to… I’m sure we can try and trace him in other ways. But we don’t think he’ll come out of his bitch hiding hole so fast if he doesn’t think there’s a threat to the end goal. He wants you.”

That was a tough pill for him to swallow. A crazy person wanted Bunny. Sweet, sensitive Bunny. He understood her appeal, all too fucking well… but that didn’t mean the man had to resort to stalking. He could man up and ask her on a date and her reject it- but he wasn’t right in the head.

Oh. Oh.

Clearly, she had no idea what stalkers were actually like. In her head, it was just some creepy guy who wanted her attention and went to great lengths to get it, which glosses over the true sentiment of the act. This man was fucking crazy. He spent 3 whole months watching her and coming into her room.

It was hitting her now, the realization of how scary it was. She had been creeped out before this conversation, sure, but now she was starting to feel ill as all the memories of the past three months began to be consumed by a cloud of grey. Every memory tainted by the fact that this creep might have been there watching her the whole time, trying to get to her, to do god knows what.

There was no way that she could go back home with that thought so present in her mind. This creep wanted her. So much so the club was convinced the man would take violent action against her.

Harry could feel the tension building in her neck, her heart beat so fast and hard that he could feel it even with his thumb just gently pressed to her skin.

“I’ll do it..” She cleared her throat, feeling a little bit of dryness in her mouth that she needed to clear before she continued. “But I want to make sure my ma is safe too.“

“Of course.” Harry nodded. “We’ll have someone stationed at your house and at the hospital. Put in a security system too. We’ve got to let her know, Bunny.” He murmured, looking at her with a sadness in his gut.

It was hitting her and he could see it. The way she slumped slightly and the bouncing of her knee started up again. The gravity of it coming into play. Of course- they could be wrong and the guy could fuck off. That would be the most ideal thing, even if Harry did want to send him down to hell. But it was doubtful.

“Reaper’s right. We take care of our own.” Viper patted his desk, looking at the poor thing. “Good news is? You’ve got us on your side. You’re the safest girl in the damn world with us with you. Especially Reaper.” He gave her a wink. “He can be a scary fucker.”

She’d never seen him in a situation that called for his namesake. Thank fuck. Harry knew she’d look at him completely differently with that. He was not the man she knew when he got pushed to his limit.

“Gonna make sure all the brothers know it too. I’m sure they’ll try their hand at charming you but you’re Reaper’s girl right now. Make sure you make it believable if he’s watching. You never know when he is…. Speaking of.” Viper looked over to Harry.

“We need your phone while you’re at breakfast. Wiz is going to check and make sure there isn’t any tracking software or bugs on it. Left it in the car, right?”

She had, despite confusion about Harry’s order. “Good. He’ll go grab it while we eat. Do you have any questions for me, little rabbit?” Viper asked. The more she talked to him, the more she got comfortable with him. He was on her side, thank god. She wouldn’t want to know how he would be if she wasn’t.

“Not at the moment, no.” She shook her head slightly, turning to look at Harry once again. It seemed like he was going to be her only comfort through this and she hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision.

Bunny could be a bit of a handful. He’d seen her in her bouncy state— talking at the speed of light, always up to no good. A handful, but a playful one. She was more worried about what he would think of her when she really let her emotions go.

Though he had known her for years and seen her in every state imaginable, he had yet to see her breakdown. She’d never let him see her be truly vulnerable or how she got carried away by her feelings. Y/N was only so strong, she couldn’t hold everything in for long and she knew he would get the worst of it now they were living together.

Normally she wouldn’t care, but it was Harry. Harry who she desperately wanted to impress, Harry who would now be giving her a taste of everything she’s ever wanted all for a stalker. She was scared she’d play the part a little too well.

There was no point in thinking about it now, the plate of food in front of her was enough of a distraction for the time being.

His arm stayed around her chair. The guys had the decency to look sheepish as they muttered their apologies but Harry was still not too pleased.

It wasn’t logical, no. He knew they didn’t know and it would be a whatever response to other girls who chose to come here and knew what they were walking into- though he wasn’t one to be a complete ass and talk about women the way some of them did. That didn’t mean it didn’t bug the fuck out of him.

It was Bunny. She was someone he was protective of. Even more so, that small seed of something else he was trying to tamper down didn’t seem to die, especially with the new development. He’s going to have to touch her, to hold her, to make it seem like they were a thing.

Living a fantasy until all this shit was over and he would let her go so she wouldn’t be wrapped up in the dirty shit that was his life.

“Eat.” He nudged her leg with his. “It’s good. Promise.” As unappealing as the clubhouse could be, the girls who worked the kitchen knew what the fuck they were doing.

It’s not that the food didn’t look good or that she wasn’t hungry— she was starving when she woke up this morning. Bunny was never one to turn down food, but the conversation they’d just had left her with little to no appetite.

Not wanting to seem rude, she took a fork full of tomato and eggs into her mouth followed by some bread, and chewed. It was delicious and spicy, just how she liked them.

“The girls cook these? Can I see the kitchen after?” She blinked up at Harry with big eyes. Of course, cooking would be what got her out of this mood, but he could tell there was still some residual anxiety creeping. He knew that would take a while to go away though.

“Maybe I can cook a meal for everyone soon… as a thank you for the hard work and stuff.”

“I’m not sure.” Chances are the girls wouldn’t be so nice. There were a few that were married to a few of the brothers but they didn’t come around all the time. Viper’s woman was someone he could see her getting along with, but the women in the kitchen were trying to become like one of them.

“I think maybe we’ve had enough of the clubhouse today. Can cook them something another time. I’ll let you do it by yourself.” He had already finished his food but he wanted to watch her eat a bit more.

Since it was obvious she was having issues, he took the fork with a sigh and picked up another bite. “Cmon. Eat a few more bites so you don’t pass out on me when we go to the damn store.”

Truthfully, he wanted to be a bit selfish and keep her cooking to himself. He wouldn’t, because cooking for people made her genuinely happy, but he didn’t like that other people would experience it.

“You can cook at my place, though. Whatever you want. I never use the kitchen so you’ve got free reign of it.” He was trying. He really was. Of course he didn’t want to say no to those pretty eyes, but she was already overwhelmed. She needed down time in a smaller, less overstimulating place. His place.

—

She could feel the weight being lifted off her shoulders the moment she left the clubhouse. As much as she hated to admit, it probably wasn’t the best place for her to be, but it felt familiar to her in a way that should be alarming.

Oh well. Right now, her mind was trying to focus on breathing regularly with Harry so close to her.

She was standing by the shopping cart, reading over the list off to the side when she felt his presence show up behind her. The warmth radiating from him created contrast between him and the chilly air of the grocery store, making her shiver.

“You cold, Bunny?” Harry whispered in her ear, slowly wrapping an arm around her in an attempt to provide some additional heat. He would be lying if he said this was part of the act, in all honesty, he wasn’t sure it was ever going to be an act. He’d deal with those consequences later.

He heard the catch in her breath as his hand splayed across her stomach, looking over her shoulder at the shopping list. He’d never held her quite like this before, but it seemed to be a way a couple would stand.

“Y-Yeah.” Her voice was slightly weak as she tried to gather her bearings. Harry was wrapped around her and she could feel his warm chest leaking through the fabric in the center of her back. The other part was cool from the leather cut, his hair tickling her slightly. “A little. I’m always cold in this store.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” The name dropped from his lips without realizing but it didn’t sound bad. It was what naturally came out. “We can go quickly.” His knuckles brushed over the material of her silk dress, loving the feeling of the softness against his rough hand. “This alright? Touching you?” He murmured against her ear. “Just testing it out.”

Also enjoying it. Sterling would kick his ass.

“Mhm…” Bunny was starting to realize this would be a lot harder than she thought. She could feel the way her body began to buzz at his words, his lips brushing the shell of her ear making her unexpectedly weak. They had barely even started this whole couple thing and she was already prepared to fold from a simple touch.

Not many people touched her like this, so delicately as if she was about to break. She hadn’t expected Harry of all people to have such a gentle touch, but today would be full of surprises it seemed.

“We just um… just the snacks left and we can go to check out,” Y/N confirmed, collecting herself so she didn’t seem as affected by it. “Do you want any other fruit while we are here?”

She was stalling. She knew he didn’t want any more fruit, but she didn’t want to move and didn’t want him to stop touching her.

“Fruit?” He chuckled under his breath. “Mm… no. I think we’re covered.”

The cart had every berry in there, with some apples, pears, bananas, and clementines. He’d thrown those in when he remembered her preference for those over regular oranges.

“Let’s get the snacks.”

He pulled off and let her take the cart, following close behind. It was going to be a lot harder to keep himself in check when now he was not only allowed but encouraged to touch her in those soft ways. Ways he rarely ever did with a woman.

Well, fuck.

—

Unpacking the groceries was a quiet and slightly awkward debacle. She was a bit uncomfortable and he could see it, making him wonder if it had been his stunt at the store.

She’d shed the jacket she had forgotten in the store and stood in his kitchen with her skimpy little silky dress that made his cock stir up, her hair flowing behind her back.

If she was really his, he wouldn’t let her leave the area without ripping the tights and coaxing a few orgasms just with his fingers- but she wasn’t. despite how his brain and cock were trying to fight one another.

“Y’sure what happened at the store was okay?” He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at her back as she paused from placing the snacks in the pantry. He’d try to help but he didn’t want to crowd her space. “Cause you’re being awkward as shit.”

“I am?” Y/N looked at him confused, of course, she felt the tension but she was choosing to ignore it. An attempt at tricking him to protect her truth. She felt like it would be more embarrassing to admit that she was still feeling the tightness in her stomach from how excited she was.

It was just a touch. But it was a touch from the one person she had been craving and this wasn’t the last. No, they had to do this in public all the time. Until the stalker starts making himself known.

“I would have said something if it wasn’t.” She reminded him, she wasn’t a stranger to speaking her mind. Y/N just couldn’t speak her mind about this without exposing herself and her 4-year long crush. “I promise I’m fine.”

His hands dropped from his pockets as she turned back to the pantry, avoiding his eyes again.

What was this about then?

He approached again, hands gripping her hips and turning her around so she leaned against the counter. “You’ve got to be vocal with me.” He rasped. “Need to know what shit you’re okay with and what you aren’t. Can’t have shit like this happen where you come home and act all distant when you were fine before that.” Fine was putting it lightly, but.

“For this to work, I’ve got to act like you’re my girl. And you know what that means, Bunny?” He tilted his head, stepping closer to her as she shook her head.

“Means I have to touch you. Get in your space. I’m gonna have to sweet talk you and pull your body into me.” He did just that. “M’gonna brush your hair back and get real close, and you’re going to have to act like you like it.” He crowded her back against the counter.

“M’gonna have to kiss you, too. Get handsy, once you’re comfortable with that. I need you to use your voice and tell me you can be a good fuckin’ girl and communicate this shit with me.” He spoke matter of fact, but he could see her pupils dilating.

Interesting.

“I won’t do any fucking thing you feel uncomfortable with. You’ve got to give me something here, babe. Not good with me grabbing at you, not good with kisses, let me fuckin’ know. I know you’re good at using that mouth to babble your head off, don’t go silent on me now.” He held the side of her neck.

“You get me? Tell me what shit you like. It needs to feel good to you.”

“It does.” She answered too quickly for her liking. He knew her so well, could read her like a book, he knew something was up but there was no way she was going to tell him. He’d just have to deal with her being quiet while she figured out how she was going to navigate it all.

“Can do whatever… I trust you,” Bunny couldn’t look away from him. The look in his eyes from earlier was back and she was worried if she looked away she wouldn’t see it again. “We can sell this. Trust me.”

She knew she wouldn’t have any problems with making it look believable, she was more concerned about him believing she was acting.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

It was really that simple. She wasn’t a dominant person, anyone could see that. Sure she had a mouth on her and a temper, but when it came to making moves, she only acted when she was certain she’d get a positive reaction. She didn’t handle rejection well.

“Good.”

He was still skeptical, but for a different reason. She had reacted… interestingly. It was something he would need to dissect in the coming days, but if he didn’t know better? He’d think she really enjoyed his hands on her.

She had sagged into him and kept eye contact. Despite being quiet, she had turned fluid the moment his hands touched her. Could she fake that reaction? Time would tell.

“Good girl.” His thumb gave two appreciative taps on her skin before pulling away, taking a step back. He didn’t want to, that little seed in him trying to push back against his logic, but he did it anyways.

“I know this shit is just hitting you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this son of a bitch is still out there and not 6 feet under like he should be for making you feel unsafe.” Harry murmured into the kitchen. “But you’re safe. You’re okay. No one is getting to you in here or while I’m around.”

It was the comfort she needed. At least, he hoped. “I’m going to grab a shower. I’ll do the dishes since you’re cooking.” With that, he disappeared into his bedroom for a breather.

How was he going to do this? To touch her the way his hidden desires have been craving and then have to give that shit up? Already his hands twitched by his side to go back and grab those hips. Pull her body into his. He couldn’t, though. Especially not now.

The poor thing was in shock. She hadn’t realized how serious this shit was until now and he understood it was scary for anyone- let alone someone like her. A bit sheltered. She had been protected forever. She didn’t know the evils he did. Hopefully, he could keep it that way.

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