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slut4thebroken · 10 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 10

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Jon let’s you go on a trip with him, then can’t control his weird, freaky sex fantasies lmaoo.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, consensual sex, attempted sex trafficking?? (but like not really?), fear play (but consensual this time), actually everything’s consensual this time lol, masturbation, voyeurism, bondage, degradation, verbal humiliation, praise.

Words | 4.2k

Notes | Kinky smut ahead! Beware😼 I really played into the “he hates everyone but you” trope in this chapter and I’m so here for it.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 9

“I’m going out to meet someone about something, I shouldn’t be gone long.”

“Oh… okay. Can I come?” He examined you and after a while you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze as you backtracked. “I- I don’t have to… I just,”

“Fine.” He suddenly said, making your face light up.

“Really?”

“Yes. Stop wasting time and get dressed or we’ll be late.”

“Sorry.” You hurried to change into your stolen clothes, looking a little odd next to him in a full suit. He instructed you to bring the wristband he gave you along with the gas mask and then you were leaving, walking along the docks closer to the water now. When he put his mask on, you did the same, not sure what to expect.

“No talking.” He said quietly when a few guys were in your eyeline. You nodded in response, following him until he stopped in front of the men.

“Didn’t know Scarecrow had a partner.” A man snickered.

“Yeah, who’s your pet?”

“Enough. Do you have what I need or not?” He snapped, voiced distorted by the modulator in the mask.

“We got it. But I think we might want a different form of payment now.” The man in front smirked, the other men muttering agreements.

“We had a deal.”

“Yeah well, our terms changed.” He shrugged, eyeing you with a grin that made your stomach twist.

“You’ll give me what I want and in exchange, you don’t want money, you want her?” He confirmed, making you stiffen. He wouldn’t… Would he?

“Yep. With a pretty thing like her, we’ll make plenty more than what you’re willing to give.”

“Fine. We have a deal.” You turned to him with wide eyes, silently asking what the fuck he was doing, but he didn’t even glance at you. The main guy motioned to someone behind him who walked away to grab something.

“C'mere, sweetheart. I wanna get a good look at you.” He sneered and your heart dropped to your stomach. Was he really going to do this?

“You can have her after I receive what I paid for.” He said sternly and as if on cue, the man returned holding a large briefcase. When the leader gestured, he handed it to the man by your side. He grabbed your arm and walked you closer to the men, making your heart rate and breathing speed up. Once he was in front of them, he pushed you forward and you landed against the leader with a startled grunt.

“We’re gonna have some fun with you before we start selling you, don’t worry.” He smirked, making your blood run cold. Hands were running over your body as all of the men focused on you. When someone reached for the mask, a cloud of his toxin was suddenly surrounding you, making the men cough as they staggered back. A hand grabbing your arm made you jump and you turned, finding Jon pulling you away from them as they started screaming.

You waited until you were back inside and he set the briefcase on the desk before saying anything. Starting with a shove, you ripped the gas mask off, letting it fall to the floor, then pushed him again, making him stagger back.

“You— dick!” When you tried to push him again, his hands circled your wrists in a bruising grip.

“Stop.” He warned, the modulator making him sound even more intimidating. “You’re mine.” He explained firmly.

“That’s supposed to automatically make me assume that you’re not going to do what you literally said you would do?” You hissed, voice shaking from anger that was concealing fear.

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asked, making you falter. He released your wrists then removed his mask.

“You scared me.” You whispered with a frown.

“I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact as you searched for any sign of a lie. “I had to improvise. If it’s any consolation, I’m planning to spend that money on a mattress for you.” He said softly, making your frown relax.

“I’m sorry I called you a dick.”

“You get a pass this time because I deserved it.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. “On the bright side, you seem to be coping with your fears much better now. Did you cry?”

“No.” You furrowed your brows at his words.

“How did you feel?” He asked, stepping into your space.

“Scared.” You whispered.

“Tell me about it.” He said lowly, eyes darkening with arousal. You swallowed thickly as you processed his request.

“Tell you what?”

“How it felt, what you were thinking. Tell me how scared you were.” He rasped and you could feel arousal pooling in your stomach from his tone.

“I- I was shaking… and nauseous. I thought you- you… I didn’t want you to leave me with them.” You whimpered, giving him a pout that had no visible effect on him. “The last time I was that scared was when you used the toxin on me.” You whispered. He was suddenly pulling you into a kiss and you let out a startled moan as you landed against his body. He walked you back until your thighs hit the desk, then lifted you onto it, never breaking the kiss. Placing your hands in his hair, you pulled, making him groan against your lips. When he pulled back, you let out a low whine, trying to lean forward to chase his lips, but he stopped you by putting a hand on your neck.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the question. When you nodded, he tightened his grip on your neck.

“Yes.” You quickly corrected yourself. He set the mask next to your thigh on the desk, then brought his hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand near your face. Making sure you were watching, he placed his fingers only centimeters above the lever on the wristband he was wearing. You stiffened, swallowing thickly against his hand as you eyed the threat only inches from your face.

“Are you scared?” He asked quietly, making your eyes snap to his. Despite the very obvious threat, you knew that he wouldn’t do it, especially because he wasn’t wearing a mask.

“You wouldn’t gas yourself too.” You tried to sound brave and confident, but the tremble in your voice was obvious. His lips curled into a small smirk, making your stomach twist.

“Smart girl.” He picked up the mask and put it on, then moved his hand back in front of your face. “What about now?” Your gaze moved between his hand and the icy blue eyes through the small holes in the mask. Even though, logically, you knew he wouldn’t because he told you before he couldn’t even if he wanted to… the threat was definitely still there. But instead of the nauseating twist, your stomach was twisting in a different way. A way that made your skin flush and your core ache.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Do you want me to stop?” Your cheeks heated up and you looked away from him, embarrassed.

“No.” Your voice was barely audible. The low chuckle he released behind the modulator made you shiver, not used to hearing something so ominous. He suddenly stepped back and you almost whined at the loss of his touch.

“Strip.” He ordered, making your eyes widen. You tentatively slid off the desk onto the floor, then started undressing. Once you got to your underwear, you hesitated, but when he didn’t do or say anything, you slid them down your legs with a blush. “Sit on the desk again.” You obeyed and he stepped between your legs once you were seated, then placed his hands back the way they were, one on your neck, the other in front of your face.

“Touch yourself.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him in surprise. When he moved his fingers closer to the lever though, you immediately brought your hand to between your legs. Staring through the holes in the mask, you watched as his eyes trailed down your body, focusing on the way you were rubbing your clit.

“You like this don’t you?” He asked curiously, making your face flush. “Being at my mercy… Feeling humiliated, vulnerable.” He elaborated. “Knowing that what happens to you is under my control. It scares you, but it also excites you.” Letting out a shaky breath, you rubbed your clit faster, already feeling your orgasm growing. “I could use this at any moment and you’d have no choice but to take it.” You eyed his hand for a moment before looking back to his eyes.

“Jon,” You whispered, voice barely audible.

“No. Scarecrow.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that request at all. “Say my name again and you’ll be punished. Understand?” You nodded, feeling breathless, but his hand tightened on your throat in a warning.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Scarecrow.” You whispered, cheeks flushing at the unfamiliar name for him.

“Good girl.” He muttered, making your breath catch in your throat, still barely used to such praise.

“Can I come please?”

“You think you deserve to?” You could only stare into his piercing gaze for another moment before you had to look away.

“I- I don’t know.” You whined. When he suddenly stepped back and let his hands drop to his sides, you let out a heavy breath.

“Get up.” He ordered as he started removing his tie. You obeyed and waited eagerly on shaky legs. “Turn around.” Once you were facing the desk, he pulled your hands behind your back and restrained your wrists with his tie.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, voice no longer distorted.

“Please don’t stop.” You whispered. The thought of him stopping was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“God you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” His mask was back on now, modulator distorting his voice, making him all the more intimidating. He suddenly fisted your hair and yanked your head back, pointing the wristband at your face as he held you still. “I bet you want me to use this on you.” He snickered and you did your best to shake your head as you whined.

“What was that?” He used his grip on your hair to push your head down and then back up, as if you were nodding. “‘Yes, scarecrow’? If you insist.”

“N-no,” You whimpered, pressing your body against his to try and escape the gas that could invade your senses at any moment.

“No? I don’t know… Seems like you want it.” His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing tightly and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want just a small taste?” You could barely hear him behind the mask, even with his lips so close to your ear.

“Please…” Your voice trembled in fear, but you still ached to keep touching yourself.

“What if I said the only way I’d fuck you is if I got to have my fun? Are you desperate enough to sacrifice your sanity, my love?” You whimpered and squeezed your thighs together, just needing him to fuck you already.

“Jon…” You whined, pushing your hips back into his, but his hand on your neck tightened significantly and he let out a low growl.

“What did I say?”

“I- I’m sorry! Scarecrow! I meant Scarecrow— Please, I’m sorry.” You rushed out, worried you had pushed him far enough to follow through on his threat.

“Poor thing…” He cooed mockingly. “You touch yourself for only a few minutes and already you’re too dumb to follow a simple order.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried, tears welling in your eyes, but from humiliation of the situation and his words, not because you were genuinely upset.

“What do you think you’d see? You said you’re not scared of me anymore so what would you see, little one?” The hand with the wristband remained by your head, which made you stay planted to his shoulder. The other started dragging down your body, over your sternum, to your stomach, then teasing your thighs.

“I- I don’t know…” You whined, squirming to try and get his hand where you wanted it.

“No?” You shook your head with a whimper and his hand snaked back up to your stomach, teasingly rubbing the soft skin. “You don’t think you’d see yourself with my child? After all, a come hungry whore like yourself is bound to get pregnant at one point or another. It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?”

“J- …Scarecrow,” You whimpered, writhing against him. “Please.”

“Please what? Find out?”

“No! Please— please fuck me.” He suddenly removed his hands from your body, then pushed you over the desk. Grabbing your hips, he pressed his covered bulge against your ass, teasingly grinding against you, making you even needier.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes,” You gasped out, pushing your hips back against him. He pulled back and you were about to complain, but quickly shut your mouth once you heard the rustling of his clothes as he freed his length. He swiped the head through your folds, making you jump at the sudden pleasure.

“Beg.”

“Please, Sc- …Scarecrow.” You whined, embarrassed. When he remained silent, you whined even louder. “Please! Please fuck me!” He relented and you choked on a gasp when he applied more pressure until the fat head of his cock was breaching your hole. He didn’t stop until his hips were flush to your ass, feeling so incredibly deep that you couldn’t tell if it hurt or not.

“Fuck— oh my god.” You whimpered, clenching your fists behind your back as you struggled to adjust to his size. The low, distorted groan from behind you made you shiver. “Please!” You cried, trying to wiggle your hips under him. He slowly dragged his length out, then pushed back in at the same speed, maintaining that rhythm.

“Shh, just take it. Be a good little flesh light, close that fuck hole, and just take my cock.” Despite the warning, your mouth remained open, loud moans slipping past your lips as your walls fluttered around him. “That’s a good whore— shit… Making me feel so good, little one.”

“Oh god- please,” You sobbed. He sped up a little, grabbing your hips tightly and holding you still as he rocked into you. “Faster.” You said through a moan and surprisingly, he obeyed. He sped up even more, pulling you back by your hips with each thrust until you were moaning uncontrollably and babbling out senseless pleas. He suddenly leaned over your body, his cock pushing against your cervix almost uncomfortably as he kept thrusting.

“Can you hear how wet your fucking cunt is?” The distorted voice right next to your ear made you shiver as you let out a quiet whimper. You could hear it. The sound of your wetness was almost deafening, even with your moans and the sound of his hips hitting against your ass. “Such a fucking slut getting off on me threatening you.” As your knees buckled and weakened, you were glad the desk was holding your weight up.

“You want it, don’t you? You want it so bad, your pussy is practically drooling for it.” He suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, aiming the wristband on his other hand at your face again. You let out a loud moan and he chuckled quietly. “Fuck- your pussy squeezes me so tight when I do this. How’d I get so lucky, huh? I mean, I have my own personal whore at my disposal. And not only is she desperate for my cock, but she’s desperate for my toxin as well.” You whined and shook your head, the humiliation and pain on your scalp making the tears in your eyes threaten to fall.

“No..”

“Yes.” He said simply. “You can deny it all you want, but your body knows what it wants.”

“Scarecrow,” You sobbed, quickly approaching your orgasm.

“I know, little one. It’s okay.” He cooed, moving his hand to your neck and lifting your torso off the desk, making you put your weight on your shaky legs. “Are you close?” You nodded rapidly with a loud moan as he kept fucking you, his cock feeling so much deeper in this position.

“I’m going to count down from ten. If you don’t come, I’m going to use this.” He moved the hand with the wristband to your eyeline to make sure you knew what he was talking about. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.” You whimpered. He sped up his thrusts significantly, making your release a startled moan.

“Ten.” His hand on your neck tightened, making your head feel light and floaty from that and the pleasure. “Nine. Think you can do it little one?” You nodded with a whimper, already feeling incredibly close now. “Eight.” Through the modulator in the mask, you could hear the way he was starting to breathe heavily, nearing his own orgasm as well.

“Seven… God- maybe I should just use it anyway. You’d look so pretty coming on my cock as your fears consumed you.” He said quietly, making you let out a choked sob.

“Please.” You cried.

“Six. Do you want that, pretty girl?”

“N-no.” You whimpered, but it wasn’t believable when you moaned before you could even finish getting the word out.

“I think you do… Why else would you be squeezing me so damn tight? Five.” His thrusts turned frenzied as his own orgasm grew even closer. “I can’t wait to feel you milk my cock while you scream and writhe in fear. Four.” Even though you were still mostly sure he wouldn’t actually gas you, the more he spoke, the less confident you felt in your answer. Regardless, it was hard to focus on— hard to care— with his cock pistoning in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Three. I hope you’re close.” You nodded as much as you could with his hand on your neck. “Yeah, I can tell. I can feel it… Two.” Your breathing grew rapidly, from fear or arousal you weren’t sure.

“Ready?”

“Please— please, oh god.. please let me come.” You cried, trying to make yourself come, but struggling without his explicit permission.

“One. Come, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock like your life depends on it, because it does.” You let out a loud sob that turned into a moan when the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped. He fucked you through it, hand tightening on your neck as he held you close, fully pressed to his body. “That’s it. Do a good job and make me come.”

“Oh god,” You sobbed walls fluttering around his length, making his hips stutter. “Please- please come. I need it… Need you to fill me up.” You whined as the tears in your eyes finally started to fall. They weren’t from fear, but rather desperation with a hint of overstimulation as you came down from your orgasm. His hand moved from in front of your face to around your stomach, pulling up against his body as he rutted into you eagerly.

He stilled with a low, distorted groan and you could feel his cock twitching against your walls as he obeyed your request. You panted heavily, doing your best to ignore the new fire growing in your belly as he moaned and whined, trying to bury himself even deeper in your warmth.

When he finally stilled and his moans died down, he removed his hand from your neck and wrapped it over your chest, still holding you against him.

“Jon?” You asked quietly, making him startle as if he forgot you were there. He took the mask off, then pushed your hair behind your ear to place a kiss on your neck.

“Are you okay?” He mumbled against your skin, both of you still panting.

“Better than okay. But if you let me go, my knees are going to give out and I’m definitely going to fall.” He chuckled quietly as he stayed buried in your neck for only a moment longer before reluctantly pulling back.

“Let me help you onto the desk, then I’ll carry you to the couch, okay?” You nodded and he maneuvered you to sit on the desk, both of you wincing when he pulled out. He settled between your legs then reached around behind you to undo his tie. “I wasn't too rough?” He discarded the fabric on the desk then lightly grabbed your wrists to pull them in front of you and massage them gently.

“I loved it, Jon. Honestly. It was perfect.” He didn’t respond and instead just wrapped your legs around his hips to lift you and carry you over to the couch. He gently laid you down then took off his shirt and pants, laying them neatly over the back of the couch. When he grimaced as he started tucking his softening cock, still wet from your arousal, back in his underwear, you stopped him. You moved forward enough to wrap your lips around it, moaning at your combined tastes.

“What— oh fuck… What are you doing?” He asked, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock. After a few more licks, you pulled back, giving him a saccharine smile.

“There. All clean.” You said, tucking his semi back in his underwear.

“Tease.” He muttered with a small smile, laying down and pulling you into him. He was quiet for a while as he stroked your hair and let you trail your fingers over his torso, but eventually he broke the silence. “Are you sure it was okay? I didn’t mean to do all of that. I- I shouldn’t… have done all of that. Not when you were on the verge of tears after what happened.” Honestly, you had forgotten about what happened until he mentioned it. You leaned up so he could look into your eyes as you spoke.

“I loved it, Jon. We’ve never.. done anything like that,” You meant the consensual part of consensual non consent, “and I really really liked it. It was fucking hot.” He didn’t react to your confession as he studied you carefully, searching for the hidden truth behind your words. “And honestly, you made me a little curious about how your toxin would affect someone who’s that horny. Almost enough to make me want to try it.”

“Are you mad?” He asked in disbelief, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“I- I just… It would be interesting to study, don’t you think?” You said sheepishly, feeling more foolish the longer he looked at you like you truly belong in Arkham. “Sorry… Forget I said anything.” You laid back down, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“I was only referring to you wanting to try it yourself.” He explained. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It was stupid anyway. I’ll leave the sciencey things to you from now on.” You tried to lighten the mood, but your tone didn’t convey the lightheartedness you meant for it to.

“Would you like to be involved in the.. sciencey things?” You were only mostly sure he wasn’t making fun of you. “You can’t help with the chemistry behind it obviously, but if you want to be involved in the rest, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I- I don’t know… I didn’t handle myself very well tonight. It’s probably not a good idea.” You muttered despondently.

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded in response. “Was that the first time you’ve ever attended an illegal deal as a fugitive?”

“…Yes?” Obviously it was.

“That is my point. You’ve never done anything like that before, of course you didn’t handle it very well.”

“Oh. Yeah I guess that’s true.” You trailed off into silence as your thoughts consumed you. Should you? It sounds… not necessarily fun, but like it could be something you wouldn’t exactly hate. You’d get to spend more time with him too.

“Think about it for a while.” He said, dragging you out of your thoughts.

“Okay.” You sighed. Then, “Jon?” He hummed, telling you to continue. “Why did you take off your clothes when you were already dressed?” You asked, continuing trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You didn’t mind it— not even a little bit. You were just curious.

“I assumed you’d prefer it.” He said simply, minding his tone.

“Why do you think that?” You asked, then, “Not that you’re wrong— I’m just wondering.” He let out a quiet sigh and you laid your palm flat against his chest to feel his heart that was beating only slightly faster than normal.

“Because I prefer it.” His heart pounded faster and harder, but so did yours. “It’s different like this than being dressed.” Jealously, you wondered who else he’s laid like this with. Surely with any previous girlfriends, maybe even his mom. But at the same time, you’re not sure if you believe that. The way he expresses physical touch is almost awkward, unpracticed, as if he doesn’t have any previous experience laying with anyone but you. While the thought made your stomach flutter, it also made your chest ache with sympathy. “Falling asleep on me?” He suddenly asked.

“No- sorry. Just thinking.” You said quietly, picking up the motions of your fingers against his chest again. You couldn’t believe that Jonathan Crane— the Scarecrow— was such a softy. But not just a softy in general- only for you. The thought was enough to make you almost nauseous with butterflies.

Part 11

Taglist

@arcanebabe @quietnymph11 @dynamitehacke @pedrisgatorade @mandowhatnow @thefandomdiaries07 @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @mrkdvidal1989 @nx-0w @yrluvvr @arieslost @some-clever-username @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @geekmom3 @pleasant-meadow (didn’t let me tag —>) @imlikefrhungry @melanieani @oopy @slay-walker @annalauras-stuff @anakin-dilf @riddler-zs @tumblin-theworldaway @fire-treasure-iii @ephiiphanyy

#exposure therapy #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow

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vaporwavebeach-writes · 8 months

Text

Kinktober Day 6 (Dubcon)

Harry Warden x Reader (NSFW)

(773 Words)

Summary: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, EXTREMELY dubious consent (like seriously), dead dove do not eat, descriptions of violence, guilt, confusing and shameful feelings, reader is a little delirious from the mining fumes, fear play (kinda), penetrative sex, Harry Warden being scary, coming on clothes, pickaxe threats

Notes: this one was a little tough to write, but I’m proud of how it turned out :) I’m starting to near the “oh man, I’m running out of inspo” phase, but fuck it we ball, we’ll push through LMAO enjoy the fic!!!

There was no time to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been running and you didn’t know where you could even go. These mines were like a labyrinth. The air became lighter the further down you ran. Exhaustion and gradual decrease of oxygen quality makes for a deadly duo, but you couldn’t think about that now. All your friends were dead- at least, that’s what you’ve begun to accept. Reaching another dead end in front of you, the heavy footsteps of the murderous miner pounded in the distance.

Back against the wall, you sink to your feet, feeling utterly helpless. Around the corner of the darkened mineshaft, Harry Warden- the urban legend of the town, stalks into view.

As he creeps closer, his bloodied pickaxe comes into view. You remember just an hour ago, how it swung into skulls of your peers. The screams ring out in your brain. The image of the light leaving their eyes as blood and organs pool around you is forever etched in your memory.

You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, the collar of your shirt crumpled between his gloved hands. You can’t see anything at all behind the vacant, blacked out eyes of his dust mask. The wind is knocked out of you as he slams you against the jagged walls of the tunnel. You’re forced to deeply inhale the noxious fumes of the mine, making your brain go hazy as the miner’s hands grip onto your waist, traveling under your shirt.

You let out a soft gasp that weren’t entirely sure was out of fear or arousal. You’ve been running in these mines for so long, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. On one hand, you felt scared, alone, traumatized- definitely in need of some therapy after a situation as dire as this, wanting nothing more than to push him off you and run out of the tunnels. On the other hand, you were feeling utterly amorous as you allowed yourself to get felt up and groped by a pickaxe-wielding maniac, morbidly curious to see how far you were willing to go.

Your brain was running itself completely ragged. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Maybe the poor air quality and fumes were messing with your head- scrambling the terror and confusion and adrenaline and lust that were fighting over how your body should be reacting.

You could hear heavy grunts and muffled breathing through his mask. He was impossibly close to you, the heat of each other making the already compact mining tunnels feel like a pressure cooker. The unintentional (or was it?) friction from one another distracted you from your thoughts. It didn’t feel right to enjoy this, especially after witnessing something so violent and grotesque, but that didn’t matter once Harry Warden unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock.

As you felt your pants being forced down, you attempt to push off the walls, but are met with his pickaxe- dripping with that fresh crimson, to the side of your neck.

You stare at him, terrified, yet exceedingly desperate. “I don’t want to die.” You whisper.

Harry reels back, swinging the pickaxe. You violently flinch, shrieking in terror as the pickaxe is wedged into the wall beside you. Before giving you any time to settle from the fear, Harry Warden pushes himself inside you, dripping and eager.

You wail in ecstasy as his cock pumps into you so quickly. You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. The strangled groans from inside his mask burrow their way into your mind, mingling with the screams and pleading from your friends being violently murdered. It scared you to know how aroused you were. Your friends were dead and here you were, getting fucked stupid by the man who killed them. And you liked it.

Your orgasm crashes into you, powerfully and unexpectedly. You shudder around the miner, who sloppily continues to thrust into you, not far behind in his own release. You could now add cum to the blood and dust that stained your clothes as he shoots his load onto you.

Your tainted clothes were the least of your problems now compared to your tainted mind. The thought of what just happened finally begins to sink it. You weren’t scared or disgusted, but were more so scared and disgusted at the fact that you didn’t feel like that at all. You didn’t know what would happen next, but there was one thing that you would continue to tell yourself for as long as you had left to live: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #harry warden x reader #harry warden smut #harry warden imagine #harry warden x you #slasher x reader #slasher smut #slasher imagine #slasher x you #mia writes horror!!!

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atinylittlepain · 2 months

Text

Ptolemaea - the Prologue

rust cohle x f!oc

series masterlist

the case was closed and they parted ways. but time has a way of eating itself, and turning back to where they began.

series warnings | 18+ smut, dark themes surrounding crime investigations including murder, child abuse, religious trauma and corruption // marital infidelity, boy-man go to therapy challenge, familial trauma

wordcount | 2.5K

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“We’re not doing this if you’re on something right now.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“My point stands.” There’s a heat, a heaviness that passes from skin to skin when he steps closer. Familiarity, and a surprising openness when he widens his eyes and lets her look for the swim and spread of his pupils. She doesn’t find it, only an unwavering stillness, his eyes that won’t leave hers even as she holds the hilt of his jaw in her hand and turns his face this way, that. The slightest curl of her fingers into bone stitching to feel the way he’s grinding his teeth, waiting for her with a thin patience.

“Am I sober enough for her righteousness?”

“What have you been taking?” She rubs her thumb over the knot of tension that furls high in his cheek, jaw stilled, and she knows she’s flirting with the thin line of too much, of him flinching and flickering away. But he stays for now, still held in her palm, mutters a low answer to her question, usual stuff, nothing new.

“Are you sleeping?”

“When I’m not sober, sure.” Half a smile pulls muscle taut, his words cracking and shimmering in that slow, low melt he tends to. It has taken work, practice, for him to be so quiet, so slow, she knows. She’s heard him get loud, get quick, and she thinks that is his more natural state, distilled. He’s a man who’s meant to be a hair, a tooth, a nail out of control, and he muscles all of his effort into avoiding that, when he can.

“Marty said you showed up drunk to his house, again.” And he doesn’t like that, finally too much, shaking his head out of her grip, curled honey hair slipping sweat damp into his face. Livewire man, all shock and simmer.

“He keeps inviting me to dinner. You’d think he’d learn not to do that by now.”

“He’s trying to be nice, Rust.” And he is, she knows that. Marty trying to extend an olive branch, an anything that might get Rust to soften. She had told Marty to forget it after he told her about the last dinner attempt, a worn down and wan Rust showing up with an unfortunate sway in his gait and a thousand-yard stare that turned dinner as silent as a funeral. He seems easy enough around you though, and she had schooled her face at that comment, no chance to respond anyways as Rust sat down at his desk alongside them.

“Don’t have much use for nice, do we?” That we is everything, she knows. Rust has decided she is like him, and she can’t really argue with that. Something beneath the skin, more animal than human, a shared grief understood, similar but parallel. At the very least, she thinks she understands him. At the very least, she lets him think he understands her.

“If you want this case to move you’re gonna have to throw him a bone. He doesn’t trust you, thinks you’re weird.”

“Weird.” A little flicker of amusement as he steps back into her orbit. She doesn’t flinch, gives nothing away when his fingers press into the nape of her neck, sticky heat blooming beneath the skin.

“You smell.”

“I mowed your lawn.”

“And you smell like it, come on.”

He would never admit it, but she’s near certain he continues to show up on Sundays because he knows he’ll get this. Care, simple and plain and without expectations of what that care means. They get into the shower, wordless, body knowing body, making space for body. She places index, middle, and ring over the three raised snarls of skin along his ribs, presses in just a little until he grunts, makes it hurt just a little, catch and release, a sigh when she smooths her palm over tan, wet skin.

She makes him smell like her, soap and shampoo and enough pressure behind her hands to make muscle move, to make his eyes heavy, watching her work with his chin tilted down. It is some of the best silence she gets from him, the gentlest she gets from him when he returns the favor, a particularity in his hands. Something aches inside of her when he curls over himself to soap her ankles, fingers working over bone and ligament, a meticulous accounting of her body that works up and up and up until his fingers are playing the highest vertebra of her spine again.

…

“What about Cohle and Reed?”

“What about them?”

“They were close, were they not?”

“Well, they worked pretty damn good together. Sometimes I felt like they were in on a joke I didn’t know about, if you get what I mean.”

“Were they romantically involved?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t think she would’ve gone for that, but I always thought he had a little crush on her, in his own way, I suppose.”

“In his own way?”

“Rust wasn’t exactly a romantic, but he liked her, seemed different around her, more at ease.”

…

“Maggie says she wants to set me up with someone.”

“Oh yeah?” It’s stifling in the bathroom, the warm afternoon haze mingling and crushing with the remnant steam from the shower, tacky skin and cloistered lungs, a faint breath of relief stepping out into her bedroom, box fan whining and kicking up more hot air. He sits down on the edge of her bed, towel loose around his waist, watching her make nothing out of the movement of opening and closing dresser drawers, turning the fan up another notch. A pretense of disinterest, though there’s a held breath in her chest.

“I told her no.”

“Why? You should go, do a double date with mister and missus normal.” Eventually, when there’s nothing left for her to fret with, she steps between his legs, water drying cool on bare skin. His hand curls at the hilt of her hip, a little bit of hurt behind the pressure that she tries not to give away, though she knows he sees the quick catch of an inhale that holds high in her sternum, his eyes dragging over muscle and matter.

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, you are pretty shit company.”

“And here I thought you liked my company.”

“You make up for your faults with your dazzling sense of humor.” Something always softens, his brow settling, mouth drawn in the slightest smile, more muscle twitch than anything else. She runs her hand back through his hair, still damp, and he lets her, leans into the touch, the heavy drop of his lashes over hollow cheeks. He murmurs into the lines of her palm, come here, come here, and she does, hitches one knee up onto the bed, the other, thighs draped over his hips and him leaning back, muscles jumping and folding to make room. She’s already wet, already wanting, but theirs is a game of patience, this she knows, so she settles around him, arms hanging loosely over his shoulders, little tilt of her head.

“Has Maggie tried that with you?”

“What, playing matchmaker? Mmm, she gave up a while ago after I kept saying no.” They touch each other with an unwavering certainty, her palm at his chest, curling over his shoulder blade, and his finding the line of her thigh, over her ass to the base of her spine, splayed, fingerprints kneading at the skin.

“Not interested in a double date with mister and missus normal?” Always give and take, faking and feinting in and out, her chin tilted down and the line of her nose brushing his, the graze of her top lip against his before she pulls away, just a little, just enough to make him show his own hand of want with the way he ducks forward, lips parted and eyes wide. She gives him what he wants the next time, no teasing, open mouths, open sighs, licking at each other’s teeth.

…

“Rust was comfortable around me, yes.”

“Why do you think that was?”

“Well, we had both lost someone. Someone young, you know. I think we understood each other because of it.”

“It was your little sister, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. And anyways, Rust’s was worse than mine.”

“His daughter.”

“Do you know about it?”

“He told us the details.”

“So you’re talking to him too?”

“We are, yes.”

“How is he?”

“It would be imprudent for us to discuss that with you.”

“No, right, right, that was a stupid question.”

…

“Marty told me something else.” Salt on her tongue, open mouth against warm skin, she has him how she likes him, splayed in rumpled sheets, and here, and here, heat pressed across his chest, teeth to clavicle and his sigh hitches, halts high in his throat, making her mouth curl into a grin.

“Marty sure tells you a lot.” She unfurls her spine, sitting back on his thighs, taking in the amused tilt of his head.

“Must be my womanly nature.”

“Right, that’s what it is.” He follows after her, curling up, mouth meeting the dip between her breasts before letting his chin drag up to look at her. Hands wander, ribs expand and contract in an easy choreography, easy synchronicity.

“He said you got a little fresh in the locker room.” She punctuates her point by taking one of his hands in hers, fingers working between his fingers, bending them in a way that she wants to hurt a little, and she thinks it does when she sees him wince, quick to school his face even though he’s been caught.

“He had it coming.”

“Everyone knows he’s fucking that girl, it’s better to leave it alone.”

“Maggie doesn’t know.”

“No.”

“She should.” She sighs at that, finally smoothing out the hurt she caused, her palm fitting against his.

“No, I don’t think she should.”

“Why?”

“Because if she did, then they wouldn’t be mister and missus normal any more. And they need that, they both do.”

“How do you know what they need?”

“They aren’t like us, they need simpler things.” Easy like this, ease like this, both of them deciding that they’ve toyed with one another enough, waited enough, she takes him inside her with a sigh, with stillness, both of them settling into each other’s warmth. Curled into and around each other, still seated so deep, shared respiration, where she breathes in, his forehead against the inhale rising in her sternum, and his exhale pulling her closer into him.

“And what do we need?” Breathed out on a sigh, his words starting to syrup and stick together thick, close heat against her skin.

“I don’t think either of us know the answer to that, do you?” He gives her no response, hands coaxing movement, coaxing hips. They pull pleasure taut and strung from between each other’s ribs and hold it between their teeth, aching jaws, soft jaws, each other’s names resounding in their throats.

…

“What happened between you two?”

“When Marty and I parted ways, we did too, it’s not really a difficult equation to sum up.”

“But you two were close, that’s what Marty said.”

“We were partners, sure. I liked her better than Marty, I’ll tell you that much.”

“So you and her never?”

“No, no, we weren’t the type. Passing ships, wandering souls, whatever it is that people call souls anyways.”

“Was she satisfied with the way that case ended?”

“Think you oughta ask her that question, seeing as you’re talking with her and all.”

…

On Sunday nights he sleeps in her bed. There are no pills, no drugs, no drinks, and yet he sleeps. Bare, on his stomach, face softened like a child’s in sleep, scrunched to one side by how his cheek rests on her pillow. Nothing seems to wake him when he’s like this, even when she slips out from under the heavy weight of his arm draped across her stomach.

She makes it through half a cigarette before he stirs, surprising her with a questioning sigh of her name. She leaves the window cracked, a still warm breeze and the drone of crickets filtering in, gets back into bed. And in the darkness, in the faint wash of night sounds, they have no need for pretense, for faking anything, being too cool, too cold for anything. Their want, and maybe even their need, is young and unashamed.

The weight of him settling over her, his face tucked into the stitching of her throat, is a relief, the soft give and press of her ribs against his body with each breath slowing everything down, simple, and just this, and only this. Her palm settles between his shoulder blades, running a circuit over muscle and bone, feeling his own inhales and exhales.

“You really think I should take Maggie up on it?” At first she isn’t sure what he’s referring to, a beat, a blink of silence within which she remembers. No, feels good threatening in her throat, but she swallows it, her hand curling at the nape of his neck, taking something for herself in some other small way.

“I think it could be a good bone to throw. You only have to do it once. It’d get them off your back, at least.” His fingers are running up and down her side, razing something deep and warm in the nonsense patterns he’s drawing. She wonders how many people have seen him like this. She doesn’t think very many.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Suit yourself then.” Nothing left to say, sleep returns easily to the both of them, pale darkness washing over the tangle of their bodies. They will wake up in the morning and forget this closeness, this care for another week, a sort of cyclical amnesia, and an eventual returning and remembering every Sunday.

…

“I’m not really sure why you’ve called me in when I haven’t touched this case in nearly twenty years.”

“We’re just trying to be thorough, get as much information as we can.”

“I had a feeling, you know, back when we thought we closed it. It felt too easy, too simple. Marty didn’t believe me, but Rust, well, yeah, you’ve talked with him.”

“You both had doubts then?”

“Are you gonna show me the new file?”

“We’d like to hear your accounting of events first.”

“Right, well, there’s not much to tell that you don’t already know. Case was closed in 1995, I worked in Vermilion Parish for seven more years with those two, and I left in 2002.”

“Can you tell us what happened in 2002?”

“There was– a disagreement between myself and my partners, and it became clear we could no longer work together, so we parted ways.”

“What exactly happened between you three?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this current investigation.”

“So you haven’t had any communication with Rust since you parted ways, as you said?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to Rust since 2002, and I imagine I won’t be speaking to him any time soon.”

#rust cohle #rust cohle fanfiction #rustin cohle #rustin cohle fanfiction #rust cohle smut #rust cohle angst #rust cohle au #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle story #rust cohle fic

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pricetagofficial · 2 months

Text

How Far We Fall -D.G.

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of death, child loss, therapy, trauma, attempted murder, poor Tim is caught in the middle of this

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: You guys voted for the angst, well you got the angst. I don't actually remember how I came up with this. All I remember is that I wanted to write pain, and well here I am!

I am not sorry, you guys wanted this.

Dick couldn’t believe what he was looking at, here you were in front of him with a dagger to his younger brother’s throat, Tim’s throat, and a murderous look in your eyes.

He watched as Robin squirmed in your hold, desperate to get away but one wrong move and his throat would be slit and there would be no going back.

Batman tensed beside him, ready for a fight to save his youngest. Somehow, you had gotten past their security and wormed your way into their lives. Somehow, you fit in so well they didn’t even think twice before accepting you.

That was their mistake.

“Y/N–” Dick held a hand out, the glove of his suit palm up as if he was trying to convince you to come back to him. “Let him go, and we can talk about this.”

“Talk? You want to talk?” you scoffed. “Fine then. Why don’t we talk about the reason why we’re here.”

After years of planning, this was your moment to get back at the Batman. Back at him for everything you’ve lost because of him and his senseless no-killing rule. If he didn’t have that rule, you wouldn’t be holding his youngest at knifepoint threatening to take his son from him, like he took your daughter.

How could he have been so blind? So smitten with you, the idea of who you were, Dick gave you everything including his secret identity without so much as batting an eye.

“Y/N, please–” he pleaded, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “He’s just a kid–”

“So was my daughter!” you screamed, voice echoing off the walls around you. “She was barely a year old and it’s your fucking fault!”

Dick stopped in his tracks at your words, what were you talking about? After living with you for the last six months, he would have noticed if you had a kid.

“What are you talking about?” Dick asked, his eyes not leaving you or Tim.

Your jaw tensed as your eyes flitted past Dick and stared at the man responsible. “Two years ago, October 31st.”

Halloween, two years ago? Dick looked behind him towards Bruce; he was in Bludhaven at the time, but he heard how bad it was. The Joker and Mad Hatter decided that blowing up a city block or two and dosing them with gas was a good trick-or-treat gift. Bruce struggled hard and kept Robin inside that night. He was about to open his mouth when Bruce spoke up.

“You were there,” his voice rumbled through the air making your nerves stand on end.

“Of course I was there.” you hissed. “I was trapped in the rubble for 4 hours, another 3 before they found her.”

Dick didn’t miss the way your voice wavered, nor the way your grip loosened on the knife. Tim didn’t seem to either, before steadying himself on his feet.

“I lost the most important person in my life because you can’t keep your fucking city in check.” Your grip on Tim’s cape tightened, pulling him back into you. “And now I’ll take someone important to you.”

Batman let out an audible growl before Dick jumped between him and yourself.

“Y/N stop! Think this through!”

“I have thought it through,” you spoke, voice unnaturally calm despite the circumstances. “You were my original target, Dick.”

Dick’s blood ran cold at your words, you were planning to kill him?

You laughed. “But somehow you wriggled your way into my heart and I couldn’t kill you, so I had to improvise.”

“So you kidnap a child to prove a point?”

“I’m fourteen,”

“Not now, Tim.”

You hardened your gaze, “There’s no going back for me, Dick. This is where it ends.”

Daring to take a step towards you, Dick pulled the mask off his eyes.

“Nightwing–”

“Bruce now is not the time.” Turning his attention back on you, Dick kept a calm look on his face despite the terror coursing through him. He failed one brother, he couldn’t fail another.

“Come back with me. Let Tim go and we can go home and forget this ever happened.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know how this works. The second I let the kid go, he’s going to go running to you while Batman leaves me a bloody pulp for the police to find.”

Dick sighed, dropping his head before he looked at you once more. “You’re right, we can’t just forget this. But we can get you help, get you to the right people.”

Pressing the knife to Tim’s throat, you felt him tense under your hold. “I’m not going to that hellhole you call Arkham.”

Taking another step, Dick shook his head. “No, not Arkham. But the second you hurt Tim, I can’t stop them from sending you there.”

Swallowing hard, you took a look around. What were you doing? Dick had a point, Tim was a child no matter how many times he pointed out to you how old he was. Were you really going to kill him because Batman was responsible for the death of your baby?

Meeting Dick’s eyes again, you could see why he removed the mask. It was so you could see the expression in them, the longing, the hope that you would let his brother go and take his hand.

The blue in his eyes stood out in the darkness around you, almost matching the blue of his suit. After all this, did he really think the two of you could go back to what you were before? He really trusted you enough not to try something like this again?

“Trust me, Y/N. Please?”

Hearing those words, you dropped the knife.

Immediately, Tim darted forward past Dick to Bruce. Dick was on his knees, catching you as your weight gave in and you collapsed into his arms.

Unable to stop the tears, you cried into Dick’s chest. “It’s not fair!”

Running a hand through your hair, Dick held you as you cried. Placing a kiss on the crown of your head, he closed his eyes.

“I know baby, I know it’s not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months passed and true to his word, Dick got you the help you needed without going to Arkham. Your relationship was strained but on the mend. No matter how much he promised it would all be okay, you knew they wouldn’t forget let alone forgive the fact that you tried to kill Tim out of revenge.

You lost count of how many times you apologized to him and Bruce, knowing it wouldn’t change a thing. Not for a while at least.

Keeping your part of the promise, you sought help professionally at least once a week. Your session that afternoon wasn’t bad, but it was exhausting. Recounting the events of that Halloween to someone again drained all the energy you had left within you.

You were currently standing on the balcony of your apartment when you heard a soft thud behind you. Hearing the sound of light footsteps behind you, you felt a pair of hands rest on your shoulders.

“Hey, what are you doing up this late?”

Dick’s voice was tired but laced with worry, worry for you and your sleeping habits. He must have just finished his patrol for the night.

Placing a hand on his, you smiled softly. It meant a lot that Dick stuck around when anyone else would have left you by this point. You felt a pair of lips brush your cheek before you were pulled back into his hold, warm and safe.

“I’m okay, Dickie.” you hummed. “Just thinking I guess,”

You didn’t have to see the look on Dick’s face to know that he was frowning.

“You should be asleep,” he started.

“I tried,”

Dick sighed and rested his head on your shoulder. “I know it’s hard when I’m not there, but you have to try.”

“Dick please, don’t start this tonight,” you begged, turning to bury your face in his chest. “I don’t have the energy for it.”

Wrapping his arms around you fully, Dick held you close. The nightmares must have been bad this time if you were refusing to try again without him near you. Placing a kiss on the top of your head, Dick led you inside.

“Alright, let me just get changed and we can catch some z’s together okay?”

Nodding slowly, you let go of him but kept a grip on his fingers. The only time you let go of his hand was when he had to pull off his suit. Once he had sweats on, Dick pulled you along to the couch and rested you on top of his chest.

Slowly you melted into his warmth as he turned on the T.V. letting the old reruns play as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat.

Now that Dick knew the full story, he could see all the symptoms and signs you gave him from the very beginning. It was surprising how he missed them in the first place, with the way you left things around the place it was almost as if you wanted to be caught before it was too late.

After a while, he heard the soft sounds of your breath against his bare chest and smiled softly. This was the only way you could sleep, with him next to you. Dick promised he was going to help you, and help is what you were going to get.

Of course, Dick got the biggest lecture from Bruce, for the millionth time about why we don’t flaunt secret identities around. But Dick knew he could trust you. What he wanted to know was if you could trust him.

Dick knew that death and loss made people do crazy things, he had been down that path before when his parents died, and again when Jason died. It was a hard one to come back from, but Dick planned on being there for you every step of the way, for as long as you would let him.

@bluejay-the-geek @niggxrette @offendedfishnoises @restwellsoon @littleredwing89

#costly affairs #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing reader insert #dick grayson angst #nightwing angst #tim drake #batman #dc comics

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nicomundthered · 1 year

Text

Blood Runs Cold

Injured Trilogy- part one | part two | part three

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: you save Ellie, but not yourself.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, this one is angsty, blood and descriptions of injury, I'm not a doctor, also don't know a thing about nature apparently, established relationship, happy family, drowning, fear of water, way more spice than intended it just happened- though nowhere near explicit.

word count: 10k | ao3

a/n: had to edit this twice and tbh I just need it finished, so please forgive the mistakes. part three might take a little longer...I’m having quite the anxious episode but enough of that, hope you enjoy!

masterlist

It took a while for you to recover, but you had. Well for the most part. Your hand was the only lingering problem.

The doctor had done what she could for it but without the proper technology and equipment–even after the mostly successful surgery, it would never be the same again.

You had diligently followed the physical therapy exercises she gave you and weeks later, you could now make a fist and your grip strength was improving. The process was long and if you were being honest you were getting impatient. You were just thankful that it was your non-dominant hand because it was still frustratingly weak and uncoordinated in comparison. The doctor had confirmed that it would probably always feel that way. You'd be lying if you said that that didn't upset you, not that you weren't grateful to be alive–it just really sucked.

Joel was different though. While you were a little depressed and frustrated, Joel seemed to be almost obsessing over it. He would inspect it every morning, seeing how the two deep scars from the surgery were healing. Then he would ask a couple times a day if you had completed your exercises. And he was also overly protective of it. He'd fuss anytime you picked up anything or when you'd tell him that you were ready to go back to work. The two of you argued over it quite heatedly more than once.

One day, a couple weeks ago now, after he finished his patrol he returned his gun and gear, and checked in with Tommy for the next day's schedule.

Tommy and Maria were in a deep discussion and when they saw Joel, Tommy bowed his head and Maria straightened, both looking extremely suspicious.

“What happened?” Joel asked concerned. He somehow knew it was about you.

Maria admitted that due to your tenacity, she had put you on light cleaning duties. That you had begged to have something to do, and that after a couple of hours you had grown frustrated from the weakness in your hand, which had cramped causing you to drop a plate. It shattered all over the ground and when you could only use your good hand to pick up the small pieces, it had sent you over the edge.

You didn't listen to anyone and you'd picked up the sharp pieces using only one hand and it had cut you up. You did so with tears in your eyes and then you left without saying a word, hand covered in blood.

He quickly left, hurrying to you as fast as his feet would carry him.

When he came home he found you in your shared bathroom. You didn't hear him enter and were focused trying to pick out the small ceramic pieces that were lodged beneath your fingertips.

You had been attempting to fish out the pieces for just under an hour now and your hands were shaking. You could barely work the tweezers due to the slick blood and your hand was cramping. Speaking of, it was properly hurting now–which it hadn't been for weeks now.

“Baby?”

You jumped, dropping the tweezers and cursing. You grabbed the hand towel and tried to cover your hand but he was quicker. His body came up behind yours and he placed both arms on the sink, trapping you in place, eyes making contact in the mirror.

“Let me see,” he said, leaning down, breath hitting your neck.

“It’s nothing, just cut myself cleaning.”

“Let–me see.”

You almost gave in but just as you about relented, you thought of a different distraction and leaned back and pressed your backside into him, moving your hips gently from side to side.

His nostrils flared, eyes narrowed as he hissed at the contact. It took him a second to come to his senses because his body would alway betray him when it came to you, but then quickly snapped out of it and scooted back and put his hands on your hips preventing you from following.

“Jesus–just let me see your damn hand.”

You turned around abruptly, he was still very much in your personal space.

“I just nicked it. I don't know why you're acting like this over this,” you suddenly felt small like a helpless child. Despite your confident voice, you could no longer look at him as tears welled in your eyes. You hated feeling helpless but you also hated needing help. And what didn't even make sense was all he wanted to do was to help you. Why you rejected it you weren't entirely sure. Maybe you were just tired of seeing the worried look on his face–the one that you continued to put there.

Though, as much as you loved him, you hated the way you always just gave into him. You blamed his eyes, his voice, his… you know what, it was just him–he was your kryptonite.

“It was just a little cleaning,” you said, unwrapping your hand and held it up to him so that he could see. “I- I uh–broke a glass and tried to…”

“Maria told me.”

“Damn.”

He chuckled softly at your frustration and then frowned suddenly, “You're still lying to me. I thought we went over this.”

“This doesn't count though. It's not life or death. It's just a few stupid cuts.”

He reached out and took your lightly bleeding hand. “I’m not too worried about this,” he said after inspecting it thoroughly, noting that you still had some small pieces still stuck. “But this…” he gently let go of your hand and picked up the other. It was still locked in a cramp, “This is what I worry about.”

He carefully pressed into the tight muscle and you gasped in discomfort, which was quickly replaced with relief as he kneaded the overused muscle until he successfully worked the cramp out.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him almost ashamed

“You're doin’ too much.”

You yanked your hand from his like he had just burned you. He didn't react, just continued to stare at you. He wasn't going to take that back, you were doing too much too soon.

“I literally just swept and washed a few dishes. If–if I can't even do that then…”

“You were hurt,” the frown returned to his face.

“Yeah I was. Past tense Joel.”

“It takes time to heal. You almost…you almost died baby,” he put his hands in his pockets as he blinked a few times trying to rid the images of you doubled over coughing up blood.

He wanted to reach out to you so damn bad, but knew that you needed space right now.

“I know that. But I feel so helpless, all the time. I- I can't do anything. I can't even turn the pages in a book…I can't even sit and fucking read. And you leave and do your shifts–shifts that we are supposed to do together. What if you got hurt because I wasn't there to watch your back?” He looked like he wanted to interrupt you but refrained. “And then Ellie has to come home from school and before she does her homework or hangs out with her friends she helps me cook and clean. I just—I’m just so sick of feeling useless. I’m so sick of feeling like a burden.”

There it was.

He thought of a million things to say. He wanted to berate you for even thinking such a thing, but that never seemed to work on you, so he decided to go a different route.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” You said with more venom than you intended.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” he cleared his throat, “When I was stabbed and you and Ellie had to do everything.”

“You were unconscious Joel. You were dying from infection.”

“That doesn't matter. I–I couldn't protect you two. I could barely understand what you said to me but I could make out enough.” He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his face, “I knew that you were going to leave and try to find me medicine. I tried to call out…I tried to stop you, but I couldn't. And then when the men–when the men came looking for you I–damn near lost my mind. But I couldn't move. I, I tried so hard to,” he felt the familiar pressure in his chest, “I…I watched you leave–and I couldn't even beg you to stay.”

You stood still as a statue as a tear rolled down your cheek, all you could do was stare.

“So yeah, I do understand. Feeling helpless is the worst, but you got me and Ellie, and you are getting better everyday. But pushing yourself isn’t gonna help you. So please do me–do us a favor and just let us help you. You’d do the same thing for us in a heartbeat and you are never a burden. Do you hear me?”

Your eyes were wide and mouth was slightly opened, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s ok. Everything turned out fine. We are both here.”

You launched at him, hugging him tightly. You kissed his neck and said, “I wish you would have told me. I know you dream about it…”

“I don't want to talk about that right now, ok? I just want to get that junk out of your hand and take a shower. Does that sound good?”

You agreed.

He took his time and worked efficiently, and in no time he had all of the debris removed and had cleaned your fingertips. Then he helped you undress and led you to the shower, where he worshiped you with as much attention as he gave you wounds, and then finished by cleaning your body as well–something that he's come to enjoy doing. When you got out of the shower he gently bandaged both hands, one for the cuts and the other to relieve the pressure on the healing muscle.

He dried you off and helped you dress into your most comfortable clothes, which were ironically his clothes. Then you sat at the kitchen table and listened while he told you about his day. He heated you a can of your preferred soup and toasted you both some bread to go along with it.

After your shared meal, you moved to the bedroom where he read a couple chapters of your favorite book to you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder. And when you woke you were in his arms snuggled closely, your bad hand in his as he lightly massaged it.

You've been back on light duties for a month now–also known as cleaning and restocking the armory. It definitely feels boring and mundane after the action you were used to, but it was much better than doing nothing. Your hand still has the occasional cramp but it's much stronger. You’ve practiced on the shooting range a few times now and you weren't as hindered as you thought you'd be. Slower yes, but still able, with an aim as deadly as it's ever been.

It was the middle of a Wyoming winter and it was cold. Snow fell for four days straight covering the ground in a thick solid layer that probably wouldn't melt until the beginning of spring. Which made today's appearance of the sun that much better. Everyone in Jackson acted like it was a holiday. Two families were actually having parties and had invited you over.

People liked you for a reason you didn't even know. You were nice and you worked hard but you weren't overly friendly, maybe you just appeared that way because you were around Joel and Ellie. Or maybe it was because you were close to Maria and Tommy. Regardless, there would be no partying for you.

A few months ago you had talked Ellie out of going on runs until she was older. She hated it and took quite some convincing but you managed to make a deal with her. She focuses on school and her friends, and honestly just being a semi carefree teenager for once in her life, and a couple times a year the three of you would take vacations.

By vacations, you'd basically just camp and be away from everyone a bit. None of you would admit it but each of you missed the seclusion. Just the three of you, no obligations, nobody telling you what to do. You were grateful for Jackson, you all were and it was much better than being alone but that's how you lived for months together. That's where your strong bonds were made, and sometimes the sleeping bag under the stars felt more like home than your house.

Another part of the agreement was that Ellie got to choose where you'd go. It couldn't be too far, at least not during the winter, and the trip couldn't last more than a week–not until she was finished with school.

On this inaugural trip she wanted to see the rapids. Some friends had talked about how they canoed down them and she hadn't stopped talking about it since. You doubted that that was true, in a canoe? But it didn't matter it was a part of your deal and since the rapids weren't too far away the request seemed reasonable.

And really it was a big deal for Ellie to want to go anywhere near water, let alone potentially dangerous water. She had let it slip once that she couldn't swim and the fact that she hasn't asked to learn yet tells you that she's afraid.

It was early morning, the sun had just begun to light up the sky. It was cold but no snow clouds were on the horizon. You were all packed with more things than you’d need in a week, and the trip probably wouldn’t even last three days. This was your first time leaving since your injury and it was Ellie's first since the agreement, which meant Joel was kind of a nervous wreck. He packed excessive amounts of everything–ammo, food, first aid. His pack weighed double the usual weight, and this time he saddled up his horse.

You found him in the stables. He was loading up the horse slowly and precisely, trying to slow down the inevitable–his family was leaving safety.

“Are you ready?”

He jumped slightly and laughed almost nervously. “You scared me sweetheart.” He sighed and fastened the last strap on the saddle, “Bout there, I wanna double check the…”

“Joel,” you crossed your arms and looked at him sweetly. “Everything is going to be ok. We are going to have a fun quick little trip. Nothing that we aren't used to right?”

He still had his back to you but you could hear him gulp and you could see him trying to shake his head in some sort of agreement.

“Hey.” You walked up to him and held the side of his arms. “Do not put all of this on yourself. The three of us can defend ourselves, in fact I'd say that we are a pretty badass trio.”

You smiled and he couldn't help but smile back. It didn't reach his eyes but he smiled nonetheless.

“I’m afraid.” His voice was low where only you could hear him. He turned from you and focused on the horse. A little shocked that the confession slid out of him so easily. Completely unintentional.

His admission made you break a little. You didn't want this to stress him out like it was. This was supposed to be fun. “If you don't want to go me and Ellie–”

“No,” his voice was firm and commanding. “God- just no. I um–I just…it's safe here.” He was suddenly fixated on petting the horse, unable to look at your eyes that seemed to make him confess things without his permission. “And to leave it, if we don't have to seems…foolish to me.”

You tensed at his words. And boy did they make you angry. You and Ellie have been planning this and looking forward to it for weeks now. And he just waited until the last minute to express his concern? To call something you’d been dreaming about foolish?!

“We can't just stay here. We can't just be yours to play house with.” You paced a little and then continued almost grumbling to yourself, “Be your little housewife and we aren’t even married—go to school–be your picture perfect family. We can't do that. I can’t. I- I won't.”

He turned to face you quickly. He hadn’t meant to upset you, really he hadn't but it did seemed foolish to him, dangerous for no reason. He didn’t like the way you were talking, it made him uncomfortable. Yes he loved coming home to you but it was just because he knew that you were safe. It had nothing to do with you being a ‘housewife’ to him. And he also didn’t like what sounded like an ultimatum, he would never keep you from leaving but it still frightened him.

“I just meant–”

“Oh I know what you meant.” You felt your face getting hot. You didn't know where all of this was coming from and chalked it up to being frustrated at his last minute indecisiveness and your slightly stir-crazed mental state. “And it's such an easy thing for you to think about- building a wall around us caginging us up like animals in a zoo.”

“That's not–”

“Come home to a cooked meal.” You were pacing faster now, needing some kind of physical release. Your body was practically humming with pent up energy from being cooped up for months.

“Baby it’s not–”

“All your laundry folded nice and neat.” You dug your boots into the stable floor with such force that dirt was actually starting to kick up. You could feel your blood pressure rise with each step.

“To be propped up and ready to fuck when you come home–”

That made him snap. “Stop it!” He tightly held your shoulders and jerked you around hard. “I’d think very carefully about what you say next.”

You were still, all except for a wicked gleam of rebellion that flashed in your eyes. “Is that what you want?” You were breathing embarrassingly heavy.

He hated his reaction to all of this but regardless he still felt blood quickly rushing south and his pants tightened rapidly. You are just so damn hot and the image you were painting, well he hated to admit that the last part sounded appealing. Also he not so secretly liked it when you talked dirty.

“For me to be spread out on the bed for you, nothing to do but wait for you to get home. Be nice and ready for your—”

With absolutely no warning he spun you around and pulled you roughly to him. You arched into him instinctively and he placed one hand on your inner thigh and the other over your dirty mouth.

“I know it’s been awhile so I won’t get mad at you. But if you don't shut that pretty mouth of yours right now, we aren't goin’ anywhere.”

You ground your backside into him just as rough, and bit at his hand, in a futile attempt of retaliation.

“Fuck…” He pressed himself harder into you. A sinful moan escaped you that was barely muffled by his large hand. He was certain that his strain was going to break his zipper. “If you needed this from me baby, all you have to do is ask.” He cooed into your ear making chills shoot down your spine and pressure pool into your belly.

He moved his hand that was resting on your thigh and started to unclip your belt buckle.

The metallic clank broke you from your lust filled trance, and you shot out from his embrace. Your pupils were blown wide and you were almost gasping for air. “You aren't gonna- damnit, you aren’t going to distract me over this. We- we are leaving, with or without you.”

You stormed out quickly. Not even bothering to buckle back up.

If he were in the position he would have chased after you. But he couldn’t go running through town in his current state. So instead, to calm himself down, he thought about anything at all other than you.

A couple of minutes later, he led his overly packed horse over to where the two of you were waiting. Ellie was beaming at him and bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. He smiled at her but it made him feel like a piece of shit. This meant so much to the two of you. And he might have just ruined your whole trip. He hated when he made you angry but he still believed he had a point.

He looked over at you and you quickly turned your head away to avoid him. He didn’t know how to apologize to you. Or rather he knew how but he couldn’t do that in front of Ellie. So he’d have to find the right time when you were alone. He wasn’t the best with words, in fact most of the time his words only made things worse. So he’d have to be patient and hope you’d be willing to forgive.

He was mid thought when you just started walking. Ellie cut her eyes back at him and raised her eyebrow in question.

He just shrugged but he knew she was clever, sometimes too clever, and he knew that she knew he had done something stupid.

“Come on.” He sighed, urging her to drop it and follow.

Luckily for him, she was more excited for the trip than curious about what had happened. But he still feared that it was only a matter of time before she questioned him to death.

It took about five hours to make it to the river. It was a slow peaceful walk. There was no hurry—the journey and being at peace was the reason for the trip–it was mostly made in silence, the three of you weren’t big on small talk so it wasn’t at all uncomfortable, though he knew that you were only quiet because you were still stewing from earlier.

Ellie grew more talkative towards the end and you tried your best to carry on with her, but you were still infuriated with Joel. It was a buildup of things you supposed. But sometimes he really gets under your skin. The overprotective thing really works for you until it doesn't. And that’s not really fair to him because that’s who he is, and you knew that he hadn’t caged you in, you just felt trapped by your own injury.

It didn’t help that it was after months of being cooped up and babied. Two things you disliked. If he was going to be like this every time you wanted to go for a walk- then flat out, the relationship wouldn’t work. You needed some semblance of freedom or you’d go insane. That scared you because you also needed him. And maybe you were being a little dramatic. He was currently beside you and you were outside of the gates. So maybe you were being a little hasty. Hopefully this outing will give you the reboot your mind needed.

Joel picked a place to set up camp while you and Ellie walked over to the edge of the cliff to see the now infamous rapids. They were more intense than you imagined, no way could a canoe make it down them.

Ellie was being uncharacteristically timid. You looked back at her and decided to give her some alone time. “I’m going to help him, don't get too close to the edge, it's slick.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at you.

When you made it back to Joel he already had half of the stuff thrown on the ground, but when he looked at you he gave a look.

“What?” You placed your hands on your hips defensively.

“Nothin’...” he exhaled deeply, “Look- I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t wanna ruin your trip.”

“Our trip, it's our trip Joel. Look at where we are. Look how beautiful it is.” you gestured around you at the beautiful mountains, “Don’t you just feel…free?”

He looked at you with a sudden understanding, it was freedom that you needed. You’d told him as much, but seeing the stress visibly leave your face is what finally got it through his thick skull, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

You beamed at him, “See!”

“You look awfully beautiful out here like this,” his eyes sparkled at you. There was no other way to describe it.

“So do you.”

“Yeah?”

“Big time.”

He laughed, “See that big tree?”

It was the biggest tree in the area, impossible to miss, “Yeah?”

“If we were alone I’d apologize like you like me to, right up against–”

“Stop…that's–that’s cruel,” you blushed.

He laughed almost wickedly.

“Let's unpack before you find a way to get yourself back into trouble.”

Ellie was looking out, biting her lip apprehensively. Now that she was here she was fucking scared. Why did she even pick this stupid place, she couldn't swim, it was cold, and it was fucking stupid.

She walked closer to the edge and tried to peek over but she was too far away. She got frustrated with herself. Come on, don't be a pussy. She moved closer and closer still. Her chest felt tight and her legs were beginning to quake. She fought the urge to lay down and crawl to the edge, she didn't think that that would be a good look for her. So she continued to move forward very slowly, inch by inch, silently disregarding all sounds of internal alarms until finally, she could see all the way down into the raging water.

Her toes kissed the edge and as she leaned forward, just as she felt that she had confidently conquered a fear, her boot slipped. “FU–” she was cut short as she twisted and tried to grab onto the edge, but in doing so she landed on her chest which then sent her flying backwards towards the water. Thankfully she landed on a ledge less than halfway down the steep drop.

The ledge was small and narrow, she was very lucky to land on it at all. If she wouldn't have tried to hug the side of the cliff she would have fallen straight into the water. What she didn’t notice though was as she landed, the ledge moved slightly- small rocks broke off and fell into the freezing water below.

Ellie laid there for a few seconds and stared up at the blue sky. She took deep breaths trying to get it through her head that she was in fact alive–she wasn't entirely convinced. Until she heard you calling out her name.

You were fortunate enough to look over just as she fell. You ran to her as fast as you could desperately calling out her name.

Joel was left alone and confused for merely a second before he noticed Ellie's missing form. His heart dropped as he sprinted past you and looked over where she used to be standing.

“Ellie?” you caught up and stood beside him.

You looked over the ledge as she carefully stood and brushed off some snow and dirt.

“Holy shit.” she said looking up at the two of you.

She didn't speak loud enough to hear because of the thunderous sound of the rapids, but you could read her lips. You exhaled in relief.

Joel was also very relieved. If she had fallen she would have hit the rocks, and if by some miracle she missed the rocks the currents were strong. Even an amazing swimmer wouldn’t be able to stay above the water, he didn't care to think about what would happen to someone who couldn't swim.

“Ellie,” he yelled down to her.

She looked up, and moved to hug the side of the cliff, “Yea?”

He laid on his stomach and reached down his arm as far as he could stretch, “Can you climb to reach my hand?”

She stretched her body as tall as she could, standing on her toes, her feet almost completely parallel to the cliff. She was still short, not by much, so she jumped as high as she could, still missing his hand. When she landed, the shifting of the ledge was still unnoticed. There was nothing to grab onto, there was nothing to grip to climb.

She jumped again but this time landing with more force. The ledge visibly shifted and larger rocks plunked into the water.

“Stop!” you screamed out. “Ellie, stay still!”

She gave a thumbs up, “No problem.”

You laid down next to Joel, “I’m going down there.”

“Like hell–”

“Hey, listen to me. I’m taller than her. I could probably jump and reach your hand, she just needs a boost. She could probably stand on my back and reach you.”

“Let me, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” you sighed and did your best to calm down. “I don't think the ledge is strong enough to hold you both.”

He opened his mouth but you continued, “And you know I couldn't pull your ass up.” you grinned, but he wasn't having it.

“Just wait a second. Let me figure something out.” He looked back towards camp, “We could tie some–”

“You saw the way those rocks fell. We might not have the time for that Joel.” You grabbed his forearm and looked deeply into his eyes, you weren't playing around, you were going to do this, “Please, let me save her.”

His brows furrowed and he looked at you with as much seriousness as you've ever seen from him, and that was saying something. He brought his forehead to yours, “Be careful,” he whispered onto your skin.

You nodded, noses bumbing against each other and then reluctantly moved from him and looked down, “Ellie? I’m going to come down there and help you, ok?”

She looked up at you in pure panic, “No don't! This fucking piece of shit rock is barely holding me up.”

“It’ll be fine.”

She practically cried out your name, “Please don't,” her voice cracked in her loud plea.

You looked at Joel and he was looking at you in premature anguish, “It’s going to be alright,” you said to who, you weren’t sure–probably everyone, including yourself.

You removed your gloves in case you needed a better grip and slowly climbed over the edge, Joel held on tightly, and when he looked at the two deep scars on your hand he froze, “God damnit!”

“What?” you looked up worried that something had happened, and saw him focused on your hand.

“Crazy woman, what are you fuckin’ insane?”

Your hand had crossed your mind, but getting Ellie to safety was the only thing that mattered. You smiled sadly- knowingly at him, and he all of the sudden realized what he was doing–he was slowly dropping you to your death. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a suicide mission. The anger from his eyes was replaced with bone chilling fear. He desperately yanked you back up a little, pulling your arm too tight and causing your bicep to strain.

“Wha–?” you saw the raw panic in his eyes as he tried to haul you back up, “Stop, Joel Stop!” you looked down at Ellie and then back up to him with tears in your eyes, “I’ll break my arm off if I have to.”

He knew you would. Selfless woman.

He looked back at you holding on to his hand, gripping the side of the rock face, eyes full of tears and determination–he loved you so. “You better come back to me.”

“I always will.”

His grip tightened and he lowered you as far as he could, “Land softly.”

No shit you thought as you landed on the ledge. It dropped even further this time making a horrible crumbling noise.

You grabbed Ellie and hugged her tightly afraid that this was it. When nothing else happened you sighed in relief and quickly backed up. She looked scared, like she wanted to stay in your arms and hide.

“Come on, we have to hurry.”

You quickly got on your hands and knees and she stood on top of you. She reached tall but was scared to dig her toes into you–she didn't want to hurt you, and she thought of how long it took for your ribs to heal, how much pain you were in.

“Use your toes Ellie!” you demanded.

“I don't want to hurt you,” she practically sobbed out.

“You won’t, I can hardly feel you.”

She knew you were lying but she complied and stood on the tips of her toes. She brushed his fingertips and tried to reach further.

“Are you close?” you asked, feeling the ground beneath you sway knowing time wasn't on your side.

“I can touch him but I can’t–”

“Jump,” you interrupted her.

“Wha….NO I won't do that.”

“Ellie, baby- you have to.”

“I don't want to.”

“I love you very much…everything is going to be ok.”

More rocks crumbled and Joel called out your name in warning.

“Jump Ellie!”

Without a moment's more hesitation she did and Joel gripped her wrist tightly. They worked together and quickly got her to safety.

The pathetic excuse for a ledge was giving out. Your world was rocking back and forth like a buoy on the ocean. You stood slowly, doing your best to not make any sudden movements. You could hear both of them desperately calling out to you but you were focused. They didn’t know how precarious your situation had become.

You stood slowly and reached for Joel’s hand. You had known going into this that it was going to be much harder for you to get up. Sure you were taller than Ellie but not by much. You were going to have to jump or climb. To jump meant if you missed- you had to land, and you weren’t sure it could take that force.

You dug your fingers into any crack you could find, there weren’t many but you made your way maybe a foot off of the ledge when two things happened—first your hand locked up in a cramp that rendered it useless. You dropped it to your side, trying your best to hide it from those above. And second, the ledge broke away and fell into the water.

They cried out to you but you didn’t know what to do. You truly couldn’t do a thing with your hand, you couldn’t even use it as a stabilizer. You found a perch for one toe of your boot, but it wasn’t going to hold long.

It was like the universe knew that this was how you’d die. It was shitty, but it was giving you a chance to say goodbye to the two people you loved most in the world, and that’s more than a lot of people got.

You looked up. Joel’s face was red from straining to make himself longer. Spit was flying from his mouth with every pleading yell. Ellie was screaming for you to hurry. Time seemed to slow down as you watched them. They were going to be ok, they had each other, and despite what Joel would argue that would be enough.

So you had one attempt. It was all or nothing. One small lurch forward and you’d either make it to Joel’s hand or you wouldn’t. The chances were very slim.

“I have one shot,” you called up.

“Just keep climbing baby, you’re doing so good!” he encouraged loudly.

“I- I can’t. My hand is locked up.”

He cussed and behind him his feet angrily kicked holes in the snow. Tears started falling from his face and passed by you like drops of rain, “I told you to let me! I could have—“

“I love you. I love you both,” you sniffled but felt at peace, you had saved your girl, “I’m going to try my best but I really don’t have much to propel myself from.”

Your hand slipped a little and you could hear Joel’s gasp and Ellie’s cry.

“Ok I’m ready,” your muscles tightened in preparation and you tested the movement. Once you were satisfied that you’ve done all you could you started your countdown, “On, three-two—one.”

To give yourself some credit, you did make it farther than you thought. Probably a hands length away from Joel’s, but you knew from takeoff that it wasn’t enough.

You briefly saw the look of absolute horror on their faces as you took in as much air as you could, and shielded your head with your arms as you plunged into the freezing water.

You of course knew that water was powerful. It helped shape the earth with its constant rising and falling. Given time its pressure could smooth a stone, could forge new paths and create new bodies of water. It grew vegetation as easily as it could flood and drown. Any living thing needs it or would die. Water was both life and death, it was a powerful, powerful thing.

But you didn’t truly respect it until now. It tugged you under and slung your body around like a ragdoll filled with nothing but cotton. You had never felt so weighed down and yet somehow so weightless. You were so distracted by the sheer force of it that the sharp burning from the cold came later. Then oddly enough the need to breathe came even later than that.

After a few seconds of pathetically trying to fight it, you quickly realized you could do nothing but patiently wait for a current to bring you to the surface for a chance to get air.

It happened faster than you had anticipated. Before you knew it your head was above the water and you were gasping for oxygen. Some water got in but that didn’t matter to you in the slightest.

You glanced to the side at the riverbank and for the first time you noticed how fast you were moving. You were absolutely flying down the river.

You went under a couple more times, and were banged around—hitting some rocks here and there, which would bruise but nothing serious.

There wasn’t much farther to go as far as the rapids were concerned. The river was long but if you could make it another one- two minutes tops before it slowed and calmed.

What a jinx you are.

Your ankle was suddenly caught between two rocks. You were stuck and the angry currents were pushing at the side of your face, trying their best to force you back under. You took a deep breath, and went under to try and wiggle your boot free. It was of no use so you untied the shoe and were launched free immediately. It took you by surprise and rolled you a few times—disorienting you, and then your luck ran out. You hit your head, everything went black.

When you fell he almost jumped right in after you. As matter of fact, if Ellie wasn't with him he would have. His whole body shifted forward begging him to leap, but Ellie’s hand quickly grabbed his shoulder tugging him back up, as she yelled out after you. She anchored him to the spot and kept him from acting irrationally.

He sprang to his feet, “Look for her I’m gettin’ the horse.”

She quickly got up and ran along the edge. It's funny that moments ago she was so scared to even go near it- now she was sprinting alongside it, the only fear she felt was for you. Her eyes combed the water trying to get a glimpse of your now flailing form, they were stinging from the cold but she refused to so much as blink.

She looked farther down and saw you, just as you were thrusted up for air.

Joel passed her on the horse and she pointed ahead. She tried to keep up but you were both moving too quickly. She kept running even as she lost sight of you both.

Joel was riding alongside you. It was a difficult task to both keep his eyes on you, and keep his horse from running off the side but he quickly adjusted. You were doing a good job of keeping your head above the water, and he was starting to feel slightly optimistic.

The water was already calming down.

He looked back to you all of that previous optimism died along with any hope he had left in him. This time he screamed your name, it was way too raw to be called a yell.

He moved his horse back and forth searching. The horse was as anxious as Joel, it wanted to continue running. His heart was beating out of his chest as he continued crying out for you.

Then he saw you.

You were face down and floating downstream.

He charged the horse and went ahead of you to where the rocks stopped and the shore began. He dismounted, took off all of his clothes except his boxers, and ran into the water.

Even though it was calmer, he still had to curl his toes–gripping at the dirt in an attempt to brace himself with each step. When you floated near he swam out to you. It was rougher out where you were.

When he reached you he quickly turned you over.

You were so blue and he couldn’t tell if you were breathing.

Fortunately for the both of you, he was a swim champion in his teenage years and a pool lifeguard was his first job. He swam fast and strong and there was no way you’d release from his grip.

When his feet touched the bottom he cradled you, and trudged through the water as quickly as he could–water splashing all around as his strong legs ran you to shore.

Ellie was waiting, bent over trying to catch her breath.

He got you out of the water and laid you down in the snow.

“Is she breathing?” Ellie gasped as she looked down at your blue face.

“I don’t know yet.” He felt for a pulse but didn’t find one. Then he put finger under your nose to feel the air. Nothing.

“Damnit,” he immediately started chest compressions.

Ellie’s legs gave out and she sat in shock. She had lost a lot but losing you felt like too much. You were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mom. You were her best friend. What the fuck was she supposed to do without you?

“...gotta be the hero—”

Joel was angrily muttering to you. Ellie could only make out occasional fragments, she wasn’t even sure he knew what he was saying.

“—let anyone else get hurt.”

His voice trembled with emotion.

“Couldn’t just let me…hard headed…”

He was openly crying now and getting slightly winded from the exertion. His body pink from the cold with steam rising off of him.

“—drive me damn insane,”

Ellie was now sobbing with him- broken gasps and labored breaths. She hugged her knees to herself and began rocking.

“…better start breathing I swear to god.”

The horse moved, catching her eye.

“Please- don’t leave me…”

She turned back and watched him desperately pound on your chest.

“—I fucking need you…you hear me?”

That was as close to a sleeping beauty moment that you’d ever get. You started violently coughing up water- expelling it from your lungs. He rolled you on your side so it was easier on you for you to spit up the liquid.

A rush of pure joy overcame him, “That’s it baby get it all out.”

Ellie crawled closer to you like she couldn’t believe that you were alive. Something red caught her eye. “Uh, Joel?” she pointed behind your head, her voice sounding so small.

He was so fixated on watching your face that he hadn’t seen the blood staining the white snow behind your head, “Fuck.”

As you continued to cough he felt around the back of your head. There was a small swollen knot that was split by a not so deep cut. There was no indentation which was his main concern. And head injuries bled a lot, he reminded himself as he looked at his now crimson coated hand.

The coughs slowed down but he started worrying why you weren’t shivering. He was shaking uncontrollably. You were still.

“Here’s what I need you to do- take the horse and bring all our stuff down here. We have to get her warm.”

Ellie was silent. Frozen in fear staring at the blood.

“Ellie…Ellie?!” He said loudly, snapping her out of it, “You hear me?”

“I- I’m on it.” She jumped on the horse and galloped away.

He pulled you so that you were propped up against a tree–he didn't want you to drown in the water you were clearing from your body. He brushed some hair out of your face with his numb fingers–he couldn't even feel the soft strands. Then he started to gather sticks for a fire.

You were in and out of consciousness. You mumbled a few times but never made much sense.

Ellie returned and helped Joel finish building the fire, it needed to be big. He kept repeating that to her.

They set up the tent. Facing it towards the fire so that the heat wafted and was captured underneath. Then he put all the sleeping bags and any fabric they packed inside. By this time Joel was shaking so bad he could barely pick up anything- now all of his appendages were numb. His tremors were now so severe that his speech was broken.

“I’m gonna ge-get all of these wet clothes–off of her, and get her in-inside.”

She nodded, liking the plan so far.

“Listen- I don’t know how to say this a-any other way, but we are going t-to be naked.”

She looked a little put off and confused.

“It’s just for bo-body heat, nothin’ weird.”

“Nothing, weird?”

“You-you know what, I- I mean,” he clenched his fists trying to demand that his body stop shaking.

“Ok so what do you want me to do?”

“I want you…to ta-take the rifle, and be on lo-look out…she has to ge-get warm–”

“Joel…I’ve got this. Just…take care of her..please.”

He nodded in an understanding agreement, if he takes care of you then everything else will be ok.

She picked up the gun and mentally started outlining a perimeter to pace.

He pulled you over to the fire and began to undress you. His hands fumbled with the buttons and he winced when he finally noticed that you were missing a boot. He removed your shirt and jacket, leaving your top half bare. His eyes traced the many forming bruises–nothing near as bad as the last time. Then his hands touched your belt buckle. Visions from mere hours ago when he was unfastening it for a completely different reason flashed before him.

Tears returned and he started sniffing loudly, ‘gah’ he helplessly croaked out as he removed the remaining clothing. Nothing more to note, just more of the same–discolored bruising and small scrapes.

The bleeding on the back of your head was slowing down, though he still wrapped the injury with gauze. The bandage wrapped around and covered the top of your forehead.

He laid you gently on top of a sleeping bag–the tent had a floor but he was trying his best to keep you from the cold ground. Then he put all the other sleeping bags, blankets, and even clothes on top of you. He took off his wet boxers and threw them out of the tent and snuggled as close to you as he could possibly get.

Your skin felt like ice. He hissed at the first contact but without hesitation pulled you to him even tighter. He was truly enveloping your form- legs were entangled, his broad chest and strong arms cocooned around you securely, even his neck and head curled into you. His hands rubbed up and down your back trying to create a warming friction–but you still weren't shivering…you should be shivering.

He didn't know what else to do, and maybe he'd done all that he could do, but that was hard for a man like Joel to accept.

He was warming up quickly, and as he regained some sense of touch, he started to feel your skin beneath his fingertips. You were so very soft, much too soft for hands like these he thought to himself.

Out of nowhere he started talking. He didn't know where it came from, he just opened his mouth and words began pouring out. He wasn't even aware of what he was saying until he heard Sarah's name.

He was telling you about his daughter he then realized.

You had only asked about her twice. Once at the beginning of your relationship when you found out about her for the first time–which led to him wrongly ignoring you for a whole week. And the second was when he screamed her name in a nightmare–he told you to never mention her again, and went for a walk that lasted a whole day. He didn't know why you put up with him.

Last time you were hurt, when he was so scared he was gonna lose you, he told you how she died. And even then, even after he had opened up and said her name for the first time in years, even knowing that he could trust you- that he loved you, he couldn't bring himself to talk about her…that was for some reason until this moment.

He told you about how smart she was, about how kind and funny, and caring. How she loved to make a big deal on his birthday and always found a way to surprise him with incredibly thoughtful gifts. That she loved to cook and take care of him, because she said he deserved to be taken care of.

And as he was telling you all of the wonderful things about his daughter it made him realize that she would have absolutely loved you. The two of you had a lot in common and would have probably harassed him into taking care of himself. His chest felt unbearably tight, he had hurt the both of you by not talking about her–by not talking about her he hadn’t let her memory live on, and by not telling you he had unintentionally kept a huge part of his heart hidden.

Suddenly he felt you. If he weren’t melded to you so tightly he probably wouldn’t have, but he did. You were starting to tremble.

“That's it baby. Warm up for me.”

He kept rubbing your back. He could feel a thin layer of sweat collect between you, it was from him he was certain. He'd gone from cold to warm to quite hot. The fire had heated up the small space in no time at all.

Before long chills started to shake your body and he could hear your teeth chattering. He felt you nuzzle closer to his chest.

“Sweetheart?”

“S’ cold.”

“You'll be warm in a minute.”

“Wha time is…?” your words were slurred.

“Late. We should probably wake up.” he really hoped that you would wake up, or at least seem more alert.

“Yea…”

And then you lost consciousness or fell back asleep one, or maybe both.

An hour or so passed and you were coming down from the worst of your chills. Your teeth were no longer clicking and your skin felt much warmer to the touch.

He felt your head shift to look up.

“Hey,” he smiled, warmly down at you.

“Hi,” you turned your head and took in your surroundings. Saying you were confused was an understatement. “Where are we?”

“You don't remember?” his brows creased and his smile drained from his face.

“I- I remember…ELLIE!” you sat up quickly, he did too.

“It’s ok, she's ok. I promise.” he pulled you into a hug and as your bare breasts brushed against his arm hair you noticed for the first time that you were naked–you both were.

“Joel, what the hell happened?” you asked into the crease of his neck.

He explained everything, and you were slowly able to fill all of the missing holes of your memory–the fall, the battle in the water, the rock that took you out.

“You saved me again,” tears fell from your eyes.

“Sweetheart I’ll save you everyday if you'll let me,” he wiped them away with his thumb, you heard the gauze rustle.

“Wha?” you reached up and felt the bandage seeming to cover your head.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he chuckled, “Just a little thing. I might have been…excessive.”

You laughed and the strain of it made you notice the pain in your chest. You placed your hand over your heart and looked at him, obviously confused.

“Yeah…that might hurt for a bit,” he winced. “You- you weren't breathing when I got you out of the water–”

“You had to do CPR!?”

“I did.” he swallowed thickly and looked away.

“Oh, Joel… thank you.” you moved your leg over his lap and straddled him, you grimaced, your body was more battered than you thought. He openly began to weep, sobs wrecked through his body. You rested his head to your chest, and rubbed the back of his head until his breaths calmed and his shaking stopped.

“Ya know, this would be really hot in other circumstances.” you weren't in the mood, not even close. You felt like you had been run over by a truck, you were just trying to lighten the mood. “In a tent, naked with you.”

He chuckled, you felt him smile against you. He turned and kissed your soft supple skin. “I’m so glad you're ok…when you fell, just you can't do that shit.”

You leaned away from him, “What? Save Ellie?”

“Can't just…react. I could have tied something together—”

“If she would have fallen into the water, I would have never forgiven you. You know that right?”

He shook his head, “I never would have forgiven myself but- but darlin’…jesus.”

“I don't want to fight. Not about this and not right now, my head is killing me, but know this Joel Miller- if either one of you ever need saving, and I can, I will.” You grabbed a dry shirt and pulled on over your head. “It isn't something up for discussion, and I won't be talked out of it. You jumped in the water to save me- that was dangerous, we sometimes do dangerous things for the ones we love.” He looked like a kicked puppy but you continued, “If I don’t act, if I sit back and think about it- took time to come up with a plan, and then lost you anyway…then what–then what would be the point?”

You put your hand behind his head and pulled him closer again, whispering against his face, “I know you'd do the same so don't play all high and mighty with me, you will always lose that battle,” you placed a kiss on his lips.

He returned the kiss eagerly. Your lips were chapped but they had never tasted better to him. He pulled you both up so that you were both kneeling, and he pressed your body into his. He wished you hadn't put on the shirt, despite all of the previous contact he still felt like he needed to feel you.

“Joel…” you reluctantly warned into his mouth.

“I know…I know–but god I just want to feel you right now.”

You hummed in agreement and stayed for another minute or two, and then slowly backed out of his embrace. He smoothed back his hair and looked around for his extra clothes. You threw his boxers at his face, he laughed and grabbed you back to him- suddenly catching you off balance and the jerking motion hurt your head.

You hissed and massaged your temple.

“Shit I’m sorry.”

“It's fine..I think I need to lie down.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just need a minute.”

“You rest,” he tucked you in and kissed your forehead, “I’m gonna tell Ellie that you're doin’ better.”

“Kay,” you closed your suddenly very tired eyes.

Come morning it was snowing. It was a pleasant snow, the kind that was peaceful to watch with large flakes that floated down to the earth. You had slept straight through the night. Joel and Ellie took turns, taking watch and staying by you. You woke with a ravenous appetite, and ate enough for three meals. Neither of them said a word, in a humorous delight- they just watched you scarf down the food.

They both insisted that you rode the horse on your journey home. You didn't want to, but you would admit that your equilibrium was still somewhat off, and your body was very sore. So you relented and did as they asked.

When you returned to Jackson, the doctor examined you and said that you had a mild concussion and were still experiencing the symptoms from hypothermia, but were otherwise fine. You'd just have to take it easy for a week or two.

A week later you were working back in the armory, this time though you had no complaints.

When you came home, you opened the door and was immediately hit with a delicious aroma, “Joel? Ellie?” you called out a little suspicious. You tended to be this family's chef.

“In the dining room,” Joel responded.

You could hear the two of them whispering hurriedly, and you heard silverware clanking around. When you entered the room your jaw dropped.

They were both dressed up. Joel with a nice dark blue buttoned up shirt that you'd never seen- the sleeves neatly rolled up, dark pants, and his hair looked styled with…what was that gel? Ellie was wearing a white buttoned up shirt, and she had her hair down with one small braid off to the side (you had taught her how to braid her horse's mane and she was getting proud of her skills).

The ambiance was almost romantic, dim with nothing but candles lighting up the room. The table was set like they were expecting royalty and they had a bottle of wine in front of where you usually sat.

Joel moved to your chair and held it out for you, “Your chair Madame.”

“What is this?” you hoped you didn't look as shocked as you felt. You did.

“I made you dinner.” Ellie said proudly, “So sit.”

She left abruptly to retrieve the food.

You chuckled and sat. Joel pushed you in like a gentleman and then placed your napkin in your lap. “Wine Madame?” He was trying to do a french accent but it oddly just sounded somehow even more texan.

You giggled, “Oui Monsieur.”

He laughed, “Am I not garcon?

“A little boy?”

He looked flustered, “Oh…I reckon I don't know much French.” He filled your glass almost to the brim. He looked nervous.

You giggled again, “I don't either.”

Ellie walked in with a massive pot. It was a stew loaded with meat and potatoes. Then she went back to the kitchen and brought out some bread rolls that she learned to make from a sweet old lady.

“Ellie…what is this about?”

“I just– I just wanted to do something special for you. Joel said that you mentioned doing this before and I thought it might be something nice for you. I just…you fucking saved me.”

“Ellie–”

“No, I know. It still just sucks. How do you thank someone for saving your life ya know?”

“Easy.” you smiled lovingly at her.

She tilted her head in curiosity.

“You live yours baby.”

She moved to you quickly, and sat in your lap.You held her tightly, and she pressed into the nook of your neck.

Joel shuffled and stealthily wiped his eyes.

She sat up and looked at you, her eyes were red, “I don't really want to cry any more.”

“Then hop up, and let's eat.”

She hugged you again and then stood.

“Tell me about what you made me.”

She smiled and told you about everything in great detail.

Dinner was immaculate, that sounds over the top but it truly was. Once you had all cleaned your plates she returned to the kitchen and brought out a pie. A pie!!! You don't want to admit it, really you don't, but you ate half of it.

You were so proud of her and kept flooding her with compliments.

When everyone finished, you tried to help clean but they shooed you away. Joel grabbed your plate from you and whispered in your ear, “Go take a shower, I'll be up in a minute,” and gave you a rather passionate kiss.

You ran upstairs and took a very quick shower, your body was throbbing with anticipation. But alas, with belly full wine, pie, bread, and stew- after your warm relaxing shower- laying on your comfy bed that smelled of Joel's masculine scent- with a content mind and body, you fell asleep in record time.

When he entered the bedroom he saw you splayed out on top of the bed. “Sweetheart?” he asked softly- when he heard you deep breaths he immediately knew that you were asleep. It was hard to be disappointed when you looked so beautiful. He softly caressed your cheek, almost in awe of how incredibly lucky he was. He managed to gently maneuver you so that you were under the covers. He tucked you in and kissed the tip of your nose.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt, opened the dresser, and hid the ring back inside.

--------

if I forgot to tag you I am so sorry: @givemeth , @farintonorth

#not for you rae 💖#joel miller x reader #my fics

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thotthumb · 2 months

Text

Robert Chase x Older! Man/Reader Brainrot

ADULT CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. DO NOT READ IF UNDER THE AGE OF 18

This was made with transmascs and men in mind! Please know that the reader has a dick or strap in this one!

Content Warnings: Chase is giving head to an older guy, power imbalance due to the positions held, office blowjob, under the desk blowjob, somebody walks in at the end, sex in front of somebody else but they don’t explicitly know

Word Count: 628

Authors Note: I’m just posting some brainrot that I’ve been sitting on. Should I try to make a part 2 of this one or just leave it?

“Four years of college, four at med-school, two years residency, another four years of sub-specialty training, and where do I end up?” “Between my legs with my cock down your throat, now stop talking and put this back in your mouth, Dr. Chase.”

How the fuck did he get himself in this predicament? He had a old ass but very attractive man fisting his hair in one hand and with their other hand pressing his fingers into the sides of his jaw to keep his mouth open wide. His throat had been bullied by what he’d personally call an oversized cock for what felt like hours but he knows it hasn’t. There was a clock on the shelf behind the desk he was currently hidden under that he could read. Yes, he’s under the desk of the Administrative Assistant, in his office at the hospital that they both work at.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, he knows he shouldn’t be giving head to his technical boss and especially not at his place of work! But there’s something about an older man just using his mouth to get off that seemingly fixes something (somebody get this man a therapy session and a dilf).

“Come on, put it in your mouth and make me feel good.” He urged, leaving Chase to grind against the older man’s outstretched leg with a slight shudder before finally taking the throbbing dick back into his mouth. He reached a hand down to the tight tent in his pants, borderline humping his hand in an attempt to relieve some of his need for friction. “There you go,” he grunted before a guttural groan slipped past, causing the older man to look towards the door to his office. He couldn’t tell if it was locked but he didn’t have any meetings scheduled so there shouldn’t be any interruptions. He wasn’t going to pull the young man off his length anyways.

“You can go farther than that, take it all,” Chase looked up to him through his lashes, asking if he had to because the amount he had taken was already a lot. “Don’t give me that look, you’ve taken all of it in every hole you have. You can do it again, brat,” He looked down at him with his lids half closed and a type of lust written on his entire face. Chase moaned lightly (to the best of his ability given his mouth being full) at his words. How can a professional speak that vulgarly?

His boss felt that he was taking too long to comply so he lifted up his hips, thrusting deep into his mouth and causing the poor man to gag, choking at the sudden intrusion. His hands immediately shot up to grip at his thighs, his lashes now clumped together with tears. He was trying so hard to even out his breathing and relax his throat, his nails digging into the flesh and leaving little crescent moons in the skin. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment only to open them widely when he heard the door to the office open.

His boss scooted forward in the chair, pushing Chase back further under the desk but also pinning him so he couldn’t take his cock out of his mouth. He grunted and the feeling of having his dick so far down his throat that he could feel Chase’s nose pressing against his stomach slightly. Chase could really only hope that this would be a short conversation otherwise with how sensitive the Administrative Assistant is currently he might end up just blowing down his throat. Especially with how he’s still rocking his hips in and out of Chase’s mouth while talking to.? Who came in again? “House? What are you doing here?”

Oh shit.

#smut #house md smut #house md #robert chase #Robert Chase smut #Robert Chase x reader smut #x male reader smut #Robert Chase x male reader smut #Robert chase x reader #Robert Chase x male reader #x reader #x reader smut #x male reader

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years

Text

Awake My Soul • 14

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 7.9k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: A LOT of torture, needles, syringes, mentions of blood, death, nightmares, someone not eating or sleeping, electroshock therapy, a gross thing with a tooth, suicide. Listen....it's a rough one, fam.

A/N: Thank you so so so much for being so patient as I wrote this. It might take the same amount with the others, but I promise I will finish this series and I'll do my best to give it the ending it deserves <3

Series Masterlist

**There is a playlist for this fic, but linking it here messes up the tags so feel free to check it out in the series masterlist!

Meine kleine Puppe - My little doll.

Bucky slammed the Hydra agent against the wall, his feet dangling in the air, hands clinging to the vibranium arm in a measly attempt to loosen the grip he had around his neck.

“Where is she?” He growled through clenched teeth, eyes blazing with unending, unbridled rage.

The agent, though very much struggling to breathe, let out a choked laugh. “As if I’d tell you scum. Hydra would kill me.”

Bucky pulled the agent away from the wall so he could slam him back into it, creating an outline of his body in the drywall. “I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t so ANSWER ME!”

“Bucky!” Steve shouted, but his friend kept his gaze on the snickering man before him. “Enough.”

Bucky tensed his jaw, finding the tiniest bit of comfort in the way the agent's face was turning blue.

“At least,” he gasped, “if I die now, it will be for a cause I believe in.”

His hand tightened around the agent’s neck.

“Don’t be fooled,” Bucky said, a smile creeping up his lips, “if you don’t talk now, I’ll make sure you wish you were dead before I finally end your useless, miserable life.”

Steve grabbed him by the shoulder, jerking him away. The agent fell to the ground, sputtering for air.

Bucky shoved Steve away. “You need to back off right now before-”

“Before what? You gonna torture me, Buck? Kill me? Is that the new norm when you’re upset? What the fuck is this, man?”

Bucky shook his head. “Lecture me all you want later, Steve. I’m doing what I need to do to get Y/n back. If you have a problem with that then fucking stay out of it.”

He turned to the fallen agent, grabbing him by the collar until their faces were inches apart.

“You think you have a cause worthy to believe in? You’re just a rat doing the bidding of people who could get two shits about you. If you want to support them? Follow them? Fine. But I’ll get you to talk, even if it costs you a few fingernails and teeth.”

The agent chuckled, his tongue sliding over his teeth. “Nice try, Mr. Barnes,” he said, then pulled out one of his back molars so effortlessly that Bucky flinched, shock preventing him from reacting in time as the agent broke the tooth between his teeth, a white, milky substance bursting into his mouth. “I’ll see you and your girlfriend in Hell.”

Bucky roared, shaking the man as blood dripped out of his eyes, body convulsing before going completely limp.

He threw his corpse to the ground, then punched a whole into the wall closest to him. “God FUCKING dammit,” he yelled.

“It’ll be okay, Buck,” Steve said softly, the regular mixture of concern and pity in his voice. “We’ll look somewhere else. Maybe there’s another agent hiding in this mall that we haven’t found yet.” He tried to rest a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder but he jerked away.

“Even if there were another one of these assholes, they would have heard us and booked it already, Steve,” he spit out. “This was our only shot! The closest we’ve been to finding her! And you fucking ruined it!”

Steve swallowed, maintaining a calm demeanor. “You and I both know he wasn’t going to tell you anything.”

“We could have at least tried to get something!”

“So what? You were going to break his bones and rip out his fingernails, Bucky? Is this who you are now, a monster like them?”

Bucky looked to the ground. “If it’s what I need to do to get her back.” His voice was softer, but still firm. Resolute in that horrifying statement.

Steve scoffed. “No way. I’m sorry man, but I’m not going to allow you to lose yourself to find her. She wouldn’t allow it either if she were here-”

“BUT SHE’S NOT HERE STEVE, IS SHE?” Bucky screamed, veins popping out of his forehead. “I let her come with me to save you and put her right back into their hands. She’s gone, and it’s all my fault.” His voice broke at the end, but he forced the tears to stay behind his red-rimmed eyes.

His friend relaxed, taking a step forward to once again attempt comforting his friend. “Buck…”

Bucky sniffled, taking a step back to kneel down by the fallen Hydra agent, inspecting for any clues. Steve stayed where he was, taking his cue to be silent.

When he deemed that there was nothing useful on the body he stood up, storming past Steve.

“We should head back.”

You had been gone 57 days.

Each one of them passed with such agonizing slowness and rapidity. Bucky felt each second pass that you weren’t there with him, palm pressed in his, head on his chest. He also felt the devastation of another day gone, of you being tortured by your captors. There was a gnawing feeling in the back of his mind telling him that time was running out.

But he couldn’t fucking find you, and it was breaking him.

That moment he awoke to find you gone, that silly goodbye note you had left begging him not to go look for you, Bucky allowed himself one minute to shatter. 60 seconds to let grief totally consume and paralyze him.

When that minute passed, he stood up and got to work.

Of course he, Steve, Yelena, Kate and Clint dropped everything and booked it to the Hydra prison, only to find it completely empty. Any trace of their existence there being the bloodstains that covered the building.

They searched miles and miles past the perimeter, Bucky only stopping when forced by the others as they commanded they take a break and rest. At least for the sake of the horses.

After a few days, they went back to Shield’s camp to regroup with the others and plan their next steps.

It had been an endless hunt ever since. Small packs of them searching different areas, searching for any sign of where they might have taken you.

Nothing.

No sign of Hydra was to be found. They had gone completely radio silent.

And Bucky was falling apart at the seams.

There were times - when he was riding Alpine through the woods towards his next destination, or when he was in the gym railing on the punching bag - that he would see you in the corner of his eye. He’d stop short, whipping his head around, tears welling in his eyes as he was met with nothing. His chest would rip freshly in two, just as it did the night you first left, and he’d run off with Alpine or slam his fist even harder on the punching bag.

At night, if he was able to sleep for even a few minutes, he’d dream of you.

It was always the same dream. You running through the woods, him chasing after you, trying to stop you from leaving. Your voice echoing in his mind as he screamed out your name.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t look for me.”

“Please.”

It would just make him run faster. If he was lucky enough to have a good dream, he’d manage to catch up and grab your arm. As soon as you spun around to look at him, he’d see the start of a smile forming on your face before he woke up.

Most nights, no matter how fast he ran, how loud he screamed out to you, he couldn’t reach you in time before you drifted out of sight.

No matter the outcome of the dream, he would wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, your voice still whirling through his brain.

“Don’t look for me.”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss you or throttle you after reading that note. How the actual fuck could you possibly think that he wasn’t going to go to the ends of the earth to find the woman he loved.

God, he wished he had fucking said it. The words had always been spoken humorously, but he meant it every time.

Bucky wondered if he had found the fucking balls to say it earlier, to try to find the words to tell you how much you meant to him, that it might have been enough to make you stay. That he might be able to get you to understand how much it would actually destroy him to not have you by his side. That he would have fought Hydra tooth and nail until he breathed his last breath if it meant he could wake up with you in his arms.

Or would it not have been enough, to know how much he loved you? Was leaving him easy for you? Were your feelings for him less consuming than his were?

No. He couldn’t think that way. Refused to think that way.

He knew how you felt about him. Knew it with every hug, every kiss, every fucking look you gave him that put butterflies in his stomach and changed his center of gravity.

“Don’t look for me.”

Sorry, Sweetheart, but I’m never going to stop looking until I find you.

Bucky would find you.

He had to.

There was no other option.

Bucky beelined to the meeting room as soon as they walked through the gates into Shield. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cass, AJ, and Morgan standing in the garden, none of them waving at him upon his return. When you left, he had grown even more cold and distant than he had when he thought Steve was dead along with so many of their family on the night of the Hydra attack. Even after that devastation, he was always able to manage enough energy to smile at their ridiculous jokes, or hug them back when they wrapped their tiny bodies around his massive one.

Now, with you gone, Bucky no longer had the heart to smile or laugh. Didn’t have the energy to fake enthusiasm when Cass told him he managed to do a full pull-up or when AJ asked him to sit at their table during dinner.

They didn’t even try to win his attention anymore, because he showed no interest in it, and that knowledge broke him more and more each day.

He wanted to tell them that he loved them all so much. Loved everyone here with his whole heart (or, what was left of it). That if he could smile at the dumb fart jokes Morgan made, he would. He just….couldn’t. Every moment he existed since you left was spent drowning, and Bucky didn’t have the strength to swim up for air.

The meeting room was empty when he walked in, and he went straight to the map that had now grown significantly since the gang started going past their comfort zones in search of you.

It was covered with dots, routes, red X’s, each spot a mark of failure.

Bucky lifted up the red marker and added another X to their most recent destination, the taste of iron on his tongue as he bit too hard on the inside of his cheek.

As his eyes stared blankly at the map before him, his mind wandered elsewhere.

“Is that all you got, Beefcake?” you taunted, fists shielding your face as you prepared for another attack.

Bucky grinned, pretending to act tough as he readied his next move when all he really wanted to do was cage your adorable, sweaty face in between his hands and kiss you until you passed out.

It had been a few days after the small fiasco at CVS, when Bucky found out you were immune and the two of you realized that the feelings you felt for one another were - believe it or not - reciprocated. You were already in the gym training with Yelena when he descended the stairs for his usual workout (one that had conveniently switched around to overlap with yours), and he felt his stomach do somersaults when your eyes met his and you took the fraction of a second you had to smile and wink at him before dodging another blow from your fierce trainer.

Once Yelena was done with you he stepped forward, challenging you to show him your ‘mad skills’ (as you called them).

Yelena just rolled her eyes with a snort, grabbing her things and running away to leave the two of you alone as you sparred.

“You’re talkin’ a big game for someone who’s about to get their ass kicked, Sweetheart,” he said in a low, menacing voice.

If he was being completely honest, Bucky was unsure of who was going to win. Though he knew you were amazing and strong and sexy and everything good in this world, he had always thought of himself as a top-level fighter. But, you had been training with the one person who had consistently been able to hand his ass to him, so it did make sense that you’d be able to do the same.

He was also way too distracted by the fact that this was the steamiest fight he had ever been in. The feel of your muscles tensing around him as you moved out of his hold, the way your chest moved up and down as you panted for breath, the small gasps you let out whenever he made a move you weren’t anticipating.

Bucky was an absolute goner, and all he could do was smile when you eventually jumped up his body, wrapped your legs around his neck and brought the two of you to the ground.

“Fuck YES,” you breathed out, doing a small fist bump in the air. “That’s the first time I’ve nailed the leg thing.”

Bucky chuckled, turning onto his side, head rested on his elbow as he stared at you. “It’s an honor to be your first victim, Sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows wiggled as a sly grin crept up your face.

It was silent for a few moments then, only the sounds of your heavy breathing echoing through the room. Bucky didn’t care, though. He was just so, ridiculously, stupidly happy to be able to stare into your eyes as you stared into his, the inches separating your lips growing smaller and smaller-

“Bucky.”

Bucky turned around as Sam and Steve walked in, their expressions stern.

He ignored their looks and turned back to the maps. “I was thinking we could try going farther North next time. I can be ready in a few hours and we can head out-”

“Bucky,” Sam repeated, crossing his arms. Him and Steve exchanged glances before turning back to their friend. “You’re being benched.”

His brows furrowed. “The fuck does that mean? This a baseball game or something?”

“It means,” Steve continued, hands on his hips, “that you aren’t leaving camp anymore. For the foreseeable future.”

He scoffed. “You’re grounding me?”

“We’re trying to keep you alive, man,” Sam said, eyes filled with sadness. “You can’t go on like this. You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, and now Steve is saying that you’re getting reckless and aggressive while out in completely new territory-”

“I have everything under control,” Bucky barked out, glaring at Steve, who directed his attention to the floor in front of him. “You can’t make me stay in my room to think about what I’ve done instead of going out and finding her.”

“You don’t have it under control, Buck!” Sam yelled. “You’re making too much noise. There’s no secrecy, no tactfulness, just you blindly going into danger and compromising you and whoever you’re with.” He sighed, running a hand over his face.

Steve took over. “Bucky, look, we all want her back as much as you do - don’t roll your eyes at me - but if you’re going to continue to make it so obvious to Hydra that we’re hunting them, they’re either going to take us out or move farther and farther away until there’s no chance of finding her. Or worse, they’ll decide she’s not worth the trouble and kill her without second thought.” Bucky punched the wooden desk next to him. “You have to hear us on this, Bucky. Your caring too much is making you careless, and all of us could pay the price for it. Y/n especially.”

“And just because you’re not going out anymore doesn’t mean that we won’t either,” Sam said. “We’re going to keep searching until we get answers. We won’t give up on her.”

Bucky stared at them for a few moments, expression hard and - if he were being honest - the tiniest bit hateful.

“If she dies because I wasn’t able to find her in time, I’ll never forgive either of you.”

He walked out before they could get a word in, too ashamed by the looks of devastation on their faces.

He went straight to your room and slammed the door shut behind him, pacing and running his hands over his head.

It was all so overwhelming, the amount of emotions running through him. Pain, guilt, anger, confusion, anxiety. His brain was so overloaded that he couldn’t even feel any of them.

Eventually he laid down in your bed, face pressed against the pillow.

He started ‘resting’ (if you could even call it that) in your room after you had left. It was this strange, instinctive need to be surrounded by your scent, to breathe in the air you once inhabited. Even the faint imprints in your mattress formed by your body was something he craved.

Eventually, breathing into your pillow, his eyes fluttered closed and he dozed off.

You were running away from him in the woods.

He sprinted as fast as he could.

Until finally….he was able to reach out for your hand.

When he spun you around, blood was pouring out of your eyes, and you screamed when you saw him.

He awoke with his own scream trapped in his throat, sitting up in bed as he caught his breath. Though the dream only lasted a few seconds, the darkness outside your window indicated that hours had passed.

More time wasted when he could have been back out finding you.

Fuck this, Bucky thought, standing up and grabbing his pack. They can’t keep me locked in here.

Bucky quietly opened the door, creeping down the hallway as he snuck out of the dorms.

“Going somewhere?” a low, Russian accent asked casually from the shadows behind him.

He stopped, head hanging low in defeat.

“Stay out of this, Yelena,” he replied flatly.

He saw her feet walk past him. “Follow me, Barnes.”

With an annoyed sigh, he followed her.

Yelena led them to the gym, neither of them saying a word as their steps echoed down the stairs and into the open basement.

She walked over to the corner, grabbing two pairs of boxing gloves and handing one of them to Bucky.

He looked at the gloves, then at her, and when she raised her eyebrows in a wordless challenge, he grabbed them and put them on.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” he asked with no attempt to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“Hit me,” was all she said, arms limp by her side.

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“Hit me.”

He let out a confused chuckle, shaking his head. “Yelena, I don’t know what your plan is, but me hitting you isn’t going to-”

Bucky let out a small oof as the small Russian’s fist socked him in the jaw, his giant body stumbling back.

He slowly turned back at her, anger bubbling in his chest. “What the fuck was-”

She punched him again, this time in the stomach.

“Come on Barnes, we don’t have all night,” she said, taunting him. “Just fucking punch me already-”

Yelena was on the floor before she could finish the last word, and Bucky’s right arm was fully extended, his chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline.

When she stood back up, there was a smile on her face.

“Good.” And then she was winding up for another strike.

It was the literal definition of a tit-for-tat, Yelena getting a blow on him, and Bucky getting the next.

At first it all felt childish, like they were just two punks trying to see who could wail on the other person the hardest.

But there was so much more to it, Bucky began to realize. All this time, he had been filled with such anger and aggression that he tried to release through the inanimate punching bag, a zombie who mistakenly crossed his path, or a Hydra agent who would just laugh in his face at the pain and rage behind his eyes.

Here, with Yelena, someone who was filled with the same agony he felt, meeting him punch for punch as tears filled their eyes, it was like there was someone here who understood the emotions ripping their way through him constantly.

Like he was finally able to fully let go.

The more they fought, the more exhausted his body became, the less he was able to hold everything in.

It was even worse because the friend before him had this look in her eye the entire time, a look that told her that it was okay. That she was there for him. That she could handle this burden for him.

Then, finally, as he raised his right fist to ready another hit, the breath he took in hitched, and was followed by a small sob.

His fists lowered to his sides, feet shuffling side to side as he tried to balance himself, emotion completely washing over him.

He was on the ground instantly, elbows on his knees, face in his gloved hands as he body shuddered from the wails choking out of him.

Yelena removed her gloves and knelt behind him, wrapping her arms around his and squeezing him as he cried.

They stayed there for what could have been minutes or hours, he truly couldn’t tell. Eventually, his sobs turned to soft sniffles, and his shoulders stopped shaking.

Yelena took that as her cue to release her hold on him, and she moved to sit by his side, staying silent as she waited for him to regain composure.

“Thank you,” he finally croaked out.

She nodded, pressing a finger under her nose to check for blood (there wasn’t, and Bucky let out a small sigh of relief).

His brows furrowed when she let out a scoff. “This actually wasn’t as bad as I was anticipating,” she said. “When Clint had me do this with him right after losing Natasha, I nearly shattered his nose.”

When Bucky laughed this time, it was genuine. “Well, I made sure not to get your face with the metal arm. Even with the gloves, I feel like that would have done some nasty shit.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, lightly punching his arm. “I’m sure Kate will, too.”

The two shared a laugh, and then the Russian’s face went a bit more somber. “I know how much it hurts, Bucky. How unbearable it is when you’ve lost someone so important. How much easier it feels to just shut down. But we have to think about what the people we love would want for us. Natasha…Natasha was the only family I had for a really long time. And I thought she was all I was going to have. All I wanted to have. And when she was gone, I didn’t want anyone else to fill in the void left behind by her. I couldn’t even look at Kate for a few weeks, because I felt guilty about seeking comfort from someone who wasn’t my sister. Like I shouldn’t be allowed to feel anything else but sadness because someone I loved so much wasn’t here anymore.”

Bucky nodded, tears continuing to stream down his face as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He thought about Steve, the way he had been so cold towards his best friend because he didn’t feel like he deserved to be comforted.

“Eventually I realized that Natasha would have hated that, to see me so lonely and isolated because of her. Like I was doing it as a favor to her, even though it was just a waste of a life that still had a chance to live, to carry on with the love shared between my sister and I.”

She rested a hand on his shoulder. “You, Barnes, you need to keep fighting the pull toward that empty void, that urge to shut down. Not just because there are people in this camp who love you and don’t want to lose you, but because Y/n would be devastated to see that the love you two shared was locked up and hidden away forever. And not only that, but I know with every fiber of my fucking being that she is still alive, and she deserves better than to be reunited with a cold, distant version of you.”

Bucky’s gaze went to the ground, vision blurry as he continued to cry silently.

Then, without a word, he stood up, taking off his gloves.

Just as Yelena was about to stand, he extended a hand out toward her. She smiled, grabbing it as he hoisted her up, wrapping his arms around her as soon as she was vertical.

“Love you, Lena.”

“Love you too, Barnes.”

When Bucky returned to your room later that night, the moment his head hit the pillow he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of his stomach growling, and Bucky got up to grab himself breakfast.

Lately, whenever he did eat (which was rare these days), he would simply sneak into the cafeteria and grab a bowl of food left aside for him by Dum Dum and escape back to your room to eat by himself.

He was about to do the same today when something caught his ear, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Dear Ella. Impatience is not usually my weakness. But your letters torment me.”

His chest swelled at the familiar words, and Bucky turned his attention to Morgan, AJ, and Cass sitting together at their usual table. Morgan held the book up as she acted out the words she read, the boys completely enraptured.

Unable to help himself, Bucky’s feet pivoted, and he walked over to them.

Three sets of eyes were on him in an instant; wide, hesitant, and a bit confused. The new Bucky they had come to know never seemed to want anything to do with them.

“Where’d you find that?” he asked, gesturing to the movie tie-in copy of Ella Enchanted he had gotten you months prior.

Morgan gave him a sad smile. “It was left outside my room after….after Y/n went missing.”

He nodded, hand smoothing over her head.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Three heads nodded up at him, eyes now wide with excitement.

Bucky sat down next to AJ. “I fucking love this book.”

Giggles erupted from the kids at both the admission and the curse word, and Bucky found himself laughing along with them.

“Alright Morgan, keep going.” He took a big spoonful of oatmeal and gulped it down. “Shit’s about to go down with Ella.”

More giggles followed, and then Morgan continued reading. Occasionally the boys would make gagging sounds when something overly romantic happened, but that didn’t stop them from begging for her to keep going at the end of each chapter.

Every so often, Bucky would catch someone in the corner of his eye stopping to stare at the scene before them. At one point he looked over once to see Yelena and Kate watching them from their own table, and Yelena winked at him when their eyes met.

Cass and AJ eventually made their ways onto Bucky’s lap, their heads resting on his shoulders as they listened to Morgan.

He had missed this. Missed spending time with the kids, giggling along with them, hugging them with reckless abandon. He promised himself that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t take it for granted ever again.

“And so, with laughter and love, we lived happily ever after.”

The table - and Dum Dum - erupted with applause as Morgan finished the last sentence, and she stood from her seat to give them all a grand bow.

“Next time, I want to be the one to read!” Cass exclaimed.

“No, I want to read!” AJ pouted.

Bucky chuckled, lowering them to the ground as he stood. “You can both have a chance to read, guys. We can make a book club and everything.” His heart stung for a second at the memory of you saying almost the exact same words during one of your first watch assignments, but the smile didn’t leave his face as the kids cheered loudly at the proposition.

“Is this book club exclusive, or can other people join?” Bucky turned to see Steve standing there, a small, grateful smile on his face.

Bucky nodded. “The more the merrier, Stevie.”

His best friend nodded, jaw clenching as he slapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He responded by pulling Steve in for a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky grumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

He felt Steve nod again. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Love ya, punk.”

“Love you too, jerk.”

They exchanged playful hits to one another's shoulders before heading out of the cafeteria, Dum Dum giving them a small salute as they left.

“I know you’re probably busy,” Bucky started, holding the door open for Steve as they stepped outside. “But are you down to play a round of War-”

The gates creaked open in front of them, Clint, Laura, and Sarah running through.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, the two of them following behind as their friends ran by.

“Sarah, get your brother. Laur, go find the others.” was all Clint said as he stormed up the stairs to the meeting room.

“Can someone please tell us what the hell is going on?” Bucky asked, hands on his hips.

Clint ignored him, walking over to the disheveled map, his fingers tracing along some invisible route.

Then, his finger stopped, and he turned around until his eyes locked on Bucky’s.

“We found her.”

You ran through the woods, gasping for air, limbs exhausted, hands gripping to each tree for any added support you could get.

You just had to go a little farther, a few more miles.

Just to be sure.

Put some distance between you and them.

Your brain was so panicked, so tired, that you couldn’t even remember how you escaped Hydra.

It didn’t matter. You were free. You were safe.

A hand gripped your arm from behind, stopping you so immediately that you almost fell on your back from the force of it.

Instead, you found the strength to keep yourself upright, pulling away from your captor.

But then…you heard the voice.

“Sweetheart,” the soothing, baritone sound caused a wave of relief to wash through you.

You whipped around, breathing out a small whimper as you looked at his smile, his eyes.

Those perfect, adoring, cerulean irises.

“Bucky,” you gasped, jumping into his arms as he held you in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered into your ear, and you clung to him.

“I missed you so much.”

“Why did you leave?” he asked, arms nearly crushing you.

You took a sharp inhale from the growing discomfort of his hug. “I…thought it would be for the best. I thought it would keep you safe.”

Silence.

“Bucky?”

“You’ll never keep me safe, sweetie.” The bite in his voice was unfamiliar to you.

You tried to pull away to see his face. “Bucky, what’s going on? You’re hurting me.”

A menacing, familiar chuckle rumbled in your ear. “Did you really think coming back would keep them safe? That we wouldn’t go after them as soon as we broke you?”

You cried out, finally registering this new voice.

With all of your might, you pushed away from the suffocating hold.

Brock Rumlow smiled at you.

“Time to wake up, sweetie.”

You screamed.

The scream echoed in the room as you jolted awake, limbs pinned to your body with thick leather straps.

You gasped for air, eyes wide, evaluating your surroundings.

No longer in the woods, you were in the testing room that you had frequented for weeks. The cold, stinging feeling of something around your neck, a phantom pain on your skin where it touched you.

That feeling lasted at least an hour after the onslaught of electrocution the collar emitted.

You wondered how long you had been out for this time. Was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? It was different each time, depending on how many rounds of shock torture you had gone through for the day.

“You did very well, Meine kleine Puppe,” Zola said with a level of enthusiasm that made you sick. “Your vitals have already risen to normal levels in such a short time, and you managed to last five whole minutes before going unconscious.” He walked into your line of sight, jotting down notes on his clipboard.

You glared at him. “What do I get as a reward? Six more minutes of electrocution?” you spat out.

“You know this can all end, sweetie,” Brock cooed, and you turned to the shadows in the corner of the room, making out his cross-armed silhouette. “Tell us everything we want to know about Shield and Banner and we’ll make all the pain go away.”

“So you can go take down their camp like you promised not to, even though that’s the only fucking reason I’m here? No way. I’ll gladly stay in this hell and keep you here with me, Rumlow.”

He jumped up, charging over until he hovered over your prone form, face inches from yours. “Listen here, you little bitch,” a fleck of spit hit your forehead, but you refused to flinch, matching his death glare. He squeezed your face in between his hand, jerking it to the side to expose your neck. “I know this bite is new, that Shield had to have found out about your special blood.” Brock stood up straight, attempting to tower over you as an intimidation tactic. “Ward says that mad scientist can solve anything, including developing a cure for everyone based on the shit flowing through your veins. He figured it out, and you’re going to tell us how.”

You lifted your shoulders as high as you could while tied down to the chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brock,” you responded in a mocking, sickly sweet voice.

You heard the crack before feeling his fist slamming into your jaw.

Blood pooled in your mouth, and once the initial shock had worn off and you were able to turn your neck, you spit out the iron substance on the floor.

“I swear to god Y/n, we are going to hunt them down and make each and every one of them suffer twice as much as you have. Even the fucking kids. All the while telling them that it was your fault-”

“Enough, Rumlow,” Johann Schmidt’s voice echoed in the room, sending chills down your body as it always did. Even Brock’s eyes widened ever so slightly from the sharp tone of his leader.

Brock looked up. “Sir, I apologize, it’s just that we’ve been trying to break her for weeks-”

“Have you really been trying?” Schmidt countered, a hint of mocking amusement in his voice. “If you had, she would be crawling at your feet by now.”

Rumlow opened his mouth as if to argue with his superior, but closed it before saying something that might put him in a chair similar to yours.

Johann continued, walking up to Zola’s side. “Sure, we could go on over to that tiny Shield camp and burn it to the ground just like last time,” you clenched your fists, “but where’s the fun in that?” He rested a hand on the scientist’s shoulder as they shared a knowing grin. “Me? I’d rather spend our time learning how to make a seemingly strong mind shatter to pieces.” He moved to you, stroking your cheek with his pointer finger.

You spat more blood in his face. Johann closed his eyes, only appearing slightly annoyed at this sign of disrespect as he slowly wiped his face.

His lips curved upward into a wicked grin. “Looks like someone’s ready to get started. Zola?”

The scientist approached, a syringe filled with clear liquid in hand.

Your body jerked instinctively, trying to get away from yet another needle.

Still, even as your body was going into panic mode, you found the courage to stare Johann in the face right before the substance was injected.

“I don’t care how confident you are,” you said, head immediately starting to feel dizzy, eyelids heavy, “I’ll never betray the ones I love.”

Johann simply chuckled. “You’re loyal to a fault, pet. It’s clear as day to anyone who comes across you. Our goal isn’t to change that level of loyalty…” He moved to whisper into your ear, his voice slowing and slurring as your brain grew more and more foggy, fighting to process his words.

“I’m simply going to make you loyal to me.”

The drug flowing through your veins was so strong that when you finally closed your eyes, there were no comforting blue eyes to greet you as you fell into darkness.

When you finally woke up some time later, you realized in horror that you were met with the same level of blackness with your eyes open as you were when they were closed.

After so many years of traveling under the cover of night, your eyesight had developed so significantly that you could see almost as well in darkness as you could in daylight, able to use any sliver of light available to make out objects, landscapes, people, undead.

This was different.

This blackness surrounding you was man-made, and it was unforgiving. There was no light, no shadows, nothing. Just darkness.

You felt around the ground, trying to make out your surroundings, only to be met with cold concrete.

Standing up, limbs heavy from whatever drug lingered in your bloodstream, you walked around until you found the walls. Whatever room you were in was small, the only thing inside here being a toilet.

One part of the wall felt more hollow than the rest.

It was a door. A locked one, but still a way out.

You pushed harder, and nothing happened.

You slammed your fist against it. It didn’t budge.

You screamed. The movement of your vocal cords brought your attention to your neck.

Where the collar still remained.

“I see you have finally woken up, pet,” Johann’s voice echoed in the room and you jumped, eyes searching the darkness for the source, fists clenched and ready to strike.

“Now, now, no need for that,” he cooed, and you whipped around and swung, your punch meeting air. “You won’t be able to hurt me or anyone else in here, pet.”

That was when you caught the crackling in his voice, and you realized he was speaking to you through an intercom.

“What’s your grand plan, Schmidt?” you taunted, throwing your hands up in the air. “Gotta tell ya, I stopped being afraid of the dark long ago.” Not a fan of this level of darkness, though, you added in your mind.

No response.

“Oh, so now you’re afraid to reveal this new tactic? Don’t want to give anything away? Afraid of me finding out?”

Once again, your questions were met with silence.

It was so unsettling, you found yourself wishing to hear the monstrous voice of your captor.

Sixty long seconds passed.

Then, you heard a different voice than Johann’s through the intercom.

“Bucky,” the new voice said in a low, neutral tone.

And then the collar around your neck surged, pain ripping through your body, the bite on your neck burning.

You screamed, clinging to the device to try and rip it off.

The charge didn’t let up, and soon you were writhing on the floor, tears streaming down your face.

It took you five minutes to pass out.

You were back into the woods, running….

A hand wrapped around your arm, turning you around…

Bucky….

His name flowing through your subconscious caused a small tingle in your neck.

Just as he reached up to touch your face….

You woke up, greeted once again by the overwhelming darkness of your new prison cell.

How much time had passed? How long had you been in here?

The thought made your skin itch.

“How long do you plan on keeping me in here, Schmidt?” you asked as you stood up, forcing your voice to not shake. “Don’t you want to rip into my body more and see what makes me tick?”

No one answered, and all you were met with was the same, terrifying silence.

Until….

“Bucky.”

The collar went off again, the immediate onslaught of pain brought you to your knees in an instant.

You used all of your strength to try to pull the collar off, writhing and screaming in pain.

Until everything went black once more.

You were running in the woods…

Bucky grabbed you…

Your neck felt a tiny sting of pain….

He raised a hand….

You awoke, body covered in sweat.

“Whatever you’re doing isn’t going to work!” you screamed once you had finally composed yourself.

The third time you heard the person say Bucky over the intercom, a tiny part of your mind felt disdain for the name.

Each unconscious dream was the same - as it had been when they first started torturing you to the point of passing out. It had always provided a small source of comfort to help you go on.

But as each round of electrocution came, and the dream repeated itself, it began to gradually shift.

Each time you saw Bucky, when his name entered your mind, the phantom pain in your neck would grow.

When he reached his hand to touch your face, it became less comforting, and made you more uneasy.

You’d wake up, completely disoriented, body exhausted, brain in such a deep fog that you would sometimes need a handful of seconds to remember where you were. Or worse, what life had been like before the dark room.

And the more you went into the safe place in your subconscious, the less safe it felt.

The more times you met Bucky’s eyes, the more fearful you came of this person grabbing you in the middle of the woods.

Who was he again?

Bucky.

The source of your pain.

Your neck burned when you were awake and when you were unconscious, and it was because of Bucky.

You had lost count of the number of shocks you had endured, the number of times you had allowed the darkness to consume you.

At some point though, when your mind and body were totally spent, you heard the name over the intercom, and a whimper escaped your mouth before the shocks started up again.

That time, when you saw Bucky, his eyes were black, menacing, his smile malicious.

And when he reached up to touch you, he wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed.

When you came to, the scream that left your tired body was almost inhuman.

Schmidt stood in the observation room, hovering over the Hydra agent that was conducting the experiment.

He was amazed that you had lasted three whole days, even after having to send a few medics to check on your vitals for the times you remained unconscious for hours at a time.

The whole process had taken longer than expected, but he knew he would eventually break you.

Just as he had broken the others.

He stared at the screen, a cruel grin on his face as he watched your body tremble on the ground, crying for help, begging to be saved from your once beloved Bucky.

“Bring them in,” he finally murmured, not even bothering to turn his head towards the other agent who silently stepped out of the room.

It wasn’t often that Johann Schmidt felt any semblance of excitement in his life. Usually it was all too much dulled by the stupidity and inadequacy of the human race. He had felt it a few times before; when they had first injected the serum into your veins to prevent the zombie virus from spreading through your system, or when they turned Rogers into a superhuman.

Nothing could ever top the day he and Zola managed to create a virus so catastrophic, that they broke the entire world.

This moment though, one that he had been preparing for since you first escaped, this one came close to that level of excitement he felt five years ago.

Now, it was time for the real fun to begin.

Your body was glued to the hard floor, every inch of your skin pulsing from the lingering pain that you were convinced would never go away.

You trembled with each rasping inhale of breath, praying that one of them might be your last. That you could finally be put to rest and never have to exist in this horrible, horrible world.

An unending darkness, one that didn’t scare you, but brought comfort, peace.

A bright light illuminated the entire room and your eyes squeezed shut as you hissed in pain, the sudden contrast too overwhelming.

When you slowly blinked them open, everything was a bit blurry as your sight adjusted, taking in the small, white-walled room.

In the top corner, you saw a camera pointing towards you.

Over the sounds of your heavy breathing, you heard the locked door slowly creep open.

When you saw the two people in front of you, you wondered for a moment if this was just a new dream you had created. That your mind was still being tormented and that the pain would soon return.

Or maybe you were finally dead, and they were here to comfort you as you passed on.

Regardless of whatever your current circumstance was, your heart swelled as they walked slowly toward you, tears in the woman’s eyes as she knelt down, a silver collar that matched yours around her neck.

Her pupils were so dilated they looked almost black. Still, you could see the inherent kindness that had always existed behind them.

“Sersi?” you said in wonder, then turned your gaze to the man standing behind her, a small smile on his face, same black eyes, same silver collar. “Druig?”

“Y/n,” Sersi exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. You clung to her.

“It’s good to see you, Birdie,” Druig said fondly. Hearing the nickname he had given you years ago had your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.

Sersi rubbed your back. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

You nodded, tightening your hold as she whispered into your ear. “Bucky won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

Chapter 15

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #zombie apocalypse au #zombie au #awake my soul

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vioartemis · 1 year

Text

This isn't about wolfing out, is it?

(Enid Sinclair x fem! reader)

Summary: You confort your "best friend" Enid after her mom gave her the brochures for conversion therapy. Warnings: angst (a little), fluff, lesbian Enid, slight homophobia (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Since you've arrived at Nevermore, Enid has always been by your side. She was your best friend. But recently she's been distant, almost avoiding you, and you didn't understand why.

You didn't do anything wrong, as far as you could remember, so her newly cold behavior was giving you anxiety. Maybe you did do something wrong without noticing...

You tried to talk to her, but every time she found an excuse to run away. You finally decided to let her alone for a little while, thinking she would come back to you eventually.

That was 2 weeks ago. You missed your best friend. You had to talk to her.

The thing is, it was parents weekend, so she was busy with her family while yours couldn't make it.

You were reading, sitting in a tree, when you heard Enid's voice coming from right under the tree. You paused your reading to listen. Maybe, maybe, you had a little, tiny crush on her, and it's been ages since you heard her speak more than 3 seconds.

Her voice was so relaxing to you, you didn't even paid attention to what she was saying. Until you heard her mom speaking to her.

"Oh, no need to be dramatic Enid"

"You want to send me to conversion therapy for werewolves!"

"Don't you want to wolf out and finally be normal honey?"

"But-"

"Enid, honey, you have to understand. You're such a disappointment for the family. Don't you want to do something about it?"

You almost fell off the tree when you heard that. The only thing you could think about was how much you wanted to punch that lady in the face. Really, really hard.

But before you could do anything, you heard footsteps and saw Enid going back into the academy. You didn't hesitate and ran after her.

You only managed to caught her when she was about to enter her dorm.

"Enid.."

She stopped, hand on the door handle, but didn't turn around.

"I'm really not in the mood Y/n. Go away. Please.."

You felt your heart break hearing the little crack in her voice. She wasn't okay, you knew it, and you had to do something.

"I- I heard what your mom said.. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't spying on you or anything! I just.. Enid if you need to talk.. I'm here for you.."

"..."

"Enid please.." you started to tear up "Please talk to me.."

She finally decided to turn around, just to almost instantly break down into your arms. You held her tight, playing softly with her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

After a little while, she lets go a little, looking at you with her now red and puffy eyes.

"... Can you stay with me a little longer..?" she murmured

"Of course.."

She nodded slightly, a tiny smile making its way up to her face, before opening the door of the dorm to let you in, guiding you to her bed. She gestured you to take place on it, before sitting next to you, not letting go of your hand.

"... I can't believe she wants to send me there.." Enid finally said after a while.

"Enid.."

"But she's not wrong, is she? I'm a huge disappointment.. "

You clenched your jaw, moving your hand out of her grip to cup her cheeks and look directly in her blue eyes.

"You are not a disappointment Enid. You hear me? You will wolf out. Don't even doubt it. It may be in weeks or months, but you will. And you'll make a perfect werewolf. You're an amazing person Enid Sinclair. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise."

She didn't say anything, avoiding your gaze, looking at the wall, as if she was.. ashamed.

Your hands fell slowly, letting go of her face.

"This isn't about wolfing out, is it?" you asked softly

"..."

"Enid.. you can tell me everything.. I'll always be here for you"

Her gaze met yours once again, and you could see the tears in her eyes.

"I.." she took a deep breath "I'm lesbian Y/n.. she wants to send me to conversion therapy because I like girls.. because I like a girl.."

You took her hands in yours, a little smile on you face.

"I swear I will not let her send you there. You're perfectly fine, you don't need therapy or anything. And.. who's the lucky girl..? If you don't mind me asking"

You didn't want to ask. You didn't want to be hurt. You didn't want to hear her say a name that wasn't yours. Because why would it be you? Why would she have feeling for you? How can someone like her be interested in someone like you?

".. It doesn't matter, she doesn't love me anyways.."

"Well.. she sounds kinda stupid.. why wouldn't she love you? You're literally perfect! You're the best girlfriend someone could ever have! I'd be the happiest girl in the world if you were my girlfriend.."

"So.. you're saying you'd like to be my girlfriend..?"

Realizing what you said, you blush hard. Fuck. That was not the plan. But it's to late now.

"Y-yes. I.. I am in love with you, Enid Sinclair. Very in love with you"

Now it's her turn to blush, mouth half opened. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you're going to lose her. Maybe-

"Can I kiss you..?" she asked, staring deep into your e/c eyes

You nod slightly, not believing she really asked that. But the distance between you two slowly decreased, it couldn't be denied.

She stopped, her lips a few inches away from yours, her left hand on your right cheek.

You were the one who closed the small gap between you two, crashing your lips against hers in an almost desperate kiss.

Her lips were so soft.. She tasted like cotton candy..

You lost yourself in the kiss, not wanting it to end, as if she was going to disappear if you pulled away. You had to, eventually, gasping for air.

She pressed her forehead against yours, a beautiful smile on her lips.

"I love you Y/n L/n.. I love you so much.."

#enid sinclair x fem reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wlw #enid x reader #wednesday #enid sinclair

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

Text

Arms Tonite (part 1)

Who needs therapy when you can work yourself to exhaustion? Not these boys!

Characters: Riddle, Ruggie, Azul, Jade, Crewel (mentioned)

CW// exhaustion, passing out, illness, implications of disordered eating, food mentions, vomiting (not related to the disordered eating), hurt/comfort

Riddle

“I’m perfectly fine.” Riddle had insisted, standing up straight, “I understand the importance of sleep, but I have to finish this. It’s the last thing I have to do, then after that I’ll rest.”

In a rare occurrence, Riddle managed to be breaking not only his own rules, but also his mother’s rules and the queen of hearts rules, all for a paper. The paper in question? Headmage Crowley asked him for a semester’s report of not only the Heartslabyul dorm, but the overall management committee (consisting almost entirely of Riddle)

“Please, you look exhausted.” You begged, grabbing his shoulder, “You won’t put your best work in if you’re tired.”

“It’s due in three hours, Prefect. I can’t simply abandon the task. And like I said, I’ll rest once it’s finished.” He sighed and shoved some papers around before pulling out his pen because, yes, he is handwriting this report in his delicate cursive. Every letter nearly penned to perfection.

You sat near him in the library, cradling a to-go cup of tea. You had managed to get him to eat, at least, and have some tea of his own to drink, but it seemed very little else was going to make him budge. The only thing that could stir him from his task was maybe the dorm getting set aflame.

After sitting quietly and playing on your phone for a solid two and a half hours, Riddle finally stretched and let out a sigh. “Done.” He murmured, standing up, “That complete’s this week’s tasks. I’m finally….” He blinked, staring into the distance for a moment before shaking his head as if too clear it, “I’m finally done.” He smiled, “Thank you for keeping me company, Prefect.”

“Of course,” you responded, standing up and stretching as well, “It’s not every day you break the rules, much less pull an all nighter and a half.”

Riddle hummed, attention solely on fixing his appearance. He fussed and fussed with his tie before sighing and simply taking it off, earning a surprised reaction from the Ramshakle Prefect.

“I believe it’s time for breakfast about now.” He said, taking a shaky step around the table, “Would you like me to escort you?”

You shook your head, eyes narrowed, “Riddle, you said you’re going to rest now.”

“I have to deliver this to the Headmage-“

“You need to rest.” You insisted, looping an arm around his bicep, “You’re not used to this, and you’re not really built to be off your schedule. You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine.” He snapped, making a weak attempt to snatch his arm back, “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine.” You said sternly, forcing him to look at you, “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird for like, a week.”

“It’s nothing.” He insisted, refusing to look you in the eye, “It’s…”

He suddenly went very still, then began to sway on his feet. He shook his head again, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, “I’ve been having nightmares.” He finally admitted, still not looking at you, “About my…”

You nodded, finishing for him, “Your overblot?”

He nodded, his grip tightening on you for a moment, like he was worried he may fall, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, sounding like a scared child, “You’re my friend, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You frowned and pulled him a little closer, “You won’t hurt me. Everything’s okay, it’s alright. C’mon, you need to-“

Suddenly, Riddle’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he became dead weight in your arms. He slumped into your grip, head thudding gently against your chest.

“Riddle!” You yelped, adjusting your grip before carefully scooping him up, “Holy shit. Riddle? Riddle?!”

Your yelling did not stir him, but it was clear he was still alive. As you carried him bridal style to the infirmary, he began to wake.

“H…huh? Wha’s going on?” He slurred, blinking at you blearily.

“You’re going to the infirmary.” You said firmly, “You passed out. Something might be wrong.”

He shook his head and tried to squirm in your grip, but his attempt as escape was stopped with the stern look on your face. Instead, he ended up shrinking back, going frozen in your arms. “I-“

“If you try and say ‘I’m fine’ again, I’m going to tell the medic to keep you locked in there for a full day. You’re not okay.” You said, turning the corner toward the infirmary. “It’s okay that you need help, but you really scared me.”

He was silent as you carried him inside, laying him down gently on the bed before running off to tell the nurse what happened.

He didn’t bother a third escape attempt, as he knew that it would do nothing but serve to frustrate you further, and he wouldn’t make it far.

He felt helpless as you looked over at him worriedly,but simultaneously felt warm and soft. His mother was never one to coddle him, instead simply handing him medicine and a book to read if he was sick. His father was much the same, pushing him further and further to simply power through it.

The act of simply accepting someone else’s care felt more taboo than the rules he’d already broken, but with his eyelids weighing lead and his limbs heavy as molasses, the fear of punishment had no room to occupy his head.

He felt your hand grazing against his forehead and a soft whisper against his ear. He heard you settle down beside him in a chair, fingers lacing with his own in a steady, warm, comforting motion.

He fluttered his eyes open to see you on your phone, texting someone with one hand, the other holding his. He flushed a little, less from embarrassment and more from a warmed heart.

“Thank you.” He said softly, eyes drifting back shut.

“Of course. Sleep well, Riddle.” Came the soft reply. He felt your hand slip from his, but then soon after felt the covers of the infirmary bed being tucked in close around his neck, cradling him in the heavy weight and the soothing smell of antiseptic. He soon found rest, dozing soundly in the quiet.

Ruggie

Ruggie is a busy man. He has chores on chores on chores, and commitments even further than just that. Spelldrive practice, laundry duty, cooking, cleaning, running errands for Leona, classes…

The bags under his eyes only grow each time you see him throughout the day, zipping from task to task with the speed of a cheetah.

“Ruggie!” You call, “Hey, it’s almost dinner. I’m cooking up something tonight, wanna come and have some?”

“Eh?” He jumped, eyes wide, “Oh, wait- food? Huh?”

You laughed a little at his frazzled response, gripping his forearm gently, “I’m making some Jambalaya. Sam gave me the recipe, so it’s bound to be good. Do you want some?”

Ruggie opened his mouth to say something, only for his stomach to begin growling at that exact moment. He would have been embarrassed, but simply played it off, “I think my stomach says yes.”

You grinned and gave him a gentle pat on the head, earning a glare and a swat at your hands from him. You laughed, “Meet me there when you’re free, alright?”

You dismissed yourself and went back to the dorm and got to work in the kitchen, all while Grim complained about who-knows-what. Well, the food was ready in about a half hour. You waited for Ruggie, who was rarely late to a free meal. Waiting ten minutes turned into twenty minutes, which turned into thirty minutes. Thirty minutes turned into an hour, then into two, and then Ruggie finally showed up, looking worse for wear.

As you opened the door to invite him in, he mumbled something incoherent before dropping directly into your arms.

With a yelp you caught him, arms firmly around his waist as you hauled him inside and laid him on the ramshackle sofa.

He woke up about a minute later, groaning and trying to sit up.

“No!” You yelped, “Lay down. Jesus, what happened to you?”

He laughed weakly, turning to look up at you, “You almost seem worried.”

“I am worried, Ruggie. You showed up way after dinner time and passed out immediately. What happened?” You demanded, smoothing the hair from his face.

His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed under the touch, leaning into it slightly before he realized what he was doing and recoiled. “I just had a long day. I’m fine, it’s not to bad this time.”

“This time?” Your eyebrows shot up as you looked at him, “Does this happen a lot?”

He shrugged, giving an almost guilty smile, “I work a lot and I work hard. It happens a little more than it should, but this one wasn’t too bad. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said, finally sitting up, “I’m lucky you caught me. You’re pretty strong, have you considered the spelldrive club?”

“Ruggie.” You said, a little too softly for his liking, “You shouldn’t work to the point of passing out.”

“It’s work or starve.” He said plainly, stretching. “Speaking of, do you have anything to eat?”

You sighed a little, leaning down to kiss his temple, “I’ll heat it up. It’s been ready for a couple hours, since I’ve never seen you this late to a free meal. I think it turned out pretty good. Stay here, I’ll bring it over.”

He looked ready to argue, but then just shrugged and mumbled a ‘thanks’.

When you returned with two plates, he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t eat?” He asked, blatantly surprised.

“I was waiting for you.” You replied, shrugging, “Bone apple teeth or whatever.”

He let out a laugh, said another quick thanks, then tucked into the meal. He started out politely eating, but by the end was shoveling food in like he was filling a black hole.

You watched him and snuck little bit of andouille to Grim, who happily ate it despite the fact that he burned his mouth from the spice.

“That was amazing. Thanks, Prefect. You really look out for me…I appreciate it a lot.” Ruggie said, eyes nervously looking anywhere but your face before he sighed and finally made eye contact, “You’re a really good person.”

You laughed and shrugged, “I know. Now,” you hummed, wandering off to grab a blanket, “You’re stuck here now.”

“Eh?! Wait-“ Ruggie tried to protest.

“No. You’re staying the night. You passed out on my doorstep, you’re staying and you’re sleeping here tonight. No more chores or duties. You can leave in the morning. I don’t want you making yourself worse.” You say firmly, walking over to toss the blanket directly on his head.

He let out a grunt in surprise, ears making little mountains of the blanket as he pulled it off his head. “You’re just as bad as Leona with all that bossiness. Time is money.”

“Time is time, money is money.” You said, “And if you’re short on food money, come to me. I’m not much better, but I’ll always share.”

Ruggie’s eyes went soft as his ears twitched. He sighed and settled down on the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket. “Fine. If it’ll make you feel better to know I’m here, I guess I can stay the night.” He muttered, trying to hide the pink tint to his face.

“Thank you, Ruggie.”

Azul

“Hmm? Oh, hello Prefect. What brings you here at such a late hour?” Azul asked, eyebrow quirked somewhat as he stared.

You sighed as you entered his office, walking right up to him, “Azul. It’s four am. How long has it been since you last slept?”

He hummed, eyes flicking back to the spreadsheet before him, “Three days? Four? I’m not positive. Regardless, that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you awake right now?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Nightmare.” You responded simply, picking up some papers near him.

He eyed you warily as you read them, poised to snatch it back until he recognized them as just invoices he had filled out an hour or two prior. “And you came to visit me?”

“I saw the VIP room’s light was on, figured you were either asleep at your desk or still awake.”

“Doesn’t explain why you trekked across campus to see that particular sight.” He responded in a lightly teasing tone, “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You looked up from the invoices you were pretending to read, grinning a little, “Who wouldn’t want your company? But, regardless…” you hummed, putting his papers back down on the desk. He was rather quick to line them back up in order and place them in a stack off to the side.

“You’ve been awake too long.” You said simply, “Three days isn’t a healthy amount.”

He waved a hand dismissively and rolled his eyes, “Truly, it isn’t too bad. I get less sleep in the Coral Sea.”

“See, that’s not comforting in the slightest.” You replied, crossing your arms. “Jade and Floyd aren’t twelve feet long on land. And I’m pretty sure bedrooms in the Coral Sea don’t have locks.”

“How would you know? You aren’t merfolk.” He mumbled, attention back to his task, “If you simply came to chastise me, I’d request that you leave. I have a lot more work to do.”

You sighed before slowly, ever so carefully, closing his laptop directly onto his typing hands.

He looked up with an icy glare, lips in a firm line. “Prefect.”

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I’m not a child you can simply put to bed.” He scoffed, retracting one hand to open the laptop again.

You continued pushing it down, eyes fixed on his, “Azul, please. I know you’re not a child, but you need to rest. You’ll pass out.”

“Leave.” He said firmly. “I don’t want to hear your pity. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night.”

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever before you sighed, removing your hand from the laptop. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow came, and it was evident rather quickly that Azul should have listened. His normal grace and poised was replaced with unusual clumsiness and accidents that raised the eyebrows of even the teachers.

Alchemy class had a joint session between your group and Azul’s, and by the fates you were assigned as partners.

An awkwardness hung in the air as you worked. Azul seemed determined to pretend everything was fine while you shot worried glances at him.

It was clear something was seriously wrong beyond just uncoordinated behavior when Azul began to sweat excessively. Like, he doesn’t even sweat that much in PE. He nearly tripped over air and tried to catch himself on the rim of the cauldron. Luckily, the ever talented you caught him by the back of his lab coat just in time, pulling him back to standing.

“A-ah, thank you.” He stuttered, eyes glancing about, “I was…testing gravity.”

You looked at him completely unimpressed, “Azul, did you get any sleep last night?”

He scoffed, “This again? How many times do I….do…do I need to….” His expression went lax and he stood completely still for a moment before he suddenly twisted and dropped to the ground.

The surprise of him actually passing out caught you off guard, but you were quick to react, managing to tug him away from your cauldron and force his lab coat off.

“What happened over here?” Crewel asked, walking up close behind, “Ashengrotto-“

“He’s okay.” You assured, listening to his heartbeat, “He just passed out. Hasn’t slept in days, the heat must have gotten to him. He should to go the infirmary-“

“I’m fine.” Came a sudden voice from below you. Azul looked…terrible, honestly, as he blinked at you, “I’m alright. Sorry for the fright.”

“What? No, you’re not fine!” You yelped, only to be cut off by Crewel.

“Ashengrotto, I think it’s best that you take the rest of the day away from working.” It was…uncharacteristic of Crewel to be so gentle, but Azul was one of his best students and everyone knew it. There was an evident amount of concern in his stern words that made everyone freeze.

“Professor-“

“You evidently need to rest. And you’re already light years ahead of these Pups.” He said, staring at Azul with a look that read ‘I dare you to challenge me’. “Prefect, will you keep an eye on him?”

“Yes, Sir.” You responded, nodding. You looked back to Azul, who looked both shocked and ashamed. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“B-but-“

“Sorry, what was that?” Crewel asked, eyebrow raised.

“Nothing! Thank you, Professor.” Azul said, slowly rising to his feet.

As the two of you shuffled slowly out of the classroom, you could sense Azul’s embarrassment.

“Hey,” you said gently, “I think it’s time for you to rest. You work harder than anyone else in this school.”

“That’s not the….never mind.” He mumbled, “You may return to class, if you wish.”

“What? No.” You gently smacked the back of his head. “You’re my buddy. And isn’t there some sort of simile about coin collecting and polish or something?”

He hummed, mind wandering deep to try and think of one as you walked him back to his dorm. He didn’t even notice you had done so until you asked, “Hey, where’s your dorm room?”

“Huh?” He blinked at his surroundings, “H…uh, it’s…um.” He rubbed his cheek and fixed his glasses, “Down the hall to the left. Third door.”

He felt his legs wobbling and growing heavier with every step as you guided him to his room, arm holding him a little closer than normal. For a moment, his mind blanked and he genuinely thought he was turning back into his Merform, eyes wide as he looked down and shrieked.

“Oh my god, what?!” You panicked.

“M-my- I took my potion this week, didn’t I?!” He yelped, almost tumbling over as he looked at his legs.

It took you a good minute before you realized what he was talking about, and another one before you realized what was going on. “Azul, I promise, you have legs.”

“No, they feel like-“

“You’re about to pass out again. Unlock your room door so we can get you to bed.” You said, holding him by the shoulders, “Your brain is shutting down from exhaustion. You’re running on fumes.”

He didn’t have it in him to keep arguing, instead just doing what you told him to.

When he finally got inside the room, he practically collapsed onto the bed, landing with a big fwomp. He had half a mind to kick off his shoes and labcoat, and take off his glasses, but the feeling of cold sheets made his mind flood with melatonin.

“Azul,” you gently said, “C’mon, just a little longer and then you can sleep.

He whined, then caught himself and tried to cover it with a cough and a, “You’re right, thank you.” As he toed off his shoes.

The glasses were easy to take off and set aside, but managing to get him to squirm out of his labcoat turned out to be more difficult since he couldn’t exactly stand.

When finally somewhat undressed, he settled down on his bed, eyes drooping with every passing second.

It was up to you again to get him under the covers, since he was practically asleep already.

As you were about to stand, one of Azul’s eyes opened and he murmured in a croaky voice, “Prefect? Will you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” You turned to look at him, “What is it?”

“Will…” he looked ready to change his mind, but instead took in a deep breath and continued, “Will you stay?”

You smiled, coming to sit beside him again. “Yeah. I can stay.”

Jade

Jade Leech is someone you would never know was sick until he was dying. Every perfectly practiced mannerism lead him to being able to cover even the strongest of urges to crawl under the covers and hibernate for the winter. Nothing seems to rattle this guy. There’s no startling him, at least not on purpose, or sneaking around him. He’s a complete machine.

Except for the one time he caught the flu.

Like I said before, you’d never know he was sick until it’s a dire emergency, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t prone to a slip up every once in a while.

“Ah, Prefect. How may I assist you today?” Jade asked pleasantly, gloved hands crossed neatly in front of him as he smiled lightly.

“I just came for a drink or two.” You responded with a smile. “How are you today?”

He hummed in contemplation as he got to work on your usual, “I’m doing well, I believe. And you?” He was, in fact, not doing well. He had been running off every thirty minutes to frantically puke, but Floyd was at basketball practice and Azul was in his office, so nobody was around to say something about his little white lie.

“Eh, I’ve been better. Grim got detention again, Ace got collared, Deuce blew up a potion again. So, yknow, the usual.” You grinned, leaning toward him.

Jade nodded, though his normal smile was replaced by a look of extreme concentration as he finished your drink. It took him a second to respond, “That sounds like quite the eventful day.”

You took a moment to look over him, noticing the slightly pale tone to his skin and the look that seemed more clammy than usual. “Are…are you alright?”

He raised an eyebrow, and his practiced smile returned, though it looked uneasy. “Prefect, you’ve already asked that.”

“You…” You hummed, frowning, “Ah…you’re right.” You settled, smiling back. “Anything interesting happen here?”

“Hmm.” Jade pressed his hands flat against the counter, trying not to dig his fingers in, “Ah, well, this morning Floyd…” he stopped, covering his mouth before he could think twice, “E-excuse me a moment, Prefect.” He managed to say before speeding off toward the bathroom.

Despite his clear intention to be alone, You’re The Ramshackle Prefect, which means it’s your obligation to follow him.

Upon entering the bathrooms of Octavinelle, you frowned. You managed to find Jade (well, you found the stall he was kneeling in) wretching.

Unsure if you should stay or not, you didn’t approach, but it didn’t take long for Jade to flush the toilet and emerge from the stall, notably gloveless.

He looked surprised to see you there, eyes going wide for a moment as he wiped away spit from the corner of his mouth.

“Jade?” You asked nervously.

He brushed past you, walking over to the sinks. “Ah, Prefect. Needed to use the lavatory as well?”

“You we’re just throwing up.” You stated plainly. “Jade, I….You’re sick, aren’t you?”

He paused a moment before he went back to lathering soap on his hands, “What lead you to that impression?” He asked cooly, but his scratchy sounding voice wasn’t exactly convincing.

“You look pale, and clammy, and you were just throwing up.” You say with wavering confidence. “If you’re sick, you should probably just take a break.”

Jade grit his teeth, took in a deep breath, then plastered a smile on his face. “I appreciate the concern, Prefect, but I assure you that I’m fine.”

You weren’t convinced, but an irritated Jade is ten times scarier than an irritated Floyd, so you decided not to push it and instead murmured an apology to him.

Jade honestly couldn’t stop himself from feeling a bit bad at shutting you down, but he pushed down that feeling and instead offered you a newly gloved hand. “If you merely came to chase me down, then it would be my honor to escort you back to the bar.”

You took his hand with a nervous smile as he guided you both back to the bar, eyes trained forward. His movements were perfect, as always, though a bit sluggish.

As you sat and chatted with a few nearby people and Jade continued to play bartender with mysterious disappearances every half hour, it overall seemed like maybe you had imagined it. Jade didn’t seem distressed, he wasn’t sniffling or sneezing or anything, so maybe he really was just…

Crash

One second ago, Jade was standing behind the bar, pouring a drink for some rando nearby. The next, the eel was laying on the ground with glass shattered around him. And the second after that, you had jumped over the bar to get over to him.

“Go get Azul.” You ordered the Octavinelle student that had rushed over at the same time. As you slid off your jacket and tucked it neatly behind Jade’s head, you heard footsteps rushing off and a bit of panic from the patrons nearby.

You checked Jade’s pulse, loosened his bow tie, and gently tried to wake him up.

“What’s going…on.” Azul approached you, voice in a whisper, “What happened?”

“Not sure. I saw him throwing up earlier, but he said he was fine. He’s sick.” You said simply, mind wracking for other information.

“Oh, Jade…” Azul muttered. “Okay, I’ll carry him to the VIP room. You make sure he’s okay, I’ll take over the shift at the bar. Come find me when he wakes up.” He said, pulling out his pen.

He lifted Jade into the air with a simple levitation spell as you three disappeared from the main area to Azul’s office. You think you saw someone step behind the bar to clean up the glass, but that wasn’t the most important thing.

The most important thing is that Jade Leech is currently unconscious and ill.

Azul set him down on the couch. Jade’s long legs dangled off on side slightly, and he looked a little scrunched, but anything is better than the floor of a bar.

“He appears fine.” The dorm leader confirmed after he looked over Jade, “He has a fever, though he’s sweating so it isn’t too bad. It seems he’s mostly just tired.” He shuffled around some papers on his desk before slipping them into the vault and locking it. “I’m trusting you alone in here. Don’t make me regret it. Keep me updated on his condition, okay?”

You nod, eyes wide as Azul lets out a semi-pleased hum and leaves.

After three hours of no updates to his condition, Jade finally opens his heterochromatic eyed. He lets out a quiet groan, sitting up from his uncomfortable position on the couch.

“You’re awake.” You breathe out, relieved, “I was starting to get seriously worried.”

Jade blinked, rubbing at his eye and pushing his hair from his face as he croaked out, “What happened?”

“You’re sick.” You say, “You passed out. Speaking of, I need to tell Azul you’re alright.”

“H…” he paused, blinking, “I... I couldn’t have passed out.” He says, “How could I have passed out?”

“I don’t think you can gaslight yourself out of being sick.” You say. “Listen, I don’t care if it fucks up your scary reputation, you’re going to attend to the fact that you’re sick. You could have gotten seriously hurt, Jade. You almost fell into glass shards.”

“Glass shards?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You dropped a glass before you passed out. I was really worried.”

He laughed a little, “You and your tender disposition.” He sat up properly, motioning for you to sit near him. “I suppose, though, I must thank you. Perhaps your tenderness is an asset unaccounted for.” He said. He tried to stifle a yawn, but his lack of energy got the better of him. “I deeply appreciate you, Prefect.”

You patted his head gently, earning a momentarily shocked look from the eel. “I’m glad you’re okay, Jade. Take a break. I’ll tell Azul you’re awake and grab you something to eat, okay?”

He laughed a little, something soft on his face, “Will you be playing my nurse today?”

“You got a problem with that?”

He hummed, smiling in a sweet, genuine way. “Not at all. Thank you.”

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alpydk · 2 months

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The Circling Sky (Part 2)

New fic, a lot darker than the last one. Set post-Netherbrain. Gale x F (OC) - Written primarily as my own therapy, it seems. TW - Reference to a suicide attempt as well as the overall theme of alcoholism and neglectful parenting.

He packed a small bag of clothes and supplies, thankful for his earlier time on the road for these new skills of survival. Though he was anxious for what was to come, a part of him was excited to be moving again, to see what types of people would be awaiting him this time. He left a small letter of explanation for Tara and as the sun rose, he left for the city limits.

Ao3 Link

Lissa had run home through the rain to find her father quickly packing essentials into a trunk. This happened every so often, usually when he owed money to someone and couldn’t pay up, but since reaching Waterdeep he had promised things would be different. “What do you mean we have to leave?” The smell of alcohol permeated his clothes, and she knew exactly what had happened. He’d got drunk, gambled the last of their gold away and was now most likely in debt to someone dangerous. “You’ve not pissed it away, have you?”

He refused to answer, just throwing clothes into a bag. “Lissa, dear. It’s not how it looks, we just have to lay low for a little while, that’s all. Go grab your cloak.” She noted the swelling under his eye, not the first black eye he’d managed to get. At least that’s all it was this time.

She remembered the nights she had come home from working at sleazy bars, finding him unconscious on the floor either from having been beaten up or having just drunk himself into that state. The worst moment was when she was barely ten years old and she had found him lying under a broken rafter in their bedroom, the noose still tied around his neck and his face bruised and swollen from what he had attempted to do. She’d been young but she fully understood what had happened, choosing just to sit with him until he woke. He’d never tried anything like that again but the drinking, the gambling, the fights, they all continued. She’d thought about leaving so many times, even threatened it, but each time he would play the victim and she would feel the guilt wrap itself around her own throat, her own noose ready for the hanging.

“But what about my job, Dad? I can’t just up and leave.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m sure they won’t miss you. There’re always other young girls who can serve drinks.”

She turned from him holding back her anger. He didn’t even know what she had been doing these last two months. How every single day she’d worked at the library to bring money into their home, keeping them fed and with a roof over their heads. “Can you not just use the money I’ve been putting aside? Do we really have to leave another place?”

He paused from packing, and she knew exactly what this meant. “The savings?”

“You used them too, didn’t you?”

“Well now, there were good odds on this horse…”

She wanted to shout at him. She should have known better than to have left the gold at home where he could access it. He’d promised her that this wouldn’t happen again, promised her that the drinking would stop, and he would do better by her. She couldn’t even be angry at him though, it was so much easier to feel nothing, to expect disappointment instead. Her father, the most unreliable person she knew.

Realising she hadn’t brought her cloak home with her; she looked back over to him. “How much time do we have?”

“We’re joining the caravan to Baldur’s Gate around sunrise tomorrow. I expect us up and at the city limits just before then,” he said as he slumped to his side, leaving the bag and gripping his chest.

Hearing the thud, she ran over to him “Shit, Dad. The pain again? You spoke to the clerics, right?”

He rubbed at his shirt breathing deeply until it had passed. “Of course, they said it’s nothing.”

“So that money went on booze too, didn’t it?” She stood back up shaking her head. He couldn’t be trusted to do anything. Why did she keep letting him get away with this? “I left my cloak at the library. I’ll be back in a bit.”

***

Gale paced his study trying to figure out what to do with himself. He had no confirmation that this letter was real and no more information than what was written there. He considered a sending spell, maybe another letter to gather up information but he felt restless knowing he would need to wait for a reply. There was also the matter that if the information was correct, if Tav was truly dead then he would be left alone to grieve in Waterdeep. There was always Tara and his mother and yet they had never brought comfort in the same way his friends had. No, he wanted to be around them again; he would travel to Baldur’s Gate.

***

“Is five gold mate, you can’t just come on ‘ere for free.”

Lissa’s father, Viktor, had been trying to barter for some time with the caravan leader to get them a spot on the cart. After she’d left him, he’d done little more in the ways of packing and had instead started on a bottle of brandy he’d bought with the last gold they had. The swelling under his eye had turned a blue-black colour and he nursed his head clearly suffering the consequences of his actions.

“Look, ‘ow ‘bout you let us ‘ave a little minute with your pretty friend there. Then we can call it even.”

Her back tensed up at the idea of it and her father’s silence brought her little comfort. Was he seriously considering this? In the end, she turned removing a small silver ring from her finger. “Here this is easily worth five gold.”

“But wasn’t that your mother’s?” her father said, his voice sounding gravelly.

It had been, but her mother was long gone. A drow that had managed one drunken night with her father and then ditched her the moment she realised she wasn’t a full-blood. Just another tragic half-breed treated as an outsider by both races. All she had was her father; what was some trinket compared to family? Lissa handed over the necklace and as the caravan leader nodded, she took her father’s arm helping him up onto the cart.

“Lissa?”

A voice from behind her calling her name, one she recognised. As she turned, she saw Gale approach, his arm waving to her and a smile on his face. What was he doing here? Viktor leant out from behind her. “He looks like he’d have a bit of cash on him.”

She stepped down from the cart and approached Gale, trying to distance herself from her father lest Gale realise she was together with him. “Mr. Dekarios, a surprise to see you.”

“Yes, yes, a welcome surprise to see you too. I’m to take a rather unexpected journey. Might I assume that you are to do the same?” He signalled to the wagon.

“Yeah, something like that. We’re going to visit family.” This had been the lie ever since she was a child, a dying grandmother, a pregnant aunt, some distant relative in need of aid, anything but the truth. She’d lost count of how many times she had covered for her father’s debts.

“Ah, exciting. Well, it will be good to have some fine company on this expedition.” He softly smiled at her, and she remembered how close she had come to kissing him the previous evening, the warmth inside her still burning for him. If she hadn’t been aware of her father’s eyes on them both she might have just given in there and then to him.

“Oi, Lis’, we need to get a move on. He wouldn’t be interested in you anyways, looks like he goes for the smart ones,” he laughed.

She closed her eyes at her father’s words that rang out over the group of travellers. She opened them again to see Gale looking at her with sympathy. His voice was quiet and caring. “Family, I take it?”

She gave a quick nod and turned to the cart. This was going to be a very long trip to Baldur’s Gate.

***

For some hours they sat as the cart rocked back and forth along the bumpy road. Viktor had thankfully fallen asleep, a flask in hand. He’d told her it just held water, but the smell had given it away quite quickly. So long as he was asleep that was fine. It meant she could collect her thoughts and prepare for setting up again in a new city.

Gale sat across from her observing the way she tapped her fingers repetitively. Thumb to pointer, tapped twice, repeated on each finger and back again. Clearly, some sort of mindless soothing habit she had. These little things he had never had the chance to see during his visits to the library. Though he had watched her often then, it was different when she wasn’t moving around constantly. Eventually, he spoke up hoping she would engage in conversation with him. “Lissa, I delivered your cloak to the library. I can see you never found the opportunity to collect it.”

“We left in quite a hurry. Family emergency you see.” She nervously tapped her fingers together a few more times.

He leant forward, placing a hand on her knee, his voice calm and soft. “Ah, do you want to talk about it? I’m quite the good listener.”

“No, no it’s fine.” More information meant more lies, which meant more to keep track of. Best to just keep it short and simple. Besides once they reached the city, they would be parting ways for good. No reason to build any attachments.

“Well, when we travel back, maybe you can collect it. Or possibly I could purchase you a new one. It was my fault after all that you left it behind.”

She remembered the events vividly, how she had left the tower, how the rain had battered down on her bare shoulders as she ran home. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her leg, her mind becoming easily distracted; change the subject repeating internally. “Why is it you are travelling Mr. Dekarios?”

“Please, my dear. Call me Gale. We are no longer in the library.”

“That may be so but if we are to return, I don’t want to create any bad habits I can not break.” She didn’t want to build up any close relations, especially not with someone who she was already fond of.

Gale pulled himself back, removing his hand from her. He seemed disappointed and she hated herself for dismissing him so quickly. Her father snored next to her, and she bit back the resentment she held towards him. If only that beam had held, maybe things would have been different for her. No, she shouldn’t think that, this was her father after all.

“I understand. Well, I suppose my reason for travelling is much like your own. A family emergency of sorts.” Gale didn’t want to say death until he was sure of the exact circumstances, and he didn’t want to share full details if she was to keep up the pretence of a professional relationship.

She nodded. She was curious but did not want to dig further into it, knowing it would mean sharing more of her own life as an unwritten payment for information. She grabbed at the bag between her legs puling out a small book to read.

“Tanil?”

Lissa lifted her head at the unexpected question.

Gale gestured to the book in her hands. “The book you hold there. Felaar Tanil, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Um, yes, it is. How did you know?”

He gave a short chuckle. “My dear, I’ve been known to try my hand at poetry. Tanil is one of the ones I would often recommend over a bottle of Blingdenstone Blush.”

She smiled at him, enjoying this moment of connection but simultaneously cursing the fact that they shared something in common. Her slowly improving mood was shattered instantly at the voice of her father, his opinions needing to be vocalised for all to hear.

“Poetry is for elves, princesses, and men who-” His voice was cut off by a sudden lurch of the cart, hitting a bump in the road. Lissa was thankful as it gave her a quick moment to mouth an apology to Gale for her father’s behaviour. Only three tenday to go…

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #galemance #gale bg3

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this-is-moony-lovegood · 1 year

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Cool

Christopher doesn’t know how the conversation got here. One moment they’re all having dinner at Buck’s while talking about his dad and Buck’s jobs as firefighters, the next Natalia is bringing up how Buck getting struck by lightning on a call – Buck dying – is ‘cool’. Cool . She smiles as she says it, a grin stretching across her face. It’s the same look of wonder that Chris gets when Buck is telling him about his latest deep dive on Wikipedia. But right now, Chris’s face is far from that. And so is his dad’s.

There’s a clatter next to him as Eddie drops his fork onto his nearly empty plate. He’s gone completely rigid, mouth slightly agape as he stares directly at the death doula – end-of-life doula, Buck had corrected. “Did you just... did you just call Buck’s death... cool ?” His dad says voice barely above a whisper. Chris feels like all the air is being sucked out of the room as if they're in a vacuum - Buck taught him that. Everything is silent, including Buck. Which Chris knows is far from normal.

It feels like forever until Natalia speaks, “It’s just… the experience. It’s like no other. How many people get to say they’ve died and live to tell the tale? It’s fascinating-”

Eddie raises his hand, effectively cutting off her explanation. “Excuse me, I… I just need a minute.” He rises to get out of his chair, and Chris immediately grabs his dad’s hand, squeezing it quickly. “I’m fine, buddy. I’ll be back.” He says, but Chris can see right through him.

He knows how hard Buck’s death hit his dad. He saw the tears that he tried to hide when they were at Buck’s bedside. Felt the quiet sobs radiate through his chest as Chris clung to him in bed those nights Buck was in a coma. His mouth might be curled in a smile, but his eyes were already glossing over. Unshed tears willing themselves to break free. He wishes Eddie hadn’t let go of his hand so soon. He would’ve squeezed it again just to let him know he can be there for him, just like he is for Chris.

Eddie pushes his chair in and makes a beeline for Buck’s balcony, shutting the door behind him. From his seat at the table, he can see his dad leaning against the railing against his elbows, head ducked. He recognizes the heavy rise and fall of his chest. It’s a technique that Frank had taught him, one where he’s focusing on his breathing - in an attempt to stop a panic attack. He’s seen Eddie do this a few times before, less often now than in the heat of his regular therapy days.

Most recently he saw it the night Buck was struck. Eddie had started to lose it just trying to tell Chris what happened and had to pause to catch his breath. Chris had been terrified. The only words that Eddie had gotten out were, “ It’s Buck… he’s…he’s in the hospital… I don’t know… ” He’d sunk to the floor of Chris’s bedroom, back against the bed, head between his knees. Chris’s heart had dropped down into his stomach that night, as he slid to the floor in front of his dad. He gripped his hands tightly, trying to soothe him as his brain begged for answers. “ It’s going to be okay, Dad. ” He’d reassured him, even though he had no idea if it was true.

He’d said the same thing to Buck a few years back when he’d come to him about his dad getting shot. At least Buck had made it through the speech before the breakdown. The fear he had for his dad after the shooting had been quickly resolved with one text from Bobby. For Buck though… there had been no answers. All Chris could do at that moment was hold his dad. It wasn’t his turn to break. That would come later. His dad needed that moment to collect himself. Just like he needed this one.

Chris turns to look at Buck, noticing that he too, is watching Eddie out on the balcony, his face bathed with worry. “You should go talk to him,” Chris suggests, drawing Buck’s attention. “I know he said he needed a minute, but he really shouldn’t be alone.” As if his dad could ever truly be alone with Buck by his side.

With a shaky breath, Buck replies, “You’re right, bud.” He pushes his chair back, standing up and giving Natalia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze - as if she is the one that needs comforting right now. Chris can feel the annoyance flowing through his bones. “Are you okay to be here with Natalia for a few minutes?” Buck asks him softly. If he’s being honest, he’d rather be anywhere else than with her - someone who thinks Buck’s death is cool. But he also knows if he tells Buck this that he’ll stay. No, he can’t stay. His dad needs Buck right now more than he does. He can stick it out for a few minutes with her. Anything for his dad.

He nods. “It’s fine, Buck. I’m sure Natalia and I can find something to talk about while you’re gone.” Chris says innocently enough, although when his eyes flash to Natalia, he can see her swallow nervously.