#It's still a one shot if I don't split it up into chapters *finger guns* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empresskylo · 1 year

Text

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you.

“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark.

“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”

you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.

it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in.

he was laughing?

“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’.

gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face.

“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man.

“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red.

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job.

“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”

“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him.

“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”

your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle.

you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.

finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes.

you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself.

“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.

“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact.

“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”

why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin.

“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”

“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”

some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.

“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.

you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room.

you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased.

he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”

“ our ?” you questioned.

“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”

“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically.

“i woulda asked for you regardless.”

“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”

“ya can’t.”

you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets.

“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern.

“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone…

“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”

that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?

soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”

“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”

“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”

“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily.

“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come.

it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open.

the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.

“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”

you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.

“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly.

“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you.

“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”

“lonely?”

“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”

ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought.

you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”

you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself.

you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.

you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him.

he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen.

you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap.

you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you.

you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist.

“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.

in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“

he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”

you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.

“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome.

ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.

but he was silent.

“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.

oh my god, were you going to cry?!

you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.

you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin.

his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional.

“ghost give ya a hard time?”

“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”

soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.”

you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.

“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.

“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.

you slouched against him.

“do you think i’m cut out for this?

he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”

you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”

“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”

you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.

your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”

you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.

“okay,” you agreed.

“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.

you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.

chapter 3 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

1K notes · View notes

tbnrpotato · 6 months

Text

Our Own Choices

Chapter 12

Anyways, the droids arrive soon enough, and Crosshair is camping with Echo and General Skywalker on a cliff, using the high ground, something which I never thought General Skywalker would use. (if you know you know)

I blend in with the shadows of the rocks, waiting for the droids to arrive. My sword is in my left hand, because my right hand is basically useless, and my other pistol is in the holster on my belt, I'm ready to drop my sword and use my pistol anytime I need to. Just gotta wait for the droids to come and for Wrecker to take them out.

I can feel the tension in the air. No one likes the calm before a battle. Especially not me. I prefer to watch the carnage as I slice up clankers.

I hear the droids flying in, and I don't move. I hear the rock rolling down the hill, crushing a few droids as it passes me, and the locals move in.

They're definitely cannon fodder.

I watch some of them get shot in the head, and some of the others being the MVPs by taking out a bunch of droids. So I start to get some kills, slicing some of the droids and Crosshair's stealing some of my kills. I'm just about to slice up a clanker when it gets shot in the head, and I look up for a moment, still holding my sword, and hold up a middle finger at him, and I receive a warning shot that whizzes past my head and shoots a droid that's behind me.

I stay close to Hunter, Tech and Wrecker and they're getting more kills than me, and Hunter's taking out droids with style. Tech rolls a stun grenade at the droids and it stuns them, and the Poletec leader runs up to us. I sling my sword back onto my back.

I see a droid standing up and is aiming for the Poletec leader, and I quickly draw my knife and throw it at the droid's head, just as it gets headshotted by Crosshair. I see him pointing his middle finger at me and I do the same in response.

I look up at where Echo and Crosshair are at, and Echo's shooting some flying droids. I draw my pistol and start shooting at some of them, managing to hit one and Echo hitting another.

I see a walker droid landing near us, and I immediately run to take cover, splitting from the others and blending into the shadows, and I consider running up to where Echo and Crosshair are, but that would draw attention to them and also leave me exposed. Actually, maybe I should do that. Could kill Crosshair in the process. Something I would very much like to do.

The walker droid shoots a beam of explosive light at Rex, Hunter and the others and at the other Poletecs, and they all run to try and take cover, out of my line of sight. I can hear other spider droids coming, and a bunch more of those flying ones.

I run in the shadows silently, taking out a few droids here and there as I make my way to where the others are. I see Rex, Hunter and Wrecker shooting at a walker droid, so I follow them and start covering them, taking out some of the droids that are shooting at them and dodging the walker's legs that are currently trying to crush us.

I hide behind a rock and watch as General Skywalker slices up the walker.

"That seemed to work, but how do we get up there?" Rex asks, and in response, Wrecker grabs him and throws him up to the walker's guns.

"NO NO NO NOT AGAIN-"

I'm laughing as I watch Rex get yeeted up to the gun of the walker and just hanging there.

As Wrecker goes over to Hunter and gets ready to throw him, I step forward.

"Ladies first," I say, before Wrecker yeets me up to the top of the walker. I land on my shattered hand, which sends a wave of pain through my head and my right arm, and I hold back a scream. As I roll off the round top of the walker I stab my knife into its head and land in front of the eye of the walker, right above the gun.

Ow. My fucking pelvis. Ow.

Hunter gets thrown up as well, and the walker's head spins, and I'm clinging on for dear life with one hand. I stab my knife into the walker's eye, Hunter does the same on his side, and Rex shoots the one on his.

I see General Skywalker force-pushing the walker to crash into ours, and we go crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust.

REALLY GENERAL? YOU SERIOUSLY HAD TO FLEX LIKE THAT AND LITERALLY ALMOST CRUSH ME?

Everything's blurry for a moment and my head hurts as I regain my sense of surroundings. The droids are retreating. Wrecker helps me up, followed by Hunter and Rex. As we all stand up, I hear the Poletecs cheering. Hunter, Wrecker and Rex take off their helmets and I try to do the same with one hand, doing so with some difficulty.

"It's hard to compete with a Jedi," Hunter says.

Soon, we head back to the ship, followed by the Poletecs, who I assume want to send us off. As we walk, Echo notices my hand swelling, a side effect of basically shattering it.

"You okay, ad'ika?" he asks.

"Just shattered my hand a bit, some surgeries will get it fixed up before the next mission," I reply.

The Poletec leader walks up to us as we stand in front of the ship.

"Thank you for helping us in our fight," General Skywalker says, and Tech translates it. The Poletec leader says some stuff in response.

"He said the Jedi will always have an ally here on Skako Minor," Tech says as the Poletecs walk away.

We start walking up the steps and enter the ship.

"You stole my kill," Crosshair says as he elbows me in the back, causing me to trip slightly and almost fall down the stairs.

I chuckle. "Too slow."

Then Crosshair goes over to Hunter and says some stuff as Rex and Echo walk into the ship. Rex sits next to me.

"Hey ad'ika, how's your hand?" he asks, and I ignore him.

"Aris..." he puts a hand on my shoulder, and I stand up and walk away from him.

Not like you give a shit anyways.

I head over to where the batch are chilling and spin my knife with my good hand. Wrecker looks impressed, and Hunter takes out his own knife and does the same. I glance at Rex for a quick moment. He's looking down, and that's when I know something's wrong. I look away.

Doesn't matter. Wrecker's impressed, and Hunter's trying to one-up me. That's the only thing that matters.

4 notes · View notes

tartarusknight · 10 months

Text

I don't know what you're hunting. It's not me, it's something else 9/10

Also on ao3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9: when the ticking of clocks is more like a drum

The fight was a blur. Eddie dropped down on top of the van with a terrible screech, face splitting apart with a sickening sound. However, before Nancy could point her gun at him, Steve broke through the treeline. He raced towards them and Mike let out a scream as Steve went straight towards him. Nancy shifted and shot at Steve. It missed him just slightly but it was enough to get his head snapping towards her.

And chaos was set free. Nancy moved out of the way of Steve's grip but that just had Steve turning to Lucas who was near her. The boys didn't seem to care who they hurt, just trying to hurt someone. She had been hoping to get one of them to focus on her but it seemed impossible. The group of them all just trying not to let them get a hit in.

Dustin cried out and Nancy glanced over to see Eddie's talons covered in the younger boy's blood. Joyce ran at Eddie, her taser in her hand. But Steve met her, slamming her hard into the van. As she went limp Nancy made her decision. They had to take one of them out of the equation until they got the other under control.

Nancy ran at Steve and with her pocket knife, stabbed him in the thigh. Steve roar and Nancy barely got out of range of his claws fast enough. She stared at him as the bottom of Steve's face opened up. As he roared Nancy could see the anger in Steve's eyes. He ran towards her and she turned and ran. Steve let out a guttural sound that had her heart beating harder.

She could barely keep an eye to make sure he followed her into the woods and make sure she wasn't tripping on anything. The injury to his leg had him a little slower but he still caught up to her too quickly. Time was ticking as she dodged his grip, rolling to the side and back onto her feet. They had to finish this before Henry died or else they might lose them.

In the dark of the woods, Nancy faced him. Her gun was the only thing in between them. “I'll shoot,” she threatened even as her hands grew sweaty.

Steve's mouth closed slightly, his mouth looking more human than before. “Oh, I know. Nancy Wheeler , the heartless bitch .” He said and it felt too familiar of a tone. He grinned as she flinched. “You tore my heart in two, I just want to return the favor.” He said and it was soft like he was trying to compromise.

She took a small step back as his head tilted. It felt like he was trying to figure her out. Trying to figure out where to attack. She swallowed and steadied herself. “We want to help you,” her voice came out quiet and Steve crotched slightly.

She followed the movement with the barrel and he didn't seem worried. “You're help is useless. It was useless. I still died,” he said and she flinched at the words. “Oh, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, I thought you were smart.” He sighed and moved a little to the left as if testing out her reflexes.

She watched as Steve's eyes bled black tears and she watched as his mouth opened up. He ran at her and she knew she had to fire. But she couldn't move. Her brain was on Steve's soft touches and kind smiles. How much she had loved him and how she still does in a way. Her finger didn't move. She couldn't move. His mutated hands reached for her, to hurt her.

But before he could, someone slammed into Steve, and they tumbled to the side. She watched in shock as Lucas shoved a needle into Steve's neck. He rolled back to his feet, further from Steve, breathing heavily. Lucas's hand reached to his side, and she wasn't sure if Steve got him or if it was something else.

Steve's movements were sluggish as he tried to stand but after a moment he was back on the ground. He let out a low noise that was almost like a whine. It stole her breath away. It made her nauseous. Nancy felt tears running down her face and Lucas looked back at her. “I thought we were supposed to shoot?” He asked, his own breath ragged.

The kid moved towards her, eyes wide. “Nancy?” He asked and she tried to swallow back her emotions. To focus on the issue. Only the shriek of Eddie in the distance had her unfreezing.

She swung her gun on the strap and out of the way. “Sorry,” she whispered. Lucas nodded and they both moved to grab an arm of Steve and drug him along.

Steve's skin was cool to the touch. As if all his heat had been leaked out of him. It made him feel at death's door and made it hard for Nancy to believe he'd be okay. It almost made her miss the chaos as they broke through the underbrush. Mike, Dustin, and Will were nowhere to be seen, neither was Eddie if Nancy truly paid attention. But she focused on the blood instead.

There was a trail leading to the front door of the van and Joyce was at the door, talking to someone. Jonathan was rummaging through his supply pack, and it struck Nancy that maybe Dustin and Joyce hadn't been the only people Eddie and Steve hurt. Fear gripped her heart and her mind swirled around the missing people.

Joyce looked over and caught sight of them. Her hands were once again bloody, a line of blood falling from her own hairline as well. “Nancy,” She let out a relieved noise, and Jonathan's head shot up to look at them. “Is he-” Joyce asked and Lucas held up an empty needle. She let out a shaky breath and turned to talk to what Nancy could only assume was Dustin. Her hand disappeared from Nancy's view.

“Jon, could you get the door?” Nancy asked and Jonathan pulled something from his backpack before running over the van. He went up to the front first, handing something to Joyce before jogging back. The door opened and heat hit Nancy right in the face.

Nancy looked around, “Where's everyone?”

Jonathan's shoulders were tense as he looked over towards the woods. “After Eddie got Dustin and slashed his back, Will and Mike drew his attention away.” He says and Nancy's heart skipped a beat. However, before she could truly panic, the walkie on her side crackled to life.

“ Code Red, I- I don't know what's happening there but there's something pretending to be Robin. I- ” Everyone froze at the panic in Erica's tone.

“Erica!” A roaring voice cut off the younger girl and even as distorted as it was, Nancy recognized Robin's voice. She felt her chest squeeze, the air leaving her lungs as she realized what was happening. A bite.

“Code Red,” Erica said again before she went silent.

Her mind circled around Robin as Lucas scrambled for her walkie. But more on the choked-out last word of her. Rabies. They had talked about the bite spreading and that's what had happened. Robin was bitten and now... “Erica come in. Erica,” Lucas ordered but the radio didn't come back on.

“Rob- Robin was bitten,” she whispered and looked over at Jonathan who looked sick to his stomach. “By Steve, who the Upside Down infected.”

Lucas let out a sound a mix of a sob and a yell. “Erica come in. Whatever you do, don't trust her. She- Robin- our Robin died.” His voice came out choked and nothing came back from the radio. “whatever is there is like Eddie and Steve. You need to get somewhere safe. Call someone with the phone. Something.” He tried but it stayed dead silent. The radio didn't turn back on. Erica didn't respond.

I don't want to feel like I'm falling short. I don't want to feel like I'm on my own. I don't wanna fight (I Don't Wanna Fight - Amber Run) Chapter 10

Tags: @ellietheasexylibrarian@nburkhardt@artiststarme@flowers-that-sing@juleswashere3@indiearr@remosdeerica

#tw violence #tw blood #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #past stancy #platonic stancy #stranger things #knightly talks #i don't know what you're hunting. It's not me it's something else

2 notes · View notes

coyotesamachado · 2 years

Text

I posted 1,917 times in 2022

That's 1,917 more posts than 2021!

198 posts created (10%)

1,719 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@notroosterbradshaw

@struggling-with-space

@d4r32bstup1d

@babyrooster

@wildbornsiren

I tagged 1,328 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags

#fic rec - 535 posts

#hangman rec - 215 posts

#jake hangman seresin - 171 posts

#rooster rec - 166 posts

#bradley rooster bradshaw - 130 posts

#stardust reblog challenge - 124 posts

#sarah speaks - 90 posts

#hangman - 89 posts

#rooster - 77 posts

#bob rec - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

My Top Posts in 2022:

if it's worth your time masterlist.

Javy "Coyote" Machado x Female!Reader

It has been a little over two years since the Uranium Plant Mission, when Omaha needs to recuse himself from the specialized squadron created after it's success. You're called back to replace him, packing up your two year old daughter, and heading back to Top Gun. You know you're heading back to work with old friends, ones you haven't seen in years. What you don't expect is there's someone else waiting there for you, too.

Considering this will be multiple parts, I thought I'd throw up a masterlist for it. I'm really excited to be writing this. It's based off a line from the song "Chelsea" by The Summer Set, and Bozer and Riley's interactions in the first season of the 2016 Macgyver. Chapter titles are from the original Macgyver, for no reason other than I love Richard Dean Anderson and wanted to tie it all together nicely.

Preview.

Two times the trouble - Prologue. High control. The road not taken. Every time she smiles. For love or money. The black corsage. Ten percent solution. Split decisions. On a wing and a prayer. The gauntlet. Unfinished business. Three for the road - Epilogue.

I'm going to have a separate taglist for this, so let me know if you'd like to be added.

207 notes - Posted August 23, 2022

I’m feeling like a winner

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Female!Reader

This is a three shot based on the song Blow by Ed Sheeran, Chris Stapleton, and Bruno Mars. Each shot is based on a different verse of the song and will have a different lead. This came about thanks to @notroosterbradshaw reminding me how freaking good this song is and I have listened to it far too often in the last 24 hours.

WC: 722

Warnings: Allusion to sex, drinking. No use of Y/N, no physical description other than a dress. Under cut because Reader discretion is still advised.

Hangman. Rooster.

He watches you carefully from his perch by the bar, the two of you are very much polar opposites when it comes to being out and about in a crowd. Where Bob is happy to sit on the side of the action, observing what’s going on, you much prefer being the center of attention, running around and talking to anyone and everyone. To anyone who doesn’t know the two of you, it would be strange that it’s your engagement party and he’s not by your side, but to the people who do, they recognize that it’s a part of the reason the two of you work so well.

You talk to everyone with a bright smile on your face, the shiny ring on your finger a happy distraction for all your guests. Bob watches as you hug his parents, a thank you for throwing this party for them. You hug your own parents, grateful that they had been able to fly out and be there. You even hug Hangman, a surprised expression on his face when you fling yourself at him in your champagne haze, but you thank him for coming with a bright smile before turning around to find someone else to hug. This is one of the reason’s Bob loves you so much, why he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else. Even when he’s supposed to be the person receiving the attention, you’re more than happy to take all of it, give him a chance to breathe.

By the time the night is ending, you’re happily wrapped up in his arms, leaning up against him, smiling at the group of people surrounding them. Bob is whispering sweet nothings in your ear, at least, that’s what you happily let people think. Instead, he’s whispering filthy little things, causing a blush to bloom across your chest and up your neck. You’re able to pass it off as warmth from the champagne you’ve been drinking all evening when Phoenix asks if you’re feeling okay. Honestly, you’ve never felt better. He presses a kiss to your naked shoulder, the tulle of your strapless dress scratching at his hands where he has the fabric balled in them. You turn your head towards him, smiling sweetly.

“Think we can leave now?” you ask, desperate for something more than just his words.

He lets go of you, finishing off his drink and pushes you forward gently so he can stand behind you. The movement interrupts the conversation happening around you.

“Well, everyone, I think it’s about time I got my wonderful fiancé home, feel free to stay and keep drinking,” he says, wrapping an arm around you as everyone shares a look.

The two of you make one last round, saying goodbye to everyone before finally making it out of the venue.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” you muse as the two of you take the short walk back to your hotel. “And Jesus, Bobby, did you have to start talking like that in front of everyone?” Your tone is teasing, but he can hear the frustration in your voice as well.

“I don’t know, baby. Your mom asked me when we were gonna start giving her grand-babies, and seeing you in that dress, it just got me thinking babies aren’t all that far away...” He trails off, looking down at his phone to make sure they’re still going the right way.

“What are you saying Bobby?”

“I’m saying I want to make a baby with you.”

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and he only notices when he feels your hand pull from his. He turns back around to see you taking off your heels, and looks up at you confused.

"Well, what are you waiting for Mr? We might as well start practicing,” you say and he’s holding out his hand to take your heels, a dumbfounded expression because he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you. Instead, you take his hand in your own, and start moving on quicker feet than before.

Your laughter rings out in the streets, and the person at the front desk of your hotel smiles knowingly when the two of you run past her in a daze. The elevator doesn’t even begin to close before the two of you are on one another.

---

Tag list

@luckyladycreator2

226 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

Wouldn’t you love to love her? 1/3

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Original Female Character

Then Hangman is telling him to follow her, and it takes a moment for him to blink out of his reverie. He scrambles out his seat and Phoenix barks out a laugh. No one knows who else is going on the mission, but they all know that Mac will be one of those pilots. A lot of them would be lying if they said that they hadn’t known that from the minute she walked into the Hard Deck that first night. While all of them were cocky pilots, outwardly so, Mac was just confident. The rest of them were quick to try and discredit each other's abilities, trying to make themselves seem bigger and badder, but she just simply let her flying do the talking. However, with her being a guarantee to fly, it means there’s a guarantee that she might not come back, so maybe that affords her a few little luxuries.

Long time reader, first time publishing something for other people to read. This was heavily inspired, loosely based on "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. Apparently there's just something about Fleetwood Mac and shirtless men with a 80's editing wash that just gets to me. I say semi-reader insert because the main character is never identified by anything other than her callsign.

Callsign is "Mac". I know I'm so creative.

It has been about two weeks since I saw the movie so if anything is out of whack in terms of sequencing, I apologize. I also want to apologize if there's any mistakes in Americanisms. I am Australian, and though I have been writing for very long time as American characters, sometimes the Australian still peeks through.

This is cross posted from my AO3, link in the source.

WC: 5560.

Warnings: eventual smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, drinking, safety first, gratuitous use of commas. Under the cut because it is 18+ Reader discretion is advised.

Part two. Part Three.

Who will be her lover?

They watch her take off, can hear the smile on her face when she speaks over the comms.

They were brought back to Top Gun because they were the best of the best, as Phoenix reminded them the night before, but when Mac takes to the air with a lightness and grace, even Hangman has to admit that she’s the best among them. She has this air of coolness that when she’s in the air, nothing phases her. She deals with the g-force amazingly and her breath control is insane. Hangman would make a comment about it if he wasn’t so impressed. She breathes out slowly as she pulls the F-18 into a straight climb, narrowly missing being “shot down” by Maverick. She barely makes a sound over the comms as she shoots through the sky, where they could hear everyone else’s heavy breaths, snide comments, and quick rebuffs. She flips her plane easily, dropping down behind Maverick in their dogfight exercise, her sight set on him as she aims, but he drops out quickly before the kill tone can sound.

They fly around for what feels like hours before Maverick’s breathing heavy and Mac’s hands are shaking. He tells her to land her plane, calling it a draw, and the rest of the class are looking at one another wondering what that means for her push-ups. She has sweat dripping down the back of her neck, the tank underneath her flight suit heavily drenched. Her breathing finally seems heavy, her chest heaving despite the broad grin on her face. She grips Maverick’s hand in a firm shake, and he’s shaking his head at her with a laugh. She passes him her helmet and walks back into the hanger to the slow clap from the rest of the team with the exception of Rooster who is still completing his push-ups.

She waits there while everyone else is showering and when he doesn’t come back once the hanger is cleared, she goes in search of him. Hondo isn’t out there anymore, but Rooster is still doing his push-ups.

“They’re all gone Rooster, you can stop,” she says as she approaches, but he only gives her a grunt in reply and continues.

She goes to walk away when she hears the choked-out sob. She doesn’t turn to stare, instead she sits down on the tarmac looking out over the runways. She’s not too far away but she’s close enough that he knows she’s there if he needs her.

She moves easily through the crowd, spinning and ducking and weaving through the hands and voices trying to capture her attention. Her feet move with the agility of a dancer, and she supposes that she was in another life. In another life, she was dancing on the stages of the world, high on tip toe, graceful and delicate. But it’s not another life, it’s this one so she’s dancing through the crowded bar, four beer bottles dangling from her nimble fingers.

“MAA-AAAC!!!!” rings through her ears in a singsong fashion and she grins as she approaches her new friends. Rooster’s voice is loud over the noise in The Hard Deck and it only makes her chuckle. Passing out the beers to Bob and Phoenix, she holds Rooster’s just out of reach, teasing it back and forth, frustration etched in his forehead until she holds it out a little too long and he’s able to grasp it, snatching it from her. Her laughter rings out loudly, and Bob’s and Phoenix's joins it until after Rooster has swallowed his first mouthful and gets over it.

She sits with them and brings her own bottle to her lips, tipping her head back for a moment, and Rooster can’t help but stare for a moment as her throat bobs when she swallows. Phoenix coughs when she catches him, and Mac opens her eyes glancing at the woman she considers her closest friend here as she continues to down her beer. She misses the way Rooster’s eyes darken, but Phoenix and Bob don’t. A look is shared between them before Rooster blinks and brings his eyes to anywhere but her.

“You look like you need a dance partner, Mac.”

Hangman’s in her ear, and her hips stutter from their swaying movement, the skirt of her dress still moving despite the sudden stop.

“And you think that’s going to be you?” she asks, a smirk appearing on her lips. She twirls away from him, her laughter following as she sways her way over to the bar and parks herself next to Bob.

“How many times do men need to hear the word no?” she asks him with a sigh before picking out a peanut from his bowl.

“Some men, only once,” he states factually, “But men like Hangman, probably another dozen.”

Mac smiles at the smirk on his face, happy to see him enjoying himself. Anything to bring Hangman down a peg and prop Bob up just a little more. His quiet demeanor reminds her of her own. She appreciates having him at Top Gun, a grounding force when it should be so easy to fall into a cocky stride alongside the other pilots.

“Do you need another drink?” she asks him, turning back to the bar to get Penny’s attention. He barely has a chance to answer before she’s ordering two beers on her tab and passing one over to Bob. Then she’s standing up again and dancing away. He can’t help but be impressed that she’s the same on the ground as she is in the air. She’s calm, cool and collected, never staying in one place too long and constantly dancing away from scenarios. He admires that about her.

She finds her way over to Phoenix, her eyes fixating on the other woman from the moment they land on her. She takes a swig of beer as she shimmies over to her. When she reaches her, her beer is thrust into Rooster’s hand without a sideways glance before she extends her other hand to Phoenix.

See the full post

231 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

if it's worth your time - prologue

Javy "Coyote" Machado x Female!Reader

“Are they a thing?” Javy leans in, talking to Jake quietly so no one else can hear him, watching you and Bob interact.

“No, they’re just really close. Have been since Top Gun. You’ve heard us talking about Mercy before,” he says, throwing a questioning glance at his friend.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think she was going to look like that,” he looks you up and down, your attention directed at Bob so you can’t see them.

I wasn't expecting to hit 300 quite that quickly, but here we are. Welcome new followers and hello again to all of you. I am very excited to be sharing this fic with you, it's been my little brain baby for the last two or three weeks. I planned something out for the first time ever and I'm really hoping that you all enjoy it. The plan had been to write the next part before posting, but I am incredibly impatient and excitable. This whole fic takes place two years after the events of Top Gun: Maverick, so I will be taking liberties as I please, but it is based on the thought that the twelve of them stick together as Dagger Squad. Feedback is very welcome, but I hope you end up loving this whole series as much as I do.

callsign: Mercy, it will be explained at some point in this story.

WC: 1.5k

series warnings: eventual smut, swearing, drinking, reader is a mom!, 18+ only. More warnings in each chapter.

chapter warnings: drinking, swearing, protective!Bob and Hangman.

series masterlist | my masterlist | next chapter

taglist: @notroosterbradshaw @writercole @lj13oct @creativitybeware @jakexfmc @stargurl-battleship @peachiicherries

Two Times the Trouble

Walking back into the Hard Deck was a sentimental experience for you. You’d been stationed out at Lemoore for the last three years, and since the Navy had built their specialized team based on the Uranium Plant Mission, you had thought that was pretty much it for you. It was nice, having the stability and being close to your parents, but that hadn’t stopped the envy and disappointment you had felt when you couldn’t be selected to go back to Top Gun.

You had no intention of making an entrance, but that wasn’t to be the case when your name rings loud and clear across the music of the bar.

“Mercy! Is that you?”

Phoenix’s voice makes you laugh, because you’d only told Bob that you were coming back to town, namely because your daughter wanted to call and let him know that she’d see him soon, in her two-year-old, babbling manner.

Eyes flick towards you as you walk through the crowded bar, throwing a quick wave towards Penny. Phoenix moves quicker than you, throwing elbows to get people out of the way so she can wrap her arms around you in a tight hug.

“Missed you, Mercy,” she says softly so no one but you can hear her.

“You too Nix, missed you too,” you reply. Emotions are not something either of you really like to display in front of others, but there were moments, like now, that while you’d prefer your privacy, it’s been too long to not let emotions get the best of you.

You let go after a moment, eyes scanning the other pilots she was with for your best friend.

“He’s in the toilet,” she explains, and you laugh.

“Alright then, come and introduce to everyone I don’t know.”

Phoenix wraps a hand around your wrist, like you’re easily lost in the crowd. You do that to your daughter but never really think of people to doing the same to you. You’re then thrust into the center of the of a group of pilots, some familiar, others not. You wrap your arms around Hangman. The two of you had a small detachment together a few years ago and fell into a quick and easy friendship, based solely on your own determination that he had people he could call friends. You grin at Rooster, Jake’s arm still around you. You pull away from Jake and walk over to Fritz, falling into his hug quickly, a grin on your face at getting to see him again. Then you’re introduced to everyone else. Halo (who Fritz has told you about), Fanboy and Payback (clearly a package deal the way Phoenix has spoken about them), Yale and Harvard, and Coyote. You smile brightly at him but then your attention is brought right back away from him when Bob comes walking in from the back.

“You came?” He calls out excitedly, and you push between Jake and Coyote to get to him.

“Robby!” falls affectionately from your lips as you wrap your arms around him and he swings you around, pulling your feet just off the floor.

The rest of the group look away for a moment, like this is a moment just meant for the two of you.

“Where’s my favorite girl?” He asks when your feet land on the ground again.

“She’s right in front of you, Rob.” You smack his chest lightly and he grins at you. “She’s with Amelia,” you continue throwing a nod in Penny’s direction.

See the full post

280 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Picture Perfect Porcelain

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader/Original Female Character

Her arm curls around the door so it’s lined up along the edge of it, Bob thinks he sees a droplet of water track from her wrist back down to her elbow, but his glasses are back in his locker and he really wishes they weren’t right now. He swallows thickly, because it’s different when he knows she’s naked behind there as opposed to it being salt water after she had been thrown into the ocean by Coyote during dogfight football.

Basically, I love hot showers.

Title is from Ever After by Marianas Trench.

Callsign is Mist.

This is cross posted from my AO3, link in the source.

WC: 2907.

Warnings: 18+, smut, hot showers, girl can’t deep throat, oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, rooster is a menace.

Walking into the shower room, Bob could kick himself. She always waits until everyone else is finished with their showers, because she likes to have hot showers, the kind of ones that turn the room into a sauna, and leave no hot water for anyone else. Apparently, he hadn’t been fast enough though, because Mist is in here and he still hasn’t had a shower.

The door closes behind him and he flinches as the resounding bang echoes around the room. He hears her gasp, and she’s opening the door to her stall and peaking her head out.

“Bob! Shit, sorry, I was told everyone had been through already, I’ll finish up,” she rushes out.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just have a cold one. I don’t mind,” he says quickly, trying to placate the situation because he doesn’t want to take away her shower time. His own are a moment to decompress from the day, and since she tends to take the longest and the hottest whenever she has the chance, he can only imagine that it’s the same for Mist. Her arm curls around the door so it’s lined up along the edge of it, Bob thinks he sees a droplet of water track from her wrist back down to her elbow, but his glasses are back in his locker and he really wishes they weren’t right now. He swallows thickly, because it’s different when he knows she’s naked behind there as opposed to it being salt water after she had been thrown into the ocean by Coyote during dogfight football.

“No seriously, just give me a minute and I'll wash all this soap off and then it’s all yours, plenty of water left.”

She pulls her arm back and goes to lock the door behind her when Bob speaks again, it’s so soft that she can barely hear him.

“What was that?” she calls out, her voice singing out over the noise of the shower.

Bob rubs the back of his neck, wondering whether he should repeat himself or just let those words disappear with the steam.

“Bob?”

This was going to end badly, he could tell.

“What if...”

The door opens again, her head and shoulder appear before him. While he wishes he had the kind of easy assurance that Hangman does to ask for what he wants, he doesn’t. It deflates him a little and he sighs.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be out in the locker room when you’re done,” he says, turning away from her and going to walk out.

“Wait! Were you... Are you... Will you...” she stutters, and she wishes she had the kind confidence that Phoenix has, to say what she wants without stuttering over it.

The steam is still thick around them, but it feels thicker than it had a minute ago.

“Bob, what if you just joined me, instead of waiting or...” she trails off again, and it’s so difficult to just put herself out there.

He turns back to her, and the door is open a little more, her collarbone now in his line of sight and he feels ridiculously overdressed. He stands there staring at her a beat too long and she breaths a long sigh.

“Sorry Bob, I just, I promise I’m nearly done, just forget what I said.”

It’s the door closing again that pulls Bob from his head and he’s dragging his shirt over his head, and unbuttoning his pants as he walks over. The shower turns off before he can knock or speak again. He feels like his lost his shot, but for once, he doesn’t want to walk away from it without trying.

“Turn it back on,” there’s a demand in his voice, and it kind of shocks him because he only really talks like that when he’s in the plane and needs Phoenix to do something in particular. He hears the gasp behind the door, and he smirks to himself. But her shower is back on and he feels the steam where he’s standing. The snick of the lock opening again captures his attention, and his heart is beating an unhealthy rhythm. Her hand is darting out like she’s trying to grab his shirt and pull him in, but when she only meets the smooth skin of his chest, there’s a choked off groan hitting the back of her throat.

She pulls open the door and steps back into the heat of the water, hoping the steam gives her a little bit of modesty. For the fact that Bob isn’t wearing his glasses, he really wishes she was closer right now. He drops his shirt on the little bench seat next to him, and turns to lock the door behind him. He takes in a deep breath, it’s all humid air at this point, and tells himself he can do this. She’s watching him carefully from where she’s near pressed up against the back corner. She feels like she should look away, but he’s bending down to shed himself of his pants and she can’t take her eyes off him. He folds both his pants and underwear neatly and puts them with his shirt, and her eyes are glued to the curve of ass down to the muscle of his thighs. When he turns, she’s suddenly very interested in the tile beneath her feet.

See the full post

573 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

6 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-31 · 9 months

Text

The Consort's Will - Chapter 5 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

"Prove it," she says evenly.

Her words sound muffled, muted even against the blood rushing against my ears.

I try to respond but my speech sounds garbled.

Or maybe that's just the noise it's making in my brain,because I don't think I actually manage to make a sound.

"Inside that duffle bag, there is a picture," Brayden answers.

"It is tucked beneath two sweaters. We believe it's a member of my family. A fellow Secondary."

Tegan tilts her chin up in defiance.

"And who might this family member be?"

"According to the picture, Archer Robbins."

"According to the picture?" she questions and narrows her eyes.

"His name is written on the back. I lost my memory when I turned," Brayden responds in a clipped tone.

"I obviously can't be sure if the name is an accurate reflection of the person."

Brayden is never afraid and in moments like this, it becomes apparent.

Sometimes I envy him for not feeling emotion.

This is one of those times.

Tegan's gaze slides over to the duffle bag.

She jerks the end of her gun to the side and swivels her gaze to Leo.

"Get it."

Leo nods a single time.

He glances at me and the small action earns him a warning glare from Brayden.

With arms still in the air, Leo slowly walks towards the duffle bag.

He kneels to his feet and I notice him wince when his knees hit the ground.

He unzips the bag and Tegan squints to try and gauge the items he's moving aside to find the picture.

When Leo begins to lift his hand from the bag, Tegan turns the gun's barrel from me to him.

She must suspect this as a set-up.

Her shoulders tighten as Leo lifts the small, thin picture from the back but her moment of distrust is all Brayden needs.

Suddenly his arms are around her, forcing her to the ground.

It's a chaos of pale and fast-moving limbs.

The gun is flung to the ground but not before not before a piercing gunshot resonates through the air.

I yelp and jump at the sound.

Leo groans from a few feet away from me and clutches his side.

He got hit.

Brayden pins Tegan to the ground and I rush over to Leo's side.

I smell the coppery blood before I see it and collapse beside him.

"Leo," I whisper.

Somehow I've managed to find my voice again.

Our eyes lock for a split-second and then we both drop our gaze as he moves his hand away from his side.

It's covered in blood.

"No. No, no, no, no, no."

My voice comes out in a panicked staccato.

I reach for the duffle bag and pull out the first piece of clothing I find and push it against Leo's stomach to staunch the bleeding.

He groans and flinches away from the touch.

His cheeks are already starting to pale.

A fresh batch of tears spring to my eyes but this time it's out of fear for Leo.

I sniffle and choke on a silent sob but the sound is enough to snap Leo's attention back up to me.

"Hey, it's alright," he murmurs. "I'll be fine. Just a side shot."

He tries to laugh but winces again.

I shake my head and stare down at the sweater again that's already a third of the way covered in blood.

Leo starts to blink slower.

I reach up and grab a hold of his shoulder.

His blood rolls off my finger and seeps into his coat.

"Keep talking to me, Leo," I command with a trembling voice.

Then an idea sparks.

"Tell me the secret about Kelly."

Leo nods.

He licks his lips and tries to remain sitting but the struggle becomes evident across his features.

I slide my arm around his back to keep him upright.

The blood is covering almost half the sweater now.

"I went to him before I left," he whispers.

"No one saw me. I made sure of it."

He pants in between sentences.

A cool breeze kicks up on the distance and Brayden's angry voice travels with its silent whisper.

I glance up and see he's successfully gained the upper-hand in his fight with Tegan.

Her face has turned a shade of red and she hisses an angry response to whatever Brayden said first.

"I told him I was leaving. Where I was going," Leo continues and I tear my gaze away to focus on him.

"I've been ripping off pieces of cloth. Every 45 miles. Has my scent on it. He knows it. He'll find us."

My heart swells.

I wondered why it was taking Leo so long to catch up with us today.

As fast as Brayden can travel, there's no way a high-speed motorcycle couldn't keep up with us.

But now I know why.

Brayden was so focused on trying to get ahead of him that he didn't notice.

Leo must have known it too and he took the opportunity to continue leaving directions for Kelly.

I swallow hard and prop him up further but I hold him a bit tighter so he knows I am trying to hug him.

"Thank you, Leo" I whisper.

I know Brayden might hear me but right now I don't care.

"I hope your scent stays."

Leo grimaces.

The sweater is almost full of blood now but he finds the strength to give me a feeble smirk before tilting his head to the side.

I'm not sure what he's doing but then the light catches on two, small holes that definitely weren't there months ago.

"Leo..."

"I let Kelly feed from me," he explains through pants.

His words are coming out slower now.

"He knows my blood now. And he has strength."

Hot, wet tears stream down my cheeks.

I'm sure Brayden's listening as we speak and is doubting every one of Leo's words.

But I can't help believing him.

He came all this way to help us.

To help me.

And he made sure to save Kelly first.

"Thank you, Leo," I mumble.

"Thank you so much."

"For you," he mumbles and then his eyelids slowly close.

"Anything for you."

1 note · View note

sebastianstangirl · 1 year

Text

The Other Side

Chapter4: Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Rue Barton

Word Count: 1882

Warning: Violence, depictions of death

Rating: R

Chapter Summary: Bucky abandons orders to hunt down Clint

Series

Tags: @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @sparklebae15-blog

“Fucking fifteen,” I growl under my breath as I dispatch yet another mercenary who tried to use the smoke to blindside me.

This was supposed to be an easy mission – granted it’s still pretty easy, there’s just a lot more killing than I anticipated.

The shrill blare of the fire alarm pierces my eardrums, filling my head with a dizzying buzz that foreshadows an impending headache. I know Sam has already vanished in the chaos, but Clint is still fighting on the other side of the smothering black smoke. I can hear a desperate struggle as he fights off more attackers.

The heat intensifies with every second that passes by and I know that I need to get out now or else face a certain death.

Another mercenary charges me from the side, his weapon raised like a club ready to strike. I stand my ground and wait for him to come within reach, and then in a split second my arm morphs into living vibranium.

My fingers wrap around his throat, choking off any sound he wanted to make before it could escape his lips.

The man desperately lashes out at the metal to no avail. I slam his back against a nearby wall and feel him sag under my power.

I yank Rue’s gun from my waistband and send two shots into his chest, almost simultaneously.

He drops like a stone, but I don't even flinch at the impact. My grip on his throat is iron-clad.

There's no hesitation or remorse as I drop the lifeless body.

I barely have time to duck before a bullet ricochets off my vibranium arm, filling me with an immense rage.

Snarling, I snatch up the dead man and use him as a human shield while I frantically search for the source of the shot.

The glint of the gun barrel gives away my attacker's location, a red flag of death.

The smoke searing my eyes, I press forward - crouching low, hiding as much of my body behind my shield as I can.

Bullets rain around me and one pings off my shoulder, slicing open the top of my ear in its wake.

I can finally make out his shadowy figure, now within range of me.

Without hesitation, I grip the belt of the lifeless body and lift it over my head like a battering ram before hurdling it towards the hidden gunman.

Ignoring the dull throb of my ear, I lunge towards him with a powerful haymaker. My knuckles tighten and stretch the skin as I swing hard at his face.

But to my shock he blocks it with his rifle, deflecting my attack. Seizing the opportunity, he lashes out with his own punch that crashes into my eye.

He pushes me back but I don’t let up. We grapple wildly, pushing and pulling; he’s stronger than I expected, but I’m determined not to give in.

Finally, after an intense couple of seconds, I overpower him and break free.

Before I can reach for my gun he’s on me again, fighting like hell to keep my vibranium arm in check.

My anger boils over and I rear back, ramming my forehead into his nose with bone-jarring force. Blood erupts like a geyser, splattering onto my face as he cries out in agony, releasing his grip on me.

I snatch up my gun and fire off the last round directly into his throat – stifling his screams forever.

After a quick glance around I see that I’m finally alone so I tap into my com to try and reach the others.

“Sam? Clint? Where are you guys?”

“I’m outside,” Sam answered quickly. “Rue got the hostages out. Where are you?”

Relief washes over me. I had tried not to think about her, but now that I know she’s safe I feel like I can finally breathe.

“Do you have eyes on Clint?”

I scan the area as I make my way towards where I last heard Clint. “No.”

“I’m sending in Redwing, you get out of there.”

Sam’s words grind me to a halt.

My pulse is racing as I contemplate the idea of jumping out a nearby window. Redwing could easily take care of any stragglers and help Clint flee the scene. But I remain rooted in place, feeling the weight of Clint’s silence on my shoulders. If it's affecting me so badly, then I know it must be devastating Rue.

I yearn to escape the choking smoke, but there's no way I can leave without her brother.

Staying is really the only option.

“Buck–”

“I’m going after Clint,” I cut him off before he can say anything else.

I can feel Sam’s protests echoing in my ear as I yank the com from my ear and thrust it into my pocket. The thought of Tony and Steve’s impending disdain makes my stomach churn, but I can’t stay focused with Sam's whining. It’s better to face their wrath when Hawkeye and I are on the other side, safe from danger.

My heart is pounding as I step into the acrid smoke, where only moments before the deafening sound of gunfire shattered the silence.

My mind races with a thousand possibilities of what could be on the other side, but I stride forward with determination. Each footstep brings me closer to discovering if Clint has found victory or failure.

My eyes burn as I cough and stumble through the dense fog, my lungs feeling like they are being crushed under a blanket of heavy smoke.

I gasped in relief when the air clears enough for me to see my way through the hazy passageway.

As I slowly continue on my journey, I see Clint's unmistakable arrows strewn across bloodied corpses on the hallway floor. Their bodies are contorted in various positions - some slumped against walls, others curled up in fetal positions, all frozen in time.

There’s no sight of Clint, but there’s a path leading me further down the hallway.

Making my way down the hall, the walls a blur around me; I dodge and hop around the corpses littered throughout. Broken glass crunches beneath my boot, giving my position away to any waiting ambush. When I reach the end of the hall, I turn to survey but end up coming face to face with Redwing.

Great.

At least Sam can’t yell at me through the thing.

I go to swat Redwing out of my face, but a sharp ping rings out as something ricochets off my shoulder. Glaring, I turn to see Clint walking out of the haze, his bow drawn with a new arrow.

“You shot me?” I scoff.

He lowers the bow, though I noticed the hesitation.

“Sorry, didn’t recognize you,” he coughs.

“Let’s get out of here,” I turn and we begin to follow Redwing to the nearest exit. “This smoke is going to kill us.”

“Yeah, that explosion is kinda my fault.”

I cut my eyes at him, “how?”

He rolls his eyes begrudgingly. “Guy dodged an electric arrow and it hit a centrifuge.” He mimics an explosion with his hands, noise and all.

“Where’s your com? We tried to reach you a few times.”

Clint meets my eyes with a grimace. “It got knocked out during the initial explosion.”

“Can’t be helped now. Let’s just get out before the whole damn place blows up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It’s a lot easier to navigate the facility with Redwing in the lead. We just have to focus on keeping up with the red guide light on its back and we’d be out of here in no time.

We burst out the back door, gulping down lungfuls of toxic smoke-filled air. Clint's feet slip from underneath him, but I manage to grab him by the arm before he hits the ground. Even though we’re out of the building, I know we still aren't safe yet.

We slowly trudge up the grassy slope towards the quinjet, my gaze fixed on the chaotic scene before me. The police and fire departments have arrived and are milling around in a frenzy. Sam and Rue are in the center of it all, their voices raised as they give orders to the officers. As soon as she notices us walking up, Rue takes a few steps back from the conversation and her eyes lock with Clint's. His face softens and for a moment, they stand frozen in their gaze. I know this is their first mission together and I can tell it has been hard on both of them. I silently hope that it will get easier over time before turning away to give them a moment of privacy.

I know it had to be difficult for her, wondering if Clint was okay all that time. It’s not something I’m particularly familiar with; even in the forties when Steve and I were at war I always knew there was a strong possibility that one of us might not come home. Nevertheless, no matter how foreign this emotion feels to me, I will never be unable to sympathize

Rue’s fingertips brush against Clint’s cheek as she pulls him into a hug. Smiling to myself, I look away. Only to find Redwing staring at me. Frowning, I try to snatch the thing out of the air, but it’s faster than me and zips back to Sam.

“You,” Rue’s voice cuts through me.

She marches towards me with determination, her bright eyes shimmering with emotions and her jaw clenched tight. I tense, not knowing what to expect from this confrontation. A hug or a hit? As she steps in between my feet, her body trembles slightly as she raises her arms in anticipation of a hug. I welcomed the warmth that flooded through me, and wrapped my arms around her body, drawing her close.

“That was absolutely reckless,” she whispers into my neck.

“Sorry, I couldn’t walk out without him.”

She pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes, a warm smile creeping on her lips. “I know, I love that about you. Thank you.”

I give her a crooked smile and wink, “anything for you doll.”

Suddenly, she pulls me down to kiss me – not a care in the world that her brother stood a few feet away.

For the briefest of seconds, our lips are tentative, unsure of what they might find. They find their match in warmth and our mouths open, and tongues meet, and suddenly she is no longer she.

I am me, and she is the sea, and I was flying over that sea, dark and free as deep water rolls.

It flickers with silver in the quarter moon and our lips are where the sea and the land meet and those deep, rolling waves crash and break and send plumes of sea foam up over the cliffs, washing them clean.

My burning, aching hands travel from her hips, up to her ribs, and halt as I pull her into me, as the tide draws higher to the shore. The kiss is intoxicating, our shared breath, bodies close, the deeper scent of her, beneath the perfume and sandalwood and cream.

Our lips break, and the parting is like being cast from the sea to the land.

Weary, half drowned and gasping for air.

#bucky x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #mcu au #avengers au #james buchanan bucky barnes

0 notes

itsuki-minamy · 2 years

Text

GROUND ZERO: FRAGMENTS

CHAPTER 4: THIS SUMMER BEGINS

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Many people remember "that day" in 1999 as a special moment.

For some, a shocking disaster that suddenly hit them. For others, the moment when an extraordinary catastrophe was felt through distant rumors.

The sun shining from above. A cicada screech they can't even talk about. Sweat running down the cheeks. Some will remember such a scene.

But that was a little further.

The temperature had already started to rise every day, but it was still far from summer production.

In a fate similar to high pressure magma that swallows everything and burns it, the daily life of thin skin remained, that is the history of that time.

++++++++++

It was awkward getting on the train after a tough event.

A black suit with holes here and there and fraying. Burning smell. A soot-smeared face floated on a crowded station platform.

Just a few hours ago, "Purgatory" was attacking a gangster headquarters, a few miles away from the area where it was approved to live.

Number 2 splitting the plan, what Soma calls "room hunting". At a minimum, to get a place to live in the land where the infrastructure is alive, he said, "I have a star in the correct yakuza", but in reality, there may be strategic reasons such as expanding the territory of control, threatening the security system and secure a bridgehead.

However, such a "room search" failed due to the outburst of the "Red King" Kagutsu Genji, and ended in vain enough to destroy the unlucky gangsters.

The large car used on the outward route was also wrecked, so clan members procured their return journeys locally. Specifically, it was decided to divide into several vehicles and motorcycles that were stolen from the owners through threats, but it happened that two young people were run over by the number of members.

The baby-faced boy Kyoji and Takuya Choya. They didn't care if they had a license or not, but they didn't know how to drive either.

"No, Jibun and the others are going back by train."

In response to Soma's amused instructions, the boy was in a bad mood and Choya bought the ticket with a nihilistic mood. At that time, the transportation IC card service had not yet started.

"It's better to go home... than stay and die today."

As he waited for the train, Choya said that.

"Why, will we live long? No way."

And, the boy answered that on the train platform.

In the battle that day, some members of "Purgatory" also died.

Most of them were influenced by the power of the "Red King", and their bodies exploded due to a leak of different abilities, but there was only one man who died when he was hit by a yakuza's ammunition.

Yusuke Kadota. He looked to be in his early thirties, but he still looked like he was in his early twenties due to his baby face and hip attitude.

About a month ago he had entered "Purgatory". Immediately before, he killed 13 members of the antisocial organization he belonged to and got out. The case was registered as a normal criminal case, not an extraordinary case. Before the installation and manifestation of dysphoria, the man caused a mass murder with a single gun.

"Uh, I don't think he shot. The yakuza and the police often shot, bang bang."

The boy liked the "newcomer" Kadota. Unlike other members of the clan, he did not treat children lightly due to their age and appearance.

"Hey, how does it feel to shoot and kill a person compared to doing it with extraordinary power?"

Faced with such an unscrupulous question, Kadota did not seem offended and replied politely.

"Here we go… what's up? I haven't had a chance to compare. I've never killed a person with this power."

Kadota extended his right hand and showed it. His index finger was missing and the cross section glowed red like a flare.

"I can't shoot with this finger anymore."

As you could see, Kadota's stigma was that he was "missing his right index finger," probably because one of the guns was traumatic. The power of extraordinary power was the "bullet" emitted from the missing finger, but the extraordinary power of the bullet was rarely used after only a few test shots.

"Then let's shoot the yakuza in that area the next time we go in and out."

"No, that's a bit… what do you think?"

"I don't care. He who hits and dies is bad!"

Kadota smiled a little embarrassed at the boy's laughter, and today he was hit by a bullet and died. He wasn't killed by the power of an extraordinary skill, he died like a normal man by mere ammunition.

"He could have shot, but he didn't. He didn't prevent it, even though he could prevent it. That was suicide... I think he chose to die like a normal person. I'm sure that's what he wanted."

"What is that? I don't understand the meaning."

The boy had a sharp mouth. Every time he was told a complicated story, he was in a bad mood. And...

"I think that old man was a bit tough, maybe he was too nice."

He said it lightly.

"That's right. I'm sure his personality was calm."

"Whatever way you hit the weapons, which way, the guys above will disappear the weak guys."

"Well, that's right. I'm sure that's correct. The train has arrived."

Choya tried to round off the topic by saying that.

“Most of all, that old man was…”

The boy was eating even more.

Miscellaneous words about Kadota continued for many train stations after that. He was feeling a little upset, but he knew it was a shame for a child.

In everyday life, the children sometimes talked about people close to them and sometimes said mean things.

Mothers who couldn't live with them, grandmothers who raised them, local childhood friends, etc. None of them were in the world now.

According to them, they were bulls. They were angry. She was a careless woman. She was a messed up slap. It was heartless shit, and the fight was weak. In this way, the children enumerated the reasons why they had to die. This is how he was trying to convince himself.

Choya's idea was different. The outlook on life was simpler.

There was no meaning to life or death.

― So you don't have to say bad things to someone you like.

He thought would say that, but he stopped himself.

Emotions, souls, life, life that has no meaning, he believed that it was not correct to think like that. In that way, he who lived as a zombie was meaningless and unnatural. That's what he thought.

The boy lived in a slightly better world than himself as a dead person. He just stared through the glass at his sparkling emotional displays.

When five train stations passed after the criticism of Kadota began, the topic broke and she was supposed to be the grandmother of a child.

That grandma, she put a candy ball in her pocket and walked over to her and gave it to a kid in her neighborhood. That's why the kid could lick it and also look at the bad guys. Even though she said that, he couldn't hear it.

The train stopped at the station and a large number of students entered. It was the closest station to a famous private high school. Boys and girls in English-style blazer-style uniforms filled the seats, chatting like a flock of birds.

― It is bad.

Choya wondered about the boy's situation.

Student, rich, nice guy. The boy hated "hanging out together and seeing their own faces".

It was a complete alienation; it would be a source of fire if the stalemate turned out to be extreme.

"Smells like burnt?"

"Funeral... Coming back from the crematorium?"

"No, he's a yakuza."

He heard such whispers that they were exchanged.

"Kyoji... do you want to move to another platform?"

Although he tries to say that calmly so as not to irritate him, the boy's line of sight was already fixed on a point ahead.

"Hey!"

The boy screamed. It was a loud voice that echoed throughout the vehicle.

"Sorry! You're sitting there!"

Several male students sitting in the priority seats at the front of the vehicle looked at each other.

"Give your seat to the elders!"

"Uh..."

Choya finally caught on. An elderly woman, in her 80s, boarded through the vehicle entrance. Her waist was bent and she used a cane. The step was small and she was swaying a bit.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Please, Grandma."

The students who hurriedly stood up bowed their heads to the boy and urged the old woman to sit down. There was no need to shout. It was easy.

Rather, the old lady suddenly made a noise and attracted attention, and she stood still.

It would be a problem if she was told to sit cross-legged in the middle of that situation.

The door closed and the train began to move while the situation was awkward and stuck.

"Hmm... I'll be by your side."

"Uh..."

At least if they were out of sight, the old woman would be able to sit down and the students would be quiet.

That was the world of ordinary people, and they were the obstacles. He was aware of that.

When the children were about to start walking...

"Uhahahaha! What is it?! What is it?!"

From behind, he heard crazy laughter.

Looking back, there was a strange girl there.

The girls in the vehicle were all girls who were wearing uniforms from prestigious private high schools and seemed refined. It wasn't just about appearance, but behavior. They were elegant creatures carefully bred in a greenhouse.

On the other hand, the one in front of them was a completely wild species. Poor pedigree or poor growth, short, old-fashioned body shape. Her skin was dark, her hair was coarse and she laughed with bad makeup like a dark circle. The teething was also terribly bad. Her clothes were the same as the students, but she was also poorly dressed. She loosened her collar, tucked her skirt in, and loosened her stockings on one side. It was almost a costume from a fairy tale.

In a word, she was like a raccoon dog that failed to become a young girl.

"Mika-chan, you can't do it. It's rude if you suddenly laugh."

"And they're a little scary. They might get mad."

From among the animal-like girls who were worried and whispering, the raccoon dog took an open step and stood in front of the boy. She was even smaller than a toddler.

"Fufufu, you're weird. Aren't you the kind of person who secretly picks up a kitten on a rainy day?"

"What... what the hell are you saying?!"

"It's a waste to make a loud voice. I don't know if you're a good guy."

"Ku..."

"She's not your grandmother, right?"

"What did you say?!"

― If he thinks she's just a stupid woman, he'll be looking at her unexpectedly. No, were she listening to the conversation?

"You..."

Choya intervened.

"No matter what this guy and Grandma are, it's not something that others should make fun of."

The Tanuki laughed with a "Hehehe." unafraid, and she put her hand in the pocket of her uniform.

"Sorry, do you want candy?"

Her palm, which was filled with individually wrapped sweets, was presented in front of the boy.

"Hm... I don't need such a thing!"

"Hahaha, don't hesitate."

The Tanuki leaned towards the boy and put a piece of candy in the pocket of his black suit.

"What... what are you doing?!"

When the boy tried to push her away, the Tanuki quickly reached down, sat in the priority seat and touched the empty seat next to her.

"Bah, come on, it's free here! Come on, sit down!"

It was a strange behavior, but when he noticed it, the tense air inside the vehicle was loose.

"Thank you..."

The old lady bowed to the boy and the boy gave up his seat, and with the help of the raccoon dog, she slowly sat down.

"I'll get off next station, Taku."

"It's not the station to get off yet..."

"We can get on another train."

When Koji and Choya spoke in a whisper...

"Haha, it's a TV store!"

The Tanuki pointed at him.

Finally, when the train stopped and the door opened, a loud voice was heard from the back of the two descending.

"Bye, Kyoji, Taku, bye! Take care of yourselves! Stay together! Bye!"

Even after the train left the platform, the reverberation remained for a while.

After that, the two of them walked out onto the street from the station. They had to walk for more than an hour to the base of "Purgatory", but they did not complain, they chose to go home on foot. It was so awkward that they couldn't wait a few minutes for the next train.

"Hmm... who the hell is that woman?"

"I don't care. We won't see her anymore."

"She's like a raccoon dog."

"Oh, I thought that too."

"She asked me if I wanted a candy? Damn."

The boy reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of candy, and handed it to Choya.

"Eh?"

"Look, I'll give you half."

Saying that, he peels off the packaging and throw it in his mouth.

― Oh, you eat it...

"Eh?"

When she noticed Choya's line of sight, the boy looked intimidating and...

"I can't turn it into a poor morsel!"

"That's how it is."

Choya also put the candy in his mouth. He couldn't turn candy into food. He thought so, even if he said that, the boy would not be convinced. On the contrary, he would think it rude to refuse the food served.

"I see, Grandma..."

"Oh?! Grandma doesn't matter!"

The boy was poisoned again. However, since he had the candy in his mouth, he didn't spit it out.

++++++++++

The two met the "Tanuki" a few days later when they went out into the city as messengers for Soma.

In the post-processing of the gang attack case, there were some things that he had to talk about "Tokijikuin". As a return to that, he delivers the documents to the nearest branch.

Order and deviation to "Tokijikuin" which represents law and order. Soma from "Purgatory" was always kept in the gray zone and as a result behaved freely without social or anti-social restraints. It was just a devilish twist.

"Wow, it was easy, right? I'm just a middle manager. My general and my junior boss, and the politicians and citizens, somehow, while they push me here and there, I managed to put him in a circle. I'm on his side. I am working for everyone. You can get a salary from your country."

It was a man holding a poker card in his left hand, lighting a bomb detonator in his right hand, smiling a bottomless smile, and distorting his mouth.

Contact with "Tokijikuin" was often made by the boy and Choya. Among the mischief makers in "Purgatory", he had an appearance that was exceptionally close to the general public and was rarely noticed in the city. He was a rare human resource in "Purgatory", who could act as a courier without causing any trouble.

"I really don't like this kind of use of children."

That day there was no driver, so it was a train movement. As they headed to the nearest station, on the way, Koji told Choya.

"Soma-san says that he believes in us and leaves it to us. We have to live up to expectations."

"No... that person wouldn't wait for others. If we were wrong, we would just use it as a source to move another plan."

"Huh? You're like that."

At that moment,

"Oh, Kyoji! Kyoji!"

A loud voice came from behind.

"Eh?"

Looking back, some kind of raccoon was constantly running and stopped in front of them. It was the raccoon dog from the other day.

"Oh, Kyoji and Taku!"

"You... don't disrespect people."

"Oh, sorry, Kyoji and Taku."

"I'm telling you to put the "kun" on it."

"Hahaha."

"You were called "Mika-chan" by your friends."

Choya yelled from the side.

"Looks like the uniform is different today."

"Oh, that's right. Taku-kun, are you a person who knows about this kind of thing?"

That day, the Tanuki was wearing a uniform from a local public school. She wasn't as floaty as the prestigious private uniform from the other day, but after all, she was in disguise somewhere.

"What is that? What do you mean?"

Choya answered the boy's question.

"Maybe she's walking around in another school's uniform. I don't know if it's private or public, but I don't know if she's actually enrolled..."

"I will hit you!"

When the Tanuki said that without being afraid,

"Hey, Somekichi."

Across the street, high school students in the same uniform and various men and women waved their hands.

"What are you doing?" "Are you going to karaoke?"

Thereafter,

"Oh, right~"

The Tanuki turned to the students as she said…

"I'm going to work part time!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." "I'll call you later." "Do your best at the part-time job."

The students started walking again.

"Part time job?"

"What is Somekichi?"

When Koji and Choya asked her...

"Huh, are you interested in that? It's me."

Saying that, the Tanuki smiled. As usual, the alignment of her front teeth was poor.

"Somekichi Mikako, part-time worker, 17 years old.", the Tanuki called to herself.

Although she did not go to high school, she wore a uniform and went in and out of various schools, and she had many friends.

"Are you a fake student?"

"Well, it's the value of the Joshi Kose, that's why it's in demand. Fufufu."

"No way, you're doing suspicious work."

Before the boy, Tanuki-Mikako slammed the palm of her hand against the large cardboard box that had been strapped to the mamachari's loading platform.

(Note: Mamachari is the shortened expression in Japanese for mama no charinko (mom's bike). These types of bikes are equipped with a basket in front or behind, and a special seat can be placed on them to carry a child and circulate safely.)

"Fufufu...money to watch? It's my job."

The contents of the box were tightly packed pocket tissues. The phone number was printed on the package.

"Tissues distribution?"

Looking around him, there was a part-time job handing out similar tissues in front of the busy station. She will take a long time to complete the quota for a large box, as passersby often ignore her.

"Well, it's okay to work seriously, but... it's a normal job for a while."

"Although my work is futuristic, "Puri" is different, "Puri"."

"What is "Puri"?"

"Fufufu, look at me, look at me."

Perhaps it was a part-time job uniform, Mikako put on a fluorescent cap that shone on her uniform, reached into the box, and held a bunch of tissues in her left and right hands. And...

"Love & Peace!"

"Eh?"

As she ran through the crowd in front of the station at full speed, she hugged the waist of a middle-aged office worker in front of her.

"What?!"

Several tissues swirled in the suit pocket of a salaryman who made a strange voice and stiffened.

"Uhahahaha! Uhahahaha!"

"Hey, peace, peace! Thanks!"

Mikako ran towards the children as she one-sidedly thanked the clerk who took it away.

"How about? A part-time job I thought up."

"No... no matter what you say."

"What is this "part time job"?"

"I call it "Aggressive Free Hug". Fufufu... With this trick, the tissues will be sold 10 times faster and there will be no conflict in the world. Imagine..."

"It's far from a Tsukkomi."

"It's a technique or an eccentricity, it's almost the work of a youkai, that's all."

"Oh? I don't know either."

Mikako filled her hands with tissues again and...

"Fufufu, there is a secret in the low pass when tackle."

"Don't ask. She just said tackle. It's not a hug."

"So, next time I'm targeting that onichan, take a closer look."

The target was a tanned young man in a tank top. He maybe he went to the gym, he had a good physique and was muscular.

"Come on! Love & Peace!"

Mikako ran towards the man and...

"Gak!"

The next moment, she rolled onto his back.

"Eh?!"

The boy hurried.

"Hey, Mikako, are you alright?! Wow, there's blood coming out!"

"Uh..."

Mikako pointed at the man.

"I was able to adjust my knees to the tackle..."

"Hey, hey!"

"Wait."

Choya stopped the boy who was about to activate his fire power towards a man.

Then, turning back to the confused man, he said…

"I was watching. Do you practice martial arts too? Something jumped out like a strange animal, so I tried to lift my leg and stop it. It came running out of his face."

"Oh, yeah... Hey, Mikako, show me where did you hit... Oh, your front teeth are messed up!"

"That... isn't that..."

"Oh, this is a row of teeth. Did you hit your nose? The nose isn't crushed either. Does it originally look like this? You just had a nosebleed."

"Sorry, I got involved in something strange. It's okay, go away."

Choya urged him to do so, but the man left at least 5,000 bills for medical expenses.

And...

"Hehehe, I made a profit."

Mikako, who covered her nose with a tissues, looked at the boy and Choya.

"I have cash, maybe I'll have some tea. I'll treat you!"

"Tea… what about your part-time job?"

"Well, it might not be a job if her nose bleeds..."

Mikako paced back and forth with a large box as the boy and Taku said so. And when she hit the side of the box and draw the attention of passersby...

"Hey, hey! Attention, free tissues! Free tissues! Take them away!"

She left the box in the middle of the street and came back.

"It's finished. Let's go!"

"It's not finished. I'm going to get sick when I do technical work."

"First of all, I'm not saying I'll find you."

"Hehehe. Don't hesitate."

While saying that, when she tries to pick up the mamachari parked on the side of the street, the ringtone of the mobile phone sounded from the pocket of Mikako's uniform.

"Oh, the phone."

The clamshell mobile phone was a type of clamshell that was common before PDAs. Many pets were hanging in the leash hole.

"Hello, this is Some-san. Eh, Nanisore, really? Ah... yeah, that's fine. Thanks for helping me out. Hahaha. See you soon."

She closed the mobile phone.

"Sorry, I have another part-time job. Maybe next time we'll go for tea!"

"You don't have to apologize. Go on your own."

"Hmm...?"

Mikako stopped and looked at the boy's expression.

"That's right. Well, I'm glad Kyoji has recovered."

"Ah? What are you saying all of a sudden?"

"Actually, I was a bit worried. When I met him on the train, he surprised me."

― She look closely.

Choya thought.

It is true that the boy that day was depressed about Kadota's death. That's why he constantly said bad things about Kadota and his dead family.

"Shut up...! What are you saying?"

Mikako suddenly hugged the boy who turned red and denied it.

"No..."

"If you feel sad again... wipe your tears with this."

"You..."

The boy grabbed Mikako's shoulder and pulled her away from him.

"That's how you put your used tissues in the pocket! Also, you got a little blood from your nose! It's dirty!"

"Uhahahahahahahahahahaha!"

Mikako jumped on the bike and ran off.

"Love & Peace!"

After that, on the train back, the boy was slandering Mikako.

Later...

"What's wrong with that chibi?"

"Raccoon dog."

"Gnashing teeth and laughing."

"I don't know... I can't forgive her, a woman without manners."

― Oh, this is... a lovable boy every time. If you are a little nice, you can understand immediately.

Choya thought that.

― I wonder why.

He also thought the same.

In a life where you see a dead body three times a week, how can this guy not be dead?

How can he grieve over people, get angry over irrationality, and people like him?

How can the light of the soul be kept forever as a tiny spark?

"Well, we won't find her anymore."

The boy leaned against the exit door and looked at the scenery outside the window. The setting sun shone red on his cheeks.

"I could be dead tomorrow… right, Taku?"

"Come on...what was that?"

Choya looked away with a dazzling sensation and at the same time a small backlash.

"Hey, what are you asking with that?"

This time, the point was directed at Choya. The boy said, narrowing his mouth as if he was sulking.

"Oh, you know, that guy is crazy, really crazy."

++++++++++

Boys meet girls.

This is that summer story. It is the story of three children who shone and disappeared like sparks that summer.

One of the three did not wait for "the day." The other was right in the whirlwind of "the day."

And the last one is...

#k #k project #k seven stories #k ground zero #k novel #kagutsu genji #red clan purgatory #k stories #old scepter 4 #habari jin

18 notes · View notes

alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 16

Wordcount: 4, 869 Rating: M for strong language, moderate sexual references, violence, and gore The reader is referred to as she/her. "God knows. Maybe you have a greater purpose to serve. Why else did he make you?" Chapter synopsis: And you never considered yourself trigger-happy. But the shots have been fired. They're dead before you can interrogate them. Allen is eager to convince you it was the right thing to do, but even he can't deny the horrors that will follow. The war rages on. Alfred stays ignorant for the meantime, and you revel in his bliss of it. You share one last peaceful night with him before the fearful unknown.

16 - Nothing breaks like a heart

The reader is referred to as she/her.

An ear-splitting bang echoed in the pool room. Blood and small chunks of flesh landed on the tiled floor in a splat. Tearing his hand away with a shaky gasp, he held the wrist and hunched over to writhe in agony. "Ergh... Fuck!" He spluttered, feeling a violent tremble seize his wounded hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He lifted his head to glare at you with the utmost betrayal. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

A sizely hole formed in his palm. The exposed flesh was still oozing out blood like a full sponge, dripping onto the ground in generous puddles. A whole section of his bone was missing. And you did it. You shot Alfred. You paled in horror for a few moments, but as he panted before you with tears streaming down his red and enflamed face, it became apparent that your guilt was unfounded.

"What I did that for? You aren't Alfred!" You exasperated, raising the gun shakily to point it between his fearful eyes. "You're a clone!"

A sour flavor was left in your mouth as you spat out the word. His origins were no mystery.

Nobody else could have been responsible or capable of such a heinous crime. To grow an abomination from whatever DNA was left in their lab. You only imagined them to be created for one purpose, and one purpose only. To torment, kill, and replace Alfred. As the thoughts raced through your head, you tightened your finger around the trigger—"Wait, wait! Don't shoot!" He begged, throwing his arms up.

"I know you're freaking out right now, but I have no idea what's going on either!"

Gritting your teeth at his excuse, you were determined to not let it get to you. But it was easier said than done. "Shut up! Don't think for a second you can fool me!" Despite the cutting conviction of your voice, you took on a terrified expression at the thought of shooting him. "I'm gonna do it. You're nothing but a freak of nature! And you'll never... Never..."

As you trailed off, you realized you indeed couldn't pull the trigger.

Not when the barrel was aimed at a face that looked just like Alfred's.

It was contorted with so much fear and despair, pleading silently for you to not hurt him. The fact that he was a spitting image of him made it even harder. How he moved, talked, acted—seeing it chipped away your resolve, leaving you all but paralyzed. The gun was left juddering furiously in your hands in light clacks, holding him hostage at the moment before death.

"Please. Please don't do it." He whispered, bringing his hands down to shield himself. "You gotta help me, (F/N). I don't know how, but I woke up in this body. That's... That's all that happened."

How painfully familiar it sounded.

I woke up in this body.

The similarities were so uncanny, it was cruel. Giving your head a quick shake, your lips quivered as you uttered this.

"You're lying. You're not real."

Creases formed between his brows. "I'm not lying! And I am real! I'll prove it to you, I swear! We went through so much shit together, like uh—" He pointed at you and laughed nervously as he sifted through the scanty archives of his memories. "—I kidnapped you. Ha! See? I know something! That's how we met! And you hated my guts at first."

You swallowed thickly as uncertainty slowly overwhelmed you. If he could remember that, he had to be real, right? No. You had to fend off the feeling. "That's not good enough!" Your finger stayed on the trigger, and the barrel, on him.

He tensed up as panic caught him in a chokehold. "Okay, okay! Well, er..." His heart was pounding harder and harder with every second he failed to say something. "... Oh! Remember the time I nearly got murdered by a cult leader? He had a whole kabuki mask get-up and everything—just like, like Professor Callaghan from Big Hero 6. You know that movie right?"

You sucked in a sharp breath. The title didn't ring any bells, but what he said had you second-guessing yourself. Was he not lying after all? Lowering the gun at that, your motion was slowed by slight hesitance. "... How... How do you know those things?" You asked faintly. "What are you?"

Before he could formulate an answer, footsteps thudded down the hall. Your thoughts came to a complete standstill.

Then, you heard a voice.

"(F/N)!" They shouted. Was it Allen? Your heart sank when you realized you couldn’t tell—it sounded too similar to Alfred. Or were you just imagining things? The sheer amount of panic was too incapacitating that you couldn't think.

So you did the unthinkable.

Raising the gun once more, you fired a shot into his abdomen.

The second you let the bullet fly, you regretted it.

Both your ears rang as the next few moments occurred in silence. And they would unfold in painstakingly slow motion. Dropping the gun to the ground in a soundless clatter, you watched him stumble back a few steps with his eyes popping out of his skull. Blood was spreading around the flaps of his kimono from a new hole in his chest. But the gore couldn't compare to his look of betrayal.

Of a heartbreak so deep, it destroyed you.

"Oh my God..." You raised both hands to your mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed on the ground in a bloody heap. "I just—I just killed—" Tears streamed relentlessly down to your chin as you stood frozen.

"(F/N)! I heard gunshots. What the fuck happened?!" Allen appeared in the doorway. His loud voice derailed your train of thoughts, forcing you to turn to the man. When you did, your heart clenched at the realization you made a mistake. It wasn't him. Alfred was never down the hall, and you panicked.

He never even had a chance to explain himself.

When Allen caught sight of the corpse by your feet, he dug his hands through his hair. Terror ran deep in his expression as he processed what he was seeing. "Shit, (F/N)." His nose scrunched up in shock. Never did he imagine the day would come where you would take someone's life. At least, not so soon.

But it arrived as an unwelcome surprise, unexpected and uninvited. "Did you kill that guy?"

You nodded profusely as a sob racked your body.

He scrambled over and shielded you from the grotesque scene. "Hey, hey, hey! Don’t feel bad! I’ve killed loads of people too, so welcome to the club!" The man rambled frantically, rubbing away your tears with his fingers. But who was he to tell you these things when he felt his own tears come?

"I’m sure he deserved it, and you were just protecting yourself, so don’t worry!" Allen forced a wide, manic smile.

His efforts to console you were in vain as you cried even harder. Pulling you into his chest, he rested his chin on your head that trembled to your coughs. "I'm so sorry..." Allen screwed his eyes shut and squeezed you tighter. "... I’m sorry I left you by yourself. This is my fault, not yours. It's my fault."

The string of apologies he spewed out was on your behalf, but he meant them with every fiber of his being. He had failed to protect the single most valuable thing to him.

And the blatant lie he forced you to accept was the last resort to preserve it. But it was time that stopped. "No, I killed him." You asserted shakily. He had nothing to do with this, and his eagerness to shoulder the blame only rubbed more salt into the wound. If you let him have his way, you would never live it down.

Without removing yourself from the hug, you pointed at the motionless body with your head turned away. "Look at him. I could never lie."

Allen lingered his gaze on you before obliging, albeit reluctantly. Nearing the corpse cautiously, he kicked its chest to roll it over. It revealed the dead man’s face in all its glory. Alfred’s face.

"..."

What the fuck.

When he thought he couldn’t be any more disgusted by the tyranny of technology, he was proved wrong yet again. This was clearly your father’s doing. And it was a declaration of war. But perhaps, it was just the continuation of the one that never ended.

Arthur was completely shit-faced downstairs. Slamming his beer mug down on the counter after he downed the whole thing, he gasped.

"Bwah! That hits the spot." His cheeks and ears were redder than a tomato, a stark contrast to his companion who was stone-cold sober.

Alfred raised a brow. "Sure looks like it. Dude, you gotta lay off the booze. You’re gonna regret it first thing tomorrow." Once he sighed that out, he rested his cheek on his hand. Then, he glowered at the hallway where you and Allen disappeared to.

"How long does it take to piss? They’ve been gone for ages. Twenty minutes? Thirty minutes? I don’t fucking know," The mechanic let out a low chuckle and slapped him on the back. The force made his torso bounce, much to his annoyance. "What’s your deal?"

The other hummed mischievously. "I was just thinking about what you said." Arthur squinted almost suggestively, causing Alfred to do the same, but only out of being appalled. "Maybe... Maybe they aren’t pissing. Since they’re gone for so long at the bathrooms at that—so maybe, urgh... They’re doing the nasty together." The Brit practically howled with laughter, having figured he was probably right.

It was a plausible assumption. As he humored the suggestion Alfred heated up more severely than his intoxicated friend. You having sex with Allen? His chest whirred and nostrils flared. He'd never been this enraged before, but behind the mask of anger was a deep hurt and toxic kind of jealousy.

"Shut up! You’re drunk and slurring your words. You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Arthur snorted. "Sorry to break it to you, brother. But the only time I’m this honest is when I’m drunk, so."

Alfred’s eyes went round. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shot out of his stool and made a beeline to the hall. Before he could make it far, he bumped right into the very subjects of his conversation. Much to his relief, they were in no state that indicated they did anything sexual by nature; you were in his arms and fast asleep. Not that he was happy about it. "Woah. She's out like a light."

"Yeah, so keep your voice down." The other grumbled, bouncing you lightly. "I think it's about time we head home. How drunk is he?"

The blonde blinked. He wasn't expecting him to catch on so quickly. "Off his ass. He's red as."

Allen clicked his tongue and brushed past him. "Called it." Alfred would have dismissed it as something he always did. But since he was carrying you, it made him feel like an extra. So when the man walked off, he followed with a scowl. "Can you get a cab? I'm gonna sit in the corner for a bit."

And sit in the corner he did, laying your body across his lap so you could rest. Alfred narrowed his eyes into a dark glare, lingering on the sight as the club music pounded away in his ears. And he told him to keep his voice down? "Yeah, I'll call you a damn cab."

You pretended to be asleep the whole ride back to Arthur's. It was easy with Allen's shoulder at a perfect height for your face to bury in. For half an hour, you were stuck in that position. There, you listened to the symphony of a trip home from the club: the automated voice of the taxi A.I and the drunken warbles of an intoxicated friend. Without seeing it, you could feel Alfred watching you for the whole duration of the ordeal.

Fortunately, you could escape any interaction with him as Allen carried you to the bathroom upon arriving.

"Oi, where are you taking her?"

The redhead kicked the door open. "What does it look like?"

"Shouldn't you wake her up, at least?"

"Yeah, yeah. Quit breathing down my neck, already."

"Dude—"

The door locked. Setting you down on your feet, you held onto his arms to regain your balance. Once you did, you glanced up at him with the utmost panic. "I can't face him." Digging two hands through your hair, you let out a shaky gasp—"Oh my god, I don't know what to do! I shot him, Allen. I fucking shot him! What's he gonna think of me when he finds out?"

He sighed and gripped your shoulders firmly. With his brows furrowed in a stern expression, he corrected you. "You didn't shoot him. You shot another version of him." Allen couldn't stress that enough. But there were many things he needed to shed a light on in this emergency bathroom meeting. "And it was kinda my fault that happened. If I was there, I woulda' shot him for you."

"That's not the point, here! And it's never gonna be your fault. It's mine, and mine alone. End of story." You swiped a hand across his face for emphasis. While he groaned in dismay, a brief pause followed as you regained your breath.

At least an hour had passed, but you still couldn't wrap your head around it.

"I can't believe I did that. I don't even know how I could! I panicked. I thought Alfred was coming down the hall, but—"

"—but it was me. Doll-" Allen exasperated, dragging out the pet name. "-you can't blame yourself for what you did. Shit happens. And who says what you did was wrong, huh? You probably just saved us all from a bloodbath. And you know that!" Rocking you gently back and forth to shake some sense into you, he leaned in to peer into your wide eyes staring into space.

"That's why you shot him. You did the right thing."

As he blurted that out, the memory replayed in your head again and again like a broken record. Intrusive thoughts were a bitch. And there was one particular detail of the event that you would never forget. "Was it the right thing to do, though?" You murmured, lowering your doubtful gaze to the tiled floor. The betrayal in his eyes was so genuine, you came to regret everything you've done.

"What if he was real like he said?"

You were asking some hard-hitting questions, that was for sure. Everything else was shrouded in a fog of uncertainty.

"Well, it wouldn't matter if he was real. Cuz' he's dead."

Allen's expression morphed into a dark glower.

"But if he was still alive, there'd be two of him, and not for long. They'd kill each other, for sure. I mean, if I found out there was a second-rate version of me farting around out there, I'd kill that poser for sport. Hunt him down like game." Lifting up your chin so you'd look at him, he flashed a grin.

"So don't feel bad. You killed him and saved Alfred the trouble."

Softening your gaze at that, you pulled him into another hug. Allen was always amazing at comforting you in the direst of situations.

"... Maybe you're right."

He chuckled and patted your back. "I'm always right."

But there was still one concern he could never address.

If your father made a clone of Alfred, a real and legitimate copy, there was no saying he could make another. Hell, you even expected him to. He could keep churning him out so long as he had his DNA. The only way to end this threat was quick to cross your mind, but you didn't want to think about it.

You would have to kill your father.

Allen figured. But today suffered enough bloodshed.

Before he left the bathroom for you to use, he held onto your cheek.

Flickering his striking scarlet eyes over your troubled expression, he caught you in a quiet gaze. You could easily translate the untold fondness he watched you with. We can still run away together.

He pulled away slowly, reluctantly. Then, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It never crossed your mind the first time he brought it up earlier tonight, but you finally understood what he really meant by running away. Allen wanted to share his life with you. Heat flurried in your chest as you considered the idea.

Tears threatened to return once you realized how much you wanted to do it, just not with him. The desire was there, but it happened to be stronger for someone else.

Alfred had been waiting outside with his back against the wall, arms crossed with a frown. It only deepened when Allen walked out.

"What're you lookin' at?" The redhead mumbled.

"... Nothing. Just wondering why you two spend so much time in the bathroom together." Alfred pointed out, glancing down at the cigarette between his fingers. He would have been jumping for joy if it weren't for wanting to look serious. "What were you doing with her in the penthouse?"

The other felt a spell of irritation hit him. It was always jealousy with this one, wasn't it? But he couldn't be a hypocrite. "None a'ya business, bub." He hummed, slotting the cancer stick in between his teeth. A sly smirk widened his lips as he saw the blonde tense up. "You saw how tired she was. So don't even think about it."

Don't even think about it, he'd said. How come everything coming out of his mouth sounded like a euphemism for sex? Don't keep her up with stupid conversations would've sounded better. Alfred huffed and stormed back to the guest room. Or was it just his mind that was in the gutter? He blamed Arthur for even bringing it up.

Hanging his clothes on a chair, he curled up under the covers. His chest was whirring again, and the discomfort was akin to something you've gone through before. Separation anxiety. When you did show up ten minutes later, he rolled over to the door to watch your form. Hearing the fabric shuffle in your direction made your heart skip in panic.

He was awake.

"Arthur's puking his guts out, so if you hear coughing, it's him."

Hopefully, some light-hearted banter could keep you from acting up. But that was easier said than done.

The blanket lifted briefly so you could get under it. Once you got comfortable, he didn't hesitate to pull you in by the waist to spoon you. Ever since he saw you sleep in the club, and on Allen no less, he'd been dying to do this. "... I tried telling him." He murmured into your ear. "But I've slept through worse. You flop and roll a lot."

The feeling of his breath on your neck and the sound of his husky voice made your heart ache. Every night was spent like this, warm and snug in his arms, but tonight was different. Inside, you were still agonizing over what you had done to him, even if it wasn't exactly him. So to feel his chest rise against your back, then his legs rub against yours, you just couldn't take it—it was all too much.

Rolling over to him, you caught his neck in your arms and pulled it down for a tight squeeze. What you uttered next captured your deepest and most inexplicable desire. To truly be alone with him.

"I can't take it here anymore." You muttered furiously, hugging him around his neck to start crushing him.

He let out a shaky breath at the sudden pressure.

"Hey, hey, calm down. What's wrong?"

"I can't calm down. I need to talk to you. Alone." Sitting up at that, you pulled him along. It came especially easy as he stood up, eager to understand your spontaneity. "And in someplace that's not here. There's just... Too many people. Four is too many."

Alfred lit up, but his growing smile did his emotions no justice. He was ecstatic. Things were always simpler when it was just the two of you. Maybe you were finally getting sick of these cramped living conditions, the scrutiny. At least, he knew he was. So it was almost as if you read his mind. "Okaay. Are we going on a midnight adventure?" He piped.

But then again, you always seemed to be walking on the same wavelength as him.

He followed you around the room like a puppy as you collected some things—your jacket, then Alfred's phone to shoot Allen a text. We're off to the nearest no-tell motel to talk. We'll be back in the morning. Setting the device onto the desk, you threw him his belongings. His gun and trusty coil of tools. Catching them wordlessly, he shot you a quizzical look. "Well, aren't you mysterious? Where are we going?"

Little did he know, your decision to leave the house for the night had only so much to do with random selfish impulses. From the outside, it looked exactly like that. Up and going without a care in the world, without care for Allen, and becoming unreachable for the next several hours. But after what happened, you just needed time to recalibrate.

"Where we always used to go." You threw your jacket on. Dragging him out into the hall, he caught a brief glimpse of Arthur passed out over the toilet before he found himself in the garage.

Handing him his key, you opened the car door next to the driver's seat. "We have to be quick before Allen tries to stop us."

The said man was sitting on the roof when he heard the rumbling of the garage door. Immediately after the sound stopped, a car sped out of it with an aggressive vroom and disappeared into the night. Narrowing his eyes at the rear window, he stood up and tossed his cigarette over the edge. Where the hell were you going this late at night? And with Alfred, no less?

He could feel hot jealousy prick him all over again. But it was warped with a harrowing kind of sadness. No matter what he did or what he said, he couldn't seem to get in between you two. Allen sat back down and lit up another cigarette. Giving that a few puffs, he surrounded his head in a cloud of grey smoke. Maybe he did know you for too long.

For eight years, he'd been a brotherly figure in your life. Now, he was afraid that was all he was ever going to be.

~~~

Parking the car in the courtyard after the most thrilling joyride, you pulled Alfred into the reception to book a room. Given his inhumane strength, your efforts to drag him down the hall were to no avail. Peering down at you with a warm smile, his face contorted with an amused look as you tugged at his arm as hard as you could. "Easy there, tiger. This is a motel, not a five-star hotel."

Between two walls littered with cracks was a dimly lit interior. Everything smelt like vomit, piss, and alcohol to boot, and yet, you were bounding beside him in excitement. "I know! But doesn't this feel nostalgic? We lived in these places for ages." You exasperated, scanning a keycard to unlock the door.

Alfred didn't think he was a sentimental person, but hearing you reminisce the past so fondly was enough to change his smile into a bittersweet one. "I guess." He couldn’t remember everything like you, but for now, he could pretend he did. "Motels are economic and discrete, so where was a better place to go?"

Once you both got inside, he felt your hand let go of his. For a moment, he felt just the smallest dash of loneliness—it was the emptiness of not feeling you somewhere where you should have been. Fortunately, it faded when you gleamed at him while you explored the room with child-like curiosity.

"I think I did a pretty good job at converting you." Alfred mused.

You flopped onto the bed to lie on your back. "Converting me to what?"

The mattress dipped to your right, so you rolled over to face him. "To a commoner. Or maybe something lower than that." He grinned devilishly. And for that comment, he would earn a strong shove on his chest. Despite nearly falling off the edge, he merely scooted back in. "I've never seen someone this happy staying in a dump like this."

"Don't give yourself too much credit. I just miss it." Pausing briefly at that, a small smile spread to your lips when you saw his, wide and as endearing as ever. If there was one thing you wanted to see before you died, it was this. Alfred's warm smile. As you lingered on the thought, you realized you were completely smitten with him.

But most importantly, at peace.

This was exactly why you even dragged him here in the first place. For some quality alone time, backtracking, and a good, long talk without interruptions. "I'd know all about dumps." You murmured, reaching out to play with a lock of his sandy blonde hair. "Zao and I tend to find our best friends in them."

He chuckled airily. "Is this me?"

"... Well, sure. But I was talking about Allen."

Things got dark pretty fast.

You both laughed it off. He didn't have great memories of motels, but laying here with you reminded him of what you said about them. A lot of good things happened in these tiny rooms, apparently. And they were what you two talked about until three AM in the morning, standing together out on the balcony. From here, the heart of the city could be seen, from the aerial roads of spinners in the distance to the endless hills of skyscrapers and blinking lights.

"I was thinking," Alfred murmured quietly, turning his head to you. The right side of his face reflected the glow of the city. But it couldn't quite compare to the hope that lit up his eyes, as subtle as it was. "Is everything finally over?"

You turned to him, gaze softened. For just tonight, you would let him bask in his ignorance. And yourself, in his hold. "Not yet." You whispered. The feeling of his hand on your waist was a feeling you could get used to. Reaching out to his other one on the railing, you guided it to your side so he could hold you properly.

Alfred squeezed you eagerly, pressing closer to your body.

Taking his face into your hands, you gave him one last gesture of untold affection. It was a culmination of raw emotion free from your own better judgment. A means to communicate without talking.

You pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

At that very space in time, a singular thought occurred to both of you—I wish this moment would last forever.

"But we'll make it... Just like we always do."

What would you do if I killed you?

Nothing, because I'd be dead.

What if you survived? Or left behind a soul?

Then I'll come back and find you.

The club was still pounding away, much like the headache in his skull. Sucking in a sharp breath, he suffered the worst wake-up call in his short life—he was still bleeding, and in terrible pain. He shakily felt around his wound while hyperventilating on the ground. How he hadn't kicked the bucket yet was beyond him.

"Get your ass up already. I know you're not dead." A man growled in disdain, giving the body on the ground a light kick.

"Gh—!" He let out a pained gasp and clung onto the ground for dear life. It had been years since he felt this alive—ironically, it was when he was inches away from death.

His perpetrator had their dark eyes fixated on him like a stain on the floor. Their pupils were as red as the blood his victim bathed in. But they always had a strong stomach for gore. "What am I gonna say when the owner finds out I'm the reason you even got in here? You're bleeding into the pool." They murmured, raising his leg to keep tormenting the other like a new hobby.

With a few more kicks, the body rolled onto its back.

"Ugh... Fuck... How am I not dead?" He coughed in agony.

The other shrugged, flicking their ponytail over their shoulder. "God knows. Maybe you have a greater purpose to serve." As cryptic as that sounded, it was nothing but the truth. He had more to his life than dying in a nightclub. Dying could be a part of it, but this couldn't be the location to do it, nor could it be by your hand—the closest kin to his creator.

"Why else did he make you?"

14 notes · View notes

dreamyjoons · 4 years

Text

Rattled - jjk - I

⥋ Living outside of Paradise had few perks. The desert was harsh, the sun harsher, and the animals deadly. But out stumbles a man. Secretive, beautiful and chased by his demons, he brings to the surface a past you thought you’d long since buried. But you can only hide for so long.

Genre/warnings: wild west au! Jungkook x reader, single parent!Y/N. for this chapter, no warning. Some shooting and spooked animals.

The rest of the upcoming parts will contain smut, angst, character death and some violence. Be aware before moving forward, this will be 18+.

Words: 3.3k

A/N: so i’m late again hahah. Here’s the start for my milestone celebration. And because of how long this was getting, I’ve decided to split it up into a few parts! If this is something you don’t want to see, please enjoy one of my other fics 🥰😉 i have some more one-shots planned! Thank ya’ll for sticking around. I hope this is worth the wait. ♥️ more to follow soon!

The screech of the crows always managed to echo across the stretching desert.

It always makes the cattle restless. They jostled uneasily in their field, mooing loudly. They were particularly riled all afternoon.

"Something's got them awfully restless today, Ma."

You look back to your son who perched awkwardly on his horse, scanning the moving mass of bodies as if he could spot trouble. He already looks so much like his father, almost to his full height, dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail and crevice in his cheek as he chews it anxiously. You could feel a smile prick at your lips.

"Just keep an eye out, Eli." You sigh, tugging your wide-brimmed hat lower on your head as your horse whickers quietly below you.

But nothing out of the ordinary stirred. And you didn't want you both to be out in the sun for too much longer.

The heat was blistering. And though you both lived in the middle of the desert, today was turning out to be something all in its own league. The sun beats down hard, and judging by how high it was in the sky, you were about to reach the hottest point of the day.

You ruffled your riding skirts to get some kind of cooling to your body, but all it did was manage to jostle your creaky old pistol almost out of the holder on your hip. You gave up, simply letting yourself swelter.

"Come on, let's head back." You shout, gently tugging the reins to one side and clicking your tongue at your horse.

You turned, moving your way slowly through the cattle on the outskirts of the main herd. Once you had broken free from the group and with a quick glance over your shoulder to see if your son was close by before breaking into a gallop.

You both fly across the field, Eli whooping loudly as he tries to overtake you. Letting your laugh loose into the wind, you hunker down against your horse as if you were getting the edge you needed to win.

But softly you reared the horse back just a little to slow you down. Within seconds your son was flying past you, letting out a holler into the air as he gets closer to the edge of the enclosure. Once he's near the fence he turns back to you and grins, enthusiastically stroking the horse and gushing praise at the animal.

You slow your pace as you reach him, pretending to not see him as you come to a halt and get off the horse. You walk both of you forward and open the gate, bringing the horse through and waiting for Eli to come through too.

"Come on Ma, you gotta admit that I won that time."

"Hm, what? Did you hear something Pickle?" You ask the horse, a smirk plain of your face.

"Wow Ma, you're a sore loser." He laughs, brushing flyaway strands of hair from his face as he trots ahead of you. He shifts back awkwardly to look at you, and once he sees you smirking he giggles.

With the gate firmly shut behind you, you mount your horse again and lead the way back to your home. Eli excitedly jabbers on, telling you about the constellations he'd seen the night before and the size of the hawk that he'd seen that morning. Though there was little life for a boy out in the desert, he seemed to be perfectly content. He found something new to learn every day. Just like his father.

"... And I’m pretty sure it was playing with a rattlesnake but dropped it. So it might still be lurking." He warned, his bright eyes meeting yours. You nod at him, heart squeezing in your chest as you lead you both to the horse paddock.

For one last time you slip off the horse, waiting for your son to enter before shutting the gate behind you. You begin unsaddling the horse, placing the items on the rickety fence.

Once you and Eli had unburdened the horses, you walked to the bag you had left earlier that sat near the gate, producing two less-than shiny apples. You throw one to Eli before gently holding the other out on the palm of your hand.

Pickle skips forward and whinnies excitedly before taking the apple from your hand. you laugh and rub the big boy along his nose before stepping back. You move towards the gate and wait for Eli, watching his wide-eyed delight as he talks to his horse. The big horse playfully nudges your son, nuzzling him until the apple is presented to her.

"One day that horse is gonna bite you if you keep teasing her." You frown, hand placed on your hip.

"Nah, Maple would never. She loved Daddy too much and I look just like him. and she always gets the apple, she knows that." Your son walks back to your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

"You gotta stop growing. I can’t see the top of your head any more." you smile, hugging your son close to you as you slip out of the paddock gate.

"No way, I'm gonna keep growing. Soon I'll be fifteen and taller than all the men in Paradise." He grins, nothing bringing him greater pleasure than towering over anyone he meets.

"That you will, that you will." You smile, turning your head and staring bitterly in the direction of the nearby town.

You release each other as you both grab the saddles and bridles off of the fence, walking them back to the small barn that sits beside your small home. Once stored away, you both walk back to the small that you call home, sat in the middle of dusty nowhere.

Eli jogs ahead of you, rushing inside to sniff at the pot that sat bubbling over the fire. He spins back at you, grin plastered on his face.

"Can we eat now?"

"Go wash up. And properly, don't just splash some water on your face. You got dust behind your ears." You straight face, ignoring the groans he makes as he plods off.

You busy about the kitchen, unhitching the gun belt from your waist and placing it on the side before using some bits of burlap and lifting the scalding pot off the stove. You plant it on the scorch-marked area on the table, pushing away the memories that burn to the surface when you look at it.

Once it's sat steadily on the table, you turn away, bustling to grab bowls and spoons for you and Eli.

You'd have to make a run into town soon and get some more supplies. The thought made you groan. You tried to avoid Paradise and it’s twisted dwellers as much as you could, but it couldn’t be helped.

There was only so long Eli would enjoy three-bean stew. The horses need oats, you need more oil for the lamps and food for the month. And finally, finally, you could sell off some of the cattle. Half at least, you were hoping.

You hear a faint shuffling behind you, and absently think that it was too quick a wash for Eli to have cleaned behind his ears too.

"I'm not above inspecting you, young man." you warn, shuffling the bowls in your hands as you reach for spoons.

A low hiss rises from behind you, and you feel your blood run cold.

"Ma!" Eli shouts, and you slowly turn to see your son petrified in the doorway. With the minutest of movements, you turn to see a rattlesnake coiled behind you, its tail shaking erratically as it beadily watches you.

"Don't come any closer." You order to your boy, voice dangerously low.

Eli steps forwards regardless, and you realise too late that he has your pistol in his hands.

"No-!" You yelp, but he fires off the shot.

It hits nowhere near the snake, instead hitting the floor between you and the serpent before ricocheting off and splintering through the wall beside you.

Luckily it startles the snake enough for it to lose it's focus on you. You seize the moment and drop the bowls, the shattering splintering loudly in the air.

You dart towards Eli and rip the gun from his hands. You spin the barrel, cock the gun and take aim. You exhale before you line up the shot, pulling the trigger within a second. It lands just millimetres from the snake, startling it enough to get it to race away, out through the open door and out into the desert.

You race to the door, making sure the serpent steers clear of your animals as it speeds away. You follow the trail of dust it shakes loose, the adrenaline in your blood fading with the reptile.

Once it's gone you spin back to Eli, dropping the pistol on the table and racing round to him. You take his face in your hands, your middle fingers sit behind his ear, letting your thumb and forefinger rest on his face.

"You okay?" You ask, and he nods in your hands, eyes startled wide.

"Are you?" He asks, voice cracking.

"I'm okay, it didn't bite me." You assure him, pulling him into a hug. He squeezes you back tightly, his breathing staggered. You pull back and take his head in your hands again, giving him a small smile.

"I'm still here, E. I'm not going anywhere." You tell him, planting a soft kiss to his forehead.

Once he nods you finally release him, letting your fingers slide from his face. Absently you look down and see dust on your fingers that had been sat behind his ears.

"What did I say about washing properly?" You ask, holding your hands up at him.

"I... sensed danger and had to act?" he laughs awkwardly, slowly stepping backwards.

"Oh no, mister!" You shout, darting at him, chasing him through your small house to where the washbasin sat. "Now we both have to wash up!"

----

"Okay, put both hands on the pistol, but keep your finger off the trigger for now."

Eli follows your instructions closely, raising the pistol high, tongue poking slightly out of the side of his mouth as he focuses. You bite your lip as you watch him, determined to not laugh and distract him.

"Okay, now," you gesture to the three fist-size logs of wood that sit against the barn, "when you're ready, exhale, and fire once you've fully let it out. Ready?"

"Ready." He murmurs, dark brow furrowed as he locks his eyes on the first log down the small barrel.

"Fire away-"

You'd barely finished when he fires the first shot. It misses the wood on the left-hand side spectacularly, going through the side of the barn two feet higher than he needed. He clenches his jaw, making a dimple hollow out in his cheek before he moves onto the next one and firing.

You never see where the bullet lands, but something tells you that it's rocketing its way across the desert somewhere far beyond the barn. He sidesteps, taking in another deep breath and blowing it out slowly. You know how he's feeling, how frustrating it is to continually miss - but the urge to laugh was strong. Too strong.

Finally, he aims at the last one on the right and pulls the trigger - only for the bullet to graze the first stump he fired at, four feet to the left. You were marvelled at how spectacularly he missed them. It seemed an accomplishment in itself.

He looks at you with a scowl on his face, before letting out a grizzly moan and slumping. The gun hangs by his side and you repress your laughter even harder, stepping forward to take the weapon from his hands.

"I suck at this."

"No, you don't-"

"I do! You can do it! You could've bullseye'd that snake earlier if you wanted to! I can't even hit the barn if I tried."

"It took me years of practise when you were growing up. You just need a little tuning up."

"I bet dad was a good shot too." He mumbles, letting his head hang.

"E... your daddy was awful." you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Really?!" His head bolts up, eyes wide as he stares at you.

"Oh yeah. He couldn't hit a wall if it was sitting right in front of him."

"And neither can I!" he chirps, gesturing to the woodshed beside you. All you can do is laugh. It's light, pushing away the sad cloud that threatened to hover over you. Eli had that effect on you every day.

The sky was taking on an orange tint as the evening starts to fade. It was still impossibly warm, the heat clinging to your skin despite how low the sun was dropping.

But there was something wrong. It was loud. Louder than normal.

You instinctively cast your eyes to the cattle fields, only to see a cloud of dust shrouding the area. They were all pressed against the fences, thrashing wildly and bellowing into the evening air. Something was definitely wrong.

“Eli, get in the house and lock it. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, ride to town and get the sheriff-“ your voice is low and you push him towards the house. Once he was over the threshold you grab your rifle, hitch your skirt higher and back race out past him. He was frightened, you could see it in his wide eyes, and the way he frowned.

“But Ma-“

“Now!”

You watch as he reluctantly disappears behind the door, and as soon as you hear the lock slide you bolt towards the cattle field. Something ticks in your gut, an unease that made your teeth grate.

There was no way you’d be able to get through the gate with the cattle pushed up against it. Your run harder, feet slapping or the hard ground as you find a free section of fence. You throw the rifle over before you vault it, scrambling to pick it up and running to the front of the herd.

It was impossibly loud, almost too loud for you to think. But they were scrambling away from something, and with a steadying breath to stifle the fear that rises in you, you move towards it. You raise the clunky rifle as you creep forward. You hoped you’d never have to fire it.

But then, through the sounds of trampling and the braying of the cattle you hear a groan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you lower the weapon. You feel your jaw slacken, but you move quicker towards the noise. As the cattle skitter out of the way, you see it-

Not it, a man. He’s slumped on his hands and knees, filthy and sweaty. It was as if all the energy had drained from him. He was labouring his breath, the bone weariness evident on him. It hung off him like his clothes.

“Who the hell are you?”

At your angry words, he slowly pushes off his hands, swaying as he tries to steady himself on his knees. You lower the gun by your side - he didn’t look like he would be going anywhere fast, and you can draw faster than he can get to you. But still you were uneasy, worry tingling at your edges, fraying your thoughts.

“I…” he croaks. His voice is so dry you can barely hear him.

His dark head of hair was full of dust, messy and clumped together like he’d not bathed in weeks. His white shirt had long since lost its gleam, a reddish brown smothering it. His trousers were tattered, ripped and pulled, barely holding together. A handkerchief was tied around his neck, probably used as a makeshift face covering. You realise that must mean he’d been walking across the plains - but no one makes it alive with no water or horse.

“What are you doing in my field?”

“Ma’am… water?” He croaks, lifting his head to look at you.

“Not until you answer one of my questions.”

He squints up at you with dark eyes, the faintest smile dancing across his face. You could barely make him out though, his face hidden under the dust. He winces, tongue darting out to try and wet his chapped ashy lips. It was completely distracting, and you found yourself lowering your guard…

“Answer me!” You shout, snapping out of it. He sighs but makes no move to explain himself.

“Well then, I guess we’ll see what the Sheriff has to say-“

“Wait! Please… no.” He rushes before a cough rattles his body. He must have been so severely hydrated, you were surprised he still had the strength to stay upright.

Something felt wrong. Like an icy trickle of your past eeking its way down your spine. It was enough to send your heart thumping against your ribcage, your palms sweating.

“Then how did you get here? Are you alone?” Your voice creeps higher and cracks.

“... alone.”

You let out a breath, but the tension in your stomach still knots.

“Ma?”

You spin, the wind kicked out of your lungs as you see Eli standing there, shock on his face. He looks between you and the man on the floor, his eyes blowing wide.

“Eli! What the hell are you doing?!”

“I thought you might’ve needed help-“

“What if it’s not safe?” You shout, your blood thrashing in your veins.

“Then you need help.” His voice is quiet and your heart breaks, but you try to keep calm, especially in front of the stranger. You take a breath. Then another.

“Get back in the house.”

“He needs help.” Eli mutters, and you clench your teeth.

“No, he needs to be off our property and away from you and me. He’s not our problem.”

“Ma, I know you’re not that cruel.”

“I can go… just… water…” the man croaks.

“Stay out of it!” You yelp, barely looking back at him over your shoulder. He shifts slightly, the tiredness pulling his eyes shut. A flicker of guilt passes through you, but you stamp it down. You had you and Eli to look out for.

Before the stranger can reply, Eli breezes past you. He crouches down next to the man, and carefully slides his arm over his shoulders. To your horror, you watch as Eli pulls them both to their feet. The man looks much bigger once he’s propped up by your son. Wider in stature with big filthy hands that grip Eli’s shirt for support as they slowly stagger towards the house, they were almost the same. And that worried you.

“Eli!”

“He’ll get trampled if he stays out here, Ma. It’s the right thing to do.” He walks towards the gate, the cattle scurrying from their path. He was just like his father, in nearly every way. It was like an axe through your chest. But that’s what softens you. An effect both of them had on you.

They’re awkward, Eli’s tall frame bundling the man forward. You bite your lip, and with the gun propped and ready at your side, you slip under the man’s other arm and ease the burden on your son.

“So what’s your name, stranger?” Eli asks gently, the physical strain barely hidden from his voice. There was no answer.

“Hey!” You ask, nudging the man in the side for a response.

He gasps at the pressure before he slumps heavily against you. You cry out as the dense man drops against you, his head knocking into yours. You shift him back towards Eli, only to realise he had passed out. You had to get him back, get him cleaned up and on his way before any trouble comes. At least if he’s clean you could make out his features properly.

“Brilliant.” You grumble, shifting the rifle awkwardly to get a better grip. “Just what we needed.”

#btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts series #my writing

182 notes · View notes

angelswithcigarettes · 3 years

Text

“Guardian hands”

Summary: Spencer has a hard time in the academy, he meets Morgan who tries his best to help him through.

Prompt: "You are disgusting"

Warnings: Minor injury, Bullying

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid

Word Count:3991

Chapters:4/4

First Chapter:

It is the third group of students coming in, always seven at the time, prepared to train clearing a simple building and Morgan doesn't notice much off of the group accept that one of them looks like he is still very young but sometimes they just do and even if he likes to drill the recruits from time to time he has no intention of making fun of them for something like this.

He knows there are colleagues that do this but he finds it more degrading than motivational, the kid won't be able to grow a beard and be ten times stronger by next week just because you said he still looks like he goes to elementary school.

"You all know what is going to happen, but are there any questions?" He asks standing in front of the group. "You can better ask the question now before I kick your ass for failing this. I won't judge you now."

"If one of us fails do we all?" A man with dark hair asks.

"No it was a figure of speech, you can't fail anything we are just practicing. Besides it's a team effort."

"We didn't get so lucky with that." Another one jokes and Morgan can see Spencer nervously biting his lip. But he ignores the comment, he has no meaning getting involved in their business.

"Okay get your vests on."

"Why do we need the vest?"

"So you get a feeling for it. The guns are probs but I am sure you already know that." He watches them get into their vests and orders everyone working inside the prop house on their position.

When he comes back he sees them joking around. "Okay focus now everyone." He speaks and takes notice of Spencer leaning his head towards his shoulder for a moment a hint that that was to loud for him and Morgan stays quiet for a second hoping he didn't overlooked something important in the paperwork he got for this exercise.

"Man what's wrong now?" One of them asks when Spencer knuckles his eyes.

"Kid you okay?" Morgan asks approaching him and Spencer nods and then looks up to him but breaks of eye contact pretty quickly. "It's okay to be nervous everyone. Now I will go upstairs from were I can see you and for the first try you guys can just try everything you want to clear this house. You have every time,talk it through first."

Morgan leaves them to it walking up the stairs from were he can look inside the house.

He normally likes to work with students who have been longer in the academy but every ones in a while this is fun too. He always with the younger ones is hoping that they leave this encouraged for their next ones,he is harsher on the older ones.

In the beginning he didn't want to teach at all but Gideon had convinced him to do one weekend and now he does it as often as he can.

He sees them debating and then they split in three groups, two people staying outside, three going in through the front door and two through the back door. He has seen worse.

Morgan got in trouble before for being to soft someone had said but he values Gideon's option more than the ones of some agents that already made his life in training a living hell.

The group would have been dead pretty quickly one of them didn't clear the first room correctly so when they all come back out they look unmotivated. "Alright the start was not bad, but you got sloppy then, take enough times to clear the rooms it doesn't help you when you do it fast but overlook someone."

"Dude how could you not see him?"

"I don't know he was hiding good." The man answers one of the two girls in the group.

"That's why you need to be more careful, check behind furniture, don't just light into the room ones and then go back out. Your attempt to leave agents outside was good and you need to watch eachothers backs, the unsub would have had you and you if you don't clear correctly." He points at the different agents.

"I am sorry what's an UNSUB?"

"UNSUBS means Unidentified subject of an investigation, suspects are often referred to it as such."

"What he said." The kid shots him a quick smile and then looks down again playing with the prop gun in his hand. "So try again, more carefully. And concentrate, pay attention to the details."

Morgan goes back up and they do better next time, it's all still pretty unsure but he wouldn't expect different so he talks it through with them step by step and let's them try again when they come back out "Alright everyone we walk through this together, you didn't pay attention to a lot of things but you will learn."

They walk together into the house and Morgan shows them what is important to pay attention to in the house. "Can you even reach that light switch Reid?" One of the students asks.

"Yes,its 4.9 feet above the ground." He answers and looks slightly annoyed.

"Guys attention" Morgan reminds them and continues walking them through and then let's them try again but when it again doesn't work because they miss an important detail he tells them off and sends them in again and again and eventually they start blaming Spencer for their misery simple because he doesn't talk back and is the youngest so Morgan stops them. "He did things wrong but not more than the rest of you,focus. This is going to be your last try."

"He can't even hold his gun right."

"Its not about the gun right now. Keep your flashlight at the right high and I am okay with it." He is about to send them in another time when he sees one of the girls touching Spencer to encourage him and he shrinks away letting out a whine and then turning away from the group. "Reid you okay?"

"Now that starts again,great."

"What starts again?" Morgan asks approaching Spencer.

"I don't know this guy freaks out over the weirdest things. How could he even get into the academy?"

Morgan steps around him facing him now. "Hey kid, you alright?" Spencer shakes his head and then moves his hand up to his head forgetting the gun so Morgan takes it out of it and puts it on the floor while Spencer hits his head with his fist.

"Can I do anything to help you?" The kid,that he has never met before doesn't stop and just stumbles around. "It's okay take your time." Morgan doesn't know what is wrong,but if he would name one thing he would guess that he is having a meltdown that people on autism spectrum can suffer from and he knows profiling with this less time and evidence often doesn't work but if he looks at how the kid acted he is pretty sure it's that. "Does any body of you know anything?" He asks the group.

"No, Sir."

"No we don't know him really he doesn't talk to anyone."

"Alright,you can grab your things, its would have been over in a few minutes anyway." He dismisses them and looks for signs to help Reid.

He is not as informed as he wishes to be right now and the agents that helped come out of the prop house but look clueless too and then Spencer bits out a word.

"Vest"

"What about it?"

"Off" He presses his fingers into his eyes. "Off. Vest off. Need the vest off." He yells and Morgan steps forward resolving the patches.

"I need to get this over your head."

"Vest"

"I am taking your vest off but you need to take your arms down." He doesn't seem to understand Morgan's words so he waits for a moment and then asks again and Spencer takes them down and Morgan can get rid of it and Spencer practically slumps down to the ground and needs a long moment but then calms down sniffing from time to time and playing with his watch and Morgan gives him some space getting some water and his stuff. "Is it okay if I sit down with you?"

Spencer nods but then anxiously rips his jacket and bag out of Morgan's hand.

"Do you need anything?" He gets ignored while Spencer struggles to get into his jacket. "It's okay,no need to stress this. You are safe here."

"Stupid"

"Here" Morgan gently helps him and then the man gets up from the ground hanging his bag around his neck. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for a few minutes in here? I can go out if that helps."

"I go"

"Okay,that's okay."

"Sorry" Spencer mutters and then storms out of the room.

More chapters on Ao3:

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #jason gideon #criminal minds fanfiction #penelope garcia #autistic spencer reid

10 notes · View notes

addictofsupernatural · 5 years

Text

The Road So Far (pt. 3)

Sweet Pea x reader

Summary: You and your brothers train a group of gang members the best you can in a short amount of time. Will it pay off?

Riverdale + Supernatural Crossover

Word Count: 2482

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2

After school you and your brothers waited in your motel for Sweet Pea to text you. "This is a bad idea." Dean stated.

"You don't know that." You argued.

"Oh, I do. We shouldn't involve other people in hunter's business."

"This isn't a normal town, Dean. This town is different."

"Different my ass. Don't get too attached. We'll be back on the road, heading to some other town that needs saving."

Your emotions got the better of you, and you opened your mouth to say something that you'd been keeping to yourself for a long time. "What's so wrong with being attached? What's so wrong with belonging to someplace? Why can't I belong anywhere?"

He fell silent. "I need some space." He mumbled before grabbing his keys and leaving.

You felt tears welling up. Emotions that you've been suppressing came bubbling to the surface. You turned to Sam. "I shouldn't have said that! I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha..." You trailed off, tears threatening to spill.

He pulled you in for a hug. "No, it's okay. You shouldn't have to apologize."

"Yes I do." You sniffed. "I'm a hunter. I shouldn't think like that."

"You don't have to be a hunter if you don't want to. We never gave you a choice."

"I do like being a hunter. I like being able to save people. But always being on the move. It's tiring, and I want someplace to get to always have. No matter what happens, I'll still have a home to go to. Like Bobby's, before everything happened."

"I get that." He offered you a smile. "I'll talk to Dean about it."

You shook your head. "I don't know Sam. Dean seems to shut down whatever I say."

Sam didn't know what to say. "You should take a quick shower. It'll make you feel better."

When you got out of the shower and dried your hair, you opened the bathroom door to see Dean. "Look kiddo, we need to talk–" he was cut off by the knocking on the door.

"I'll get it!" You said eagerly, not wanting to start that conversation.

It was Jughead and his dad. "Come with us." You all followed them to the Whyte Wyrm, where about thirty Serpents and Archie were inside. "These are who were open to the idea." Jughead explained.

You noticed that some of them were eyeing Archie. "You told gingy #1?"

"I can help." He said. "I want to help."

You shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Teens, you're with me. The rest of you are with Sam and Dean."

The ten teenagers followed you, while Sam and Dean split up the rest. You showed them how to load a gun, as well as turn the safety on and off. You then showed them how to fire, with targets being stapled to trees. "Okay guys, your turn. I'm trusting you with my guns, so don't be dumbasses. Please."

They were mostly bad. The best one was, surprisingly, Archie. Apparently this wasn't the first time he's dealt with a gun before. You looked back at Sweet Pea, who was barely hitting the target. You watched as he closed one eye and shot again.

"Y'know," you said as you walked up to him. "If you want to hit the target, you should try looking at it with both eyes. Maybe you'll see twice as good."

He looked at you, heat spreading across his face. You were smiling at him, not an amused smile but a gentle one. "It's not like it's just me."

"I know. The only one who seems decent is Archiekins."

Your smile faded as you saw the look of anger on his face. He looked down. "He's not as amazing as everybody makes him."

"Of course not." You brought your hand to his cheek so he could look at you. "He couldn't measure up to you, of course. He wouldn't tell it how it is. He wouldn't give me some of his stuff so that he would have to see me again. He wouldn't be so sweet even when I'm going to leave. You're my hero, remember?"

He looked at your lips before leaning towards you. Just before your lips were going to touch, Dean clasped both of your shoulders, slightly pushing you away. "You should move on teaching different weapons now."

Later on Sam and Dean were eating together while taking a break in teaching the others how to fight an army of werewolves. Dean looked over to you, who was eating and laughing together with Sweet Pea. "We need to break them apart." He stated.

"Dean, it's not like they're dating." Sam looked annoyed as he listened to his brother complain again about the two teenagers. "And either way she won't listen to you."

Dean thought for a moment. "No, but she might listen to someone else." He took out his phone and looked at a certain contact, sighing.

"Dean, no. There's no reason for Crowley to get into her business."

"It's for the case." Dean tried to urge.

He scoffed. "Yeah, if the case is killing Sweet Pea."

Dean ignored his brother and pressed the call button. Dean then proceeded to tell Crowley about the boy you were getting carelessly close to. After he was done talking, he heard silence. "Hello? Crowley, you there?"

"Hello boys." The brothers turned to see a familiar demon with a bag in his hand. "Where's the girl, I want to give her a gift."

"Damnit Crowley." Dean said. "How many times do I have have to tell you to stop spoiling her?"

"Oh, you big, lumbering piles of flannel, you need to learn that there's nothing wrong with a bit of pampering here and there." He then spotted you with Sweet Pea, Jughead and Archie. "Ah, here we are."

You were talking to your friends, but your voice died off as your attention was brought to the demon heading towards you. "Crowley?"

"Hello darling." You hopped off of the bench you were on with a big smile on your face. You gave him a hug, and he patted your head in response. "Here you are, love. Just a little something I feel you deserve."

It was a necklace with an expensive looking jewel attached to it. "I love it! So, how's hell?"

"The demons are dreadfully annoying, darling. I'm glad you gave me an excuse to get away from them for a bit."

"Demons?" Jughead said. "Are you a demon?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Not just any demon, the king! The king of hell!" He then took a step closer, showing his red eyes. "What's your name boy?"

"Crowley." You said in a warning tone.

Jughead backed up a bit, saying his name. He then looked at Archie. "And you?" Archie gave his name as well. Crowley then turned to the boy sitting next to you. "Ah, so you must be Sweet Pea."

"Crowley!" He snapped his head to you. "Stop. I don't know what Dean told you, but leave him alone." He continued to stare at you. "Please. For me. Your favorite human, remember?"

He looked back at Sweet Pea. "This isn't over."

He then walked away from a Sweet Pea was looked like he was two words away from shitting himself. "I'm so sorry, he shouldn't have done that to either one of you, and–"

"He won't kill us, right?" Jughead asked, still eyeing Crowley.

"No! I won't let him, I promise."

"What if he doesn't listen to you?" Sweet Pea quietly asked.

You reached out to hold his hand. "No, Sweets–"

Sweet Pea unconsciously backed up. He realized what he did from the hurt look on your face. "Y/n I'm sorry–"

"No, it's okay." You put on a weak smile. "I'm gonna go be alone for a bit." He tried to grab your wrist but you were quicker, and quickly walked away.

While Dean and Crowley were arguing with Sweet Pea, Jughead and Archie, blaming them for whatever reason you left, Sam slipped away to follow you. He found you sitting on a boulder by Sweet Water River, watching the rapid stream. "Hey tiny. You want to talk about it?"

"Why can't I be happy?" You quietly asked, eyes not leaving the river.

Sam hesitated. "You can–"

"No I can't. Dean shoots down anything related to stability, which is something that makes me feel at ease. I get scolded for making friends, who make me feel like I'm not some freak. Now the first outside person to accept all of me is getting threatened by the people in my life, even though he makes me happier than I've been in a long time. How come I don't deserve to be happy?"

This made Sam's chest tighten with sadness for you. They weren't giving you a choice, just like your dad did to them. They just wanted to be there to see you grow up, to protect you from the dangers of the world. Sam thought it would be better if he gave you more freedom, but that wasn't good enough.

He put an arm around your shoulder, and you rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peaceful silence. When you were ready to return you two found Sweet Pea running around, looking for you. He found you, and Sam decided to give you two some space.

"Y/n," he panted. "We need to talk. I'm so sorry–"

You shook your head and put your hands on his cheeks, silencing him. You then took off the dog tag you were wearing, bringing it out to him. "You shouldn't have to work so hard for someone like me. You deserve better than that."

He stared at the dog tag, and shook his head. "What if I want to work hard for someone like you? Maybe that's what you deserve."

He paused before taking the dog tag and putting it on. He then brought his pocket knife out and put it in your front flannel pocket. "Pea." You couldn't help the small smile forming.

"I really like that pocket knife, so I'll definitely be back for that." He smiled at you.

"Why me?"

"Because you've had it worse than any of us, but you still manage to show your pretty smile. You say what you think is important. With you, I'm not a person from the Southside. I'm just me." He then went down and kissed your cheek. "I want to take this slow to savor it. Is that okay with you?" Ghosting your hand over your cheek, you nodded, somewhat in a daze. He then took your hand, interlocking fingers. "You ready to go back?" You smiled and nodded.

Later on, people were relaxing at the Whyte Wyrm. You looked over to Crowley, who was talking to Jughead and Betty, answering their questions with annoyance. You then watched people play pool. You then turned to Sam. "Feel like making some money?"

"I bet I'll get more." He said, full of pep.

"You're on." You then saw someone finish up a game of pool, walking up to them. "Wow, that looks fun! I've never played before, but I bet I'd like it." You pretended to stumble a bit, fake giggling.

"I don't mind teaching ya, babe." This caught Sweet Pea's ear. He didn't see you drink anything, so why were you acting like this, as well as letting that man talk to you like that?

You bounced up and down, giggling. "Yay! You know what would make it even more fun? It we bet money on it! I get to learn how to play pool, and you could make some money!"

The man smirked you got yourself a deal. $80." He took out a stack of money, and you didn't too. Sweet Pea was caught off guard with that. How did you have so much money on you? You ended up winning fairly quickly.

"Yay! That was fun!" The man grumbled. "Aw, don't be like that. I bet it was beginners luck. How bout this, double or nothing?" So you played again and won. You put the money in your pocket, ignoring the man's curses. "Dude, a bet's a bet. I won, fair and square." You then went to Sam, confident. "$160. You?"

"$210."

"Damn." The two of you laughed, and Sweet Pea watched in awe of you Winchesters that you were all able to make money so easily.

You then looked over to Dean, who was with a woman. He then mentioned having a motel room, and with that the two of them left. Sam sighed. "Dean."

"Gross." You grumbled. "Sleeping in Baby it is."

"You could sleep at my place." Sweet Pea offered. You two stared at him. "I have a bed sofa, and a chair couch. It'll be fine."

Sam nodded his head. "That's very nice of you. Let's go then."

As the three of you were driving to Sweet Pea's trailer, you look out a chest from under the seats, and opened it. It had photographs, as well as jewelery. You put Crowley's necklace in there with ease. "I didn't know you were into that stuff."

You shook your head. "I'm not, but it's nice have I'm even getting gifts. It's the thought that counts."

Sweet Pea offered the bed to you, while Sam slept on the couch bed and Sweet Pea slept on the couch chair. You only problem was your nightmares. They happened mainly when you were alone at night, or some bad memories were brought up to the surface.

You shot up from your very realistic evil dream. You quietly went out of the room, and was about to wake up Sam when you looked over at Sweet Pea. He looked so gently, not to mention uncomfortable, so you gently shook him. "Sweets." You whispered.

He gave out a groan. "What's wrong?" He asked, groggily.

"I had a nightmare. Could you lay back down with me?" He hesitated. "Please? I feel more calm with you."

He got up, and remembered that you were only wearing one of his shirts, like he offered. You both laid down, and you snuggled into his chest as you tangled your limbs. He out one arm around you as the second one was in your hair as he buried his face in it. You both then dozed off.

When Sam woke up, he didn't see Sweet Pea on the sofa chair. He went into his bedroom, and saw the two of you snuggled up together. He had noticed that Sweet Pea was out of the covers while you were under them. He smiled. Sweet Pea didn't want Sam to get mad, so he untangled himself from you while you were sleeping, but stayed with you.

Sam loudly knocked on the door, waking both of you up. He stood there as you both began to stir awake. As soon as Sweet Pea realized that your big brother was standing there, he immediately jumped away from you. "It's not what it looks like."

Sam nodded. "She gets nightmares and doesn't like being alone. I get it." You sat up with a lazy smile, causing Sweet Pea to smile. "C'mon. Today's our last day of training."

-------

Tag List:

@sgarrett49 @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @mi-linera @buchare5t @rogue-of-sound

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea fic #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea x you #sweet pea #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #riverdale #supernatural au #sister!winchester #riverdale supernatural #riverdale supernatural crossover

115 notes · View notes

dominaecaede · 6 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter 6 results: 69% decided that Dabi is trustworthy

〘 twitter 〙

The following story will have themes such as blood, gore, situations that may cause anxiety and major character death. If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not proceed.

Chapter 7: Woe To The Clueless

Midoriya took in Uraraka's words. He can understand that she'd be paranoid about him. The guy was a former villain, after all. Still, he wanted to keep faith and remembered all he's helped them out with so far. He rested a hand on her shoulder and gave his friend a reassuring look.

"I see what you mean," Midoriya began. "But he's helped us so much, and I'd want to believe that there are still good people that exist in this situation. I decided to put my trust into him, you know?"

Uraraka nodded. She smiled, but something still felt off about him in her opinion. Still, she decided to trust Midoriya's word. "Yeah... Maybe you're right. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry!" He chuckled. "Paranoia is healthy when you're in an apocalypse!"

The two chuckled and continued to walk, trailing behind as Dabi turned his head to each alleyway they passed. They came across one or two of those creatures but it was nothing he couldn't handle. It's been this long, yet they had no idea what they were.

"What do we even call these things?" Kirishima raised a brow, poking his foot at one of their bodies that Dabi shot down.

"Hell if I know," Bakugou muttered. "Who cares? They're just annoying demons."

"Akuma," Shouto spoke up. "That's what we'll call them."

The group looked at each other but didn't complain. It was probably easier to give them a nickname rather than leaving them, well, nameless. No one spoke after that as they kept walking until they reached an alley way covered in graffiti. Dabi looked down the path and his eyes blinked with observation.

"This way," he spoke while he walked.

They followed him down the path and found themselves traveling down cement steps into what seemed like an underground passage. Bakugou and Shouto looked at each other with confusion but didn't resist. Midoriya looked around, noticing that their path was growing darker and darker the deeper they walked. Their footsteps grew louder and echoed down the tunnel, and he sometimes felt like he stepped on something but didn't bother to look. The lack of light would soon end when they stopped at a metal door. It looked a little rusted but still hard to penetrate through.

"This is it," Dabi spoke up again.

Kirishima gripped the weapon he was still holding. When Dabi opened the door, the smell of rotting flesh greeted them like a blow of air. The group was gagging and coughing but they continued on, as Dabi shut the door. When everyone got ahold of themselves, they began trying to see where they were. It was pitch black in there.

"How are we supposed to see?" Shouto wheezed out. The smell was unbearable.

All of the sudden, Dabi hushed the group. Everyone halted and turned in the way they heard the man from.

"Do... Do you hear that?" Kirishima whispered.

The group didn't respond. There waa a clicking noise and it was getting louder. The group hovered together and gripped their weapons while Dabi walked as slowly as possible trying to find the light switch. A flashlight would've been much more useful, as Midoriya would think. He regrets putting it down back in the hospital room. The clicking noise seemed to be coming from multiple directions and what sounded like tiny rapid footsteps were circling around their proximity. It sounded like some sort of giant bug, and that kind of thought already sent shivers down Uraraka's spine.

"Found it!" Dabi breathed, although too loud for comfort.

When the light switch was turned on, the source of the clicking sound was brought to light (quite literally). It was an akuma but different. It was like it was mutated; it crawled on the floor and it's body appeared as if it were broken and forced together again, deformed until it was close to the appearance of a grasshopper. It's mouth was split open and beared its sharp teeth with it's hands deformed into the shape of claws. It was also bleeding from where it's eyes were supposed to be. It moved around on the floor fast like a cockroach, too. However, Midoriya was beginning to wonder why it's appearance looked so familiar. It made it's famous screeching noise and it made Uraraka cover her ears.

"W-WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" Bakugou screamed.

Shouto ran to the side and his behind what used to be a bar stool. "Shit! Our weapons are only good for up close combat! We'll get killed!"

"Here!" Dabi shouted and tossed them some guns. He was behind one of the tall safes located in front of a window not too far from the metal door. Shouto caught the handgun flying in his direction and checked to see if it was loaded. He clicked his tongue.

"Just five bullets?!" He shouted, the screeching getting louder. When it charged for Shouto, he immediately dodged it's attack and ran to another safe spot. "What am I gonna do if I run out?!"

"Shoot wisely, then!" Was all Dabi answered.

Midoriya looked at the Caliber .45 in his hand. He's never held a gun before, much less used one. There was never a reason to. He began thinking that maybe this would be like those shooting games him and Bakugou used to play when they were kids. He kept that in mind as he took a deep breath and peeked over his cover. He began shooting towards it's head, gritting his teeth and jolting with each bullet he shot. He knew he wasn't used to this, and he knew his shots were sloppy, but when he saw that his bullets were hitting it he felt a little proud. He ducked down again to catch his breath, trying to suppress the shivering caused by his fear. The akuma was clearly getting pissed. It's screeched again and charged at Dabi, who switched his simple revolver to a Glock 21. "Just how many guns did the villains have?!" Midoriya thought.

Bakugou was firing the same kind of gun Dabi had and, if he was honest with himself, trying to shake off the fear that was creeping up his spine. Uraraka was in the under the same cover as Bakugou, but she looked at the weapon she had with uncertainty. Bakugou noticed she wasn't firing and was quickly giving her glances.

"Why aren't you shooting, round face?!"

Uraraka showed him her weapon. "I-I don't know how to use this!"

Bakugou saw that Uraraka had a shotgun in her hand and his eyes lit up. He held out his hand. "Give that to me, use this," he prompted her to switch weapons. She nodded and took ahold of the Glock 21 and began firing to her best ability while giving small squeaks of discomfort.

The blonde took in that same memory as Midoriya and got a better hold on it. He began shooting at the akuma but couldn't help but jump back at how heavy the blows were. Instead of stopping, he only began chuckling. "Oh hell yeah, time to die you piece of shit!!"

Kirishima was handling a revolver as well but when he heard the gunshots of the shotgun Bakugou was using, he had an expression of disbelief. "A shotgun?! How the hell did you get a shotgun, Bakugou?!"

"No time to banter!" Shouto shouted. "It's almost dead! Keep firing!"

And near death, it was. The akuma didn't know which direction to face because it was being shot at from multiple angles. It's fast movements slowed down to a maximum and it began making pained noises. With one final shot to the head, it's split jaw began to close as it's body finally fell limp. Midoriya let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and put a hand to his chest.

"Is... Is it dead...?" Uraraka asked softly.

Bakugou slowly stood up and made his way to the body as if trying not to wake a baby. He kicked it at first, then fired a shot to it's torso. "Yep. It's dead."

Kirishima scoffed. "Okay, just because you get a cool weapon doesn't mean you can keep firing it."

Bakugou smirked. "Hah. Jealous?"

As the two spiked heads bickered, Midoriya approached the body slowly. He leaned down and began examining it. There was something about this akuma that was so familiar and he was trying to figure out why. And upon finding the answer, he let out a harsh gasp.

"That light blue hair...," Midoriya muttered. "This... This was Shigaraki Tomura..."

Uraraka furrowed her brows. "What? H-How?"

"Did no one tell you that these things were once people?" Dabi stepped in and turned the body's face with his foot to where he could see it. "Still... How he got mutated like this I'll never know..."

"H-Hold on...," The brunette stuttered. "Th-They were once people? We just killed someone?"

"Once people, round face," Bakugou replied. "And don't forget, he used to be the leader of this shithole. What goes around comes around."

Midoriya then began wondering where the rest of the villains were. He began looking around, and he soon found a trail of tried blood. He followed it and he found something so gruesome that it made him fall backwards. Shouto ran up to him and helped him up.

"What is it, Midoriya?"

The greenette didn't respond, only shakily pointed to the direction. Shouto followed his finger and gasped. Piles of bodies were found in the corner that weren't an akuma's at all. They were also headless, and some were missing limbs that were found in another location but only in bloody bones. Midoriya recognized the schoolgirl uniform on one of the bodies and immediately knew that it was the body of Himiko Toga. There were also flies around the bodies. It seems this was the source of the smell.

"Oh my god...," Uraraka shivered. "They weren't even turned. W-Was Tomura eating them or something...?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Dabi answered. "Here."

The group turned around and they were all tossed some clothes. They were all black and camoflauge colored. Midoriya blinked and looked up at Dabi, who was putting some black boots on the counter.

"These were the clothes we used to infiltrate certain buildings for information," Dabi explained. "As you can see by the colors, we didn't exactly just walk in those buildings through the front door."

Shouto held up the jacket he was holding, which was leather but light. "I see."

When the group was finished changing, they didn't bother to keep their old uniforms. They left them on the ground and walked over back to Dabi, who was showing them a cabinet.

"Load up your ammo. Take what you can inside the bags and hurry up. I can't stand this stench."

As the group did so, Uraraka's discomfort of Dabi never faded. Still, she remembered Midoriya's words. She also took in the fact that he helped kill "Shigaraki" and gave them new equipment. She just can't shake off this feeling. The clothes given to her fit pretty well, to her surprise. The brunette came to the conclusion that these clothes must've belonged to Toga. Toga... Right. The sight of her mutilated body would haunt her dreams most likely forever. She shut her eyes tightly as she helped load the two duffle bags of weapons and they were all on their way.

The group began heading their way towards the pharmacy and felt much more confident now that they have a better chance of defending themselves. While some of the group carried the same firearms as they did in their fight, some were changed. Shouto was now carrying a sniper rifle along with some grenades loaded inside one of his pockets and his father's hunting knife in another. Midoriya was carrying two .45's instead of just one, and Uraraka was carrying a revolver. Of course Bakugou kept the shotgun -- it made him feel like a badass. Kirishima also kept his weapons but also had managed to carry a machete. He also tied his hair back since there was no use trying to keep his hair up.

When they arrived to the pharmacy, they found a note on the door. It read "We're at the abandoned police station down the block" signed Yaomomo. And so, they began making their way there. When they approached the area, Midoriya was relieved that everyone made it safely. He remembered this place being locked up as tight as a bank safe even before this happened. He knew the akuma didn't get in. They gave their classmates the duffle bags full of weapons and luckily there was enough for each to have something. Kirishima turned to face the group with a sad but confident face.

"I'm going to stay here," the redhead spoke up. The group blinked at him in question. "They need help here, and the more help they have, the better."

"To hell with that, shitty hair. The more help we have, the better. They're fine here!" Bakugou shouted.

However, Kirishima smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "The more we have in the group, the bigger target we'll have on our backs. Trust me bro, it's better if I stay here."

"He's got a point," Dabi nodded.

Kirishima gave Bakugou a firm hug before releasing him. "You'll be fine!"

The blonde looked at him with a troubled expression before gritting his teeth and turning his back to walk. "Whatever."

The group bid him and the classmates farewell before beginning to make their way to Clearnox Industries. Shouto began rubbing the back of his neck. "Any idea where this place is?"

Midoriya tapped his chin. "The last time I recall, the building was on the far side of the city. Passed the city hall. I remember reading an article on Google about it online."

Shouto nodded. "And the city hall is passed the hill going towards UA..."

"I was really hoping not to look at that place again...," Uraraka sighed.

It seemed like such a far walk. Hours on their feet and shooting akuma dead along the way. Well, lesser akuma. After facing the mutated Shigaraki, the group was relieved to see a "normal" one. When they passed UA, a rush of sadness fell onto Midoriya. The vision of the broken windows, blood stains and burnt patches broke his heart. His dream of becoming a hero ceased to exist the moment all this occurred. Right there, in the beginning. Uraraka rubbed his back with sympathy and Midoriya smiled at her. She felt the same way.

They eventually passed city hall and more of the akuma seemed to cross their path. There were hoards of them, nearly impossible to shoot them all down, so they stayed close to the building across the street as to not attract their attention.

Then, what seemed like forever, they finally reached Clearnox. The building was so huge that it looked distant and untouchable. There was no electricity around the front yard, so no one knew what was to come. From all the videogames he's played, Bakugou knew the front door would be a trap. Laugh they might, but his memories of gaming saved him from that fight and dammit, he was proud of it.

"There has to be another way in," the blonde observed. "Bet your asses that there's an entrance in the back."

"Maybe...," Midoriya furrowed his brows. "But this building is so big. I'm not even sure there's such thing as a back door."

"No," Dabi spoke up from the side of the building. "But there's a trap door over here that might get us inside."

The group crept over and helped him lift up the rusted door, surprised that it wasn't locked. It led to a metal stairway going downwards. Shouto felt discomfort.

"Oh, I hate this," he muttered.

They followed the staircase down and got their weapons ready for precaution. The stairs eventually stopped at a hallway with a series of doors on either side of the walls. If they didn't know where they were right now, they'd think that they were inside a prison or something. Midoriya opened one of the doors and found nothing useful, his actions prompting the rest of the group to do the same. Shouto found a map of the building and Uraraka sighed in relief. At least they wouldn't get lost.

The doors to an elevator crossed their paths. Midoriya clicked his tongue as he looked at the map, realizing that they had no clue where their teachers were being held. He does get an idea but it would be risky checking.

"We could try checking the lab," he says as he keeps his eyes on the map. "The laboratory is in section E. The fifth floor."

Dabi nodded and punched the button to go to the lower level. When they got out of the elevator, they were greeted by more akuma lurking around. The group immediately gets to a cover and puts a hand over their mouth to not make any noise. They should've known this, but Bakugou hears something else. He hears talking. Two males, both sounding tired. He tried to listen and figure out what they were saying.

"What do you think they're gonna do to us?" One of them asked.

"I don't know..," the other replied. "They landed a pretty good blow on me. I just hope the students are okay..."

"....! That voice...!" Midoriya breathes and slowly looks up. He sees Aizawa and All Might bound, bleeding out and stuck in cages. "They're here!"

"We can't get them with all these akuma around, though...," Shouto clicked his tongue.

Bakugou grit his teeth. "Then we shoot them dead! There's no other way!"

"That's a stupid idea," Shouto snapped quietly. "You'll alert the other akuma on the floor. We have to do this quietly."

How should they approach this?

• shoot them all down?

• or move silently?

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tomorrow never comes #dabi bnha #todoroki shouto #midoroya izuku #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #uraraka ochako #bnha apocalypse au #bnha #mha #my au

105 notes · View notes

countless-dreamsss · 5 years

Text

Partners For Life: The Past

Summary: So I wrote this bc there was a question on my Quiz in my criminal justice class and what were the odds that their names were going to be Harry and Joey? Don't believe me?

Anyways, this is the first chapter of this story, meaning Harry and Joe are both in their early twenties. There's no Flash, there's no Iris, there's no Eobard, this is literally all mine.

Warnings:Mild profanity

Primary pair: Harry Wells x Joe West

Canon/Head:Headcanon

*if you see any mistakes please let me know*

Harry threw his cigarette to the ground, crushing under the black sole of his boot as his tongue picked up the taste of freshly burnt tobacco from his tongue. He let out a heavy sigh. He leaned his head back against the brick wall behind him.

“You’re late.” He said, lifting his sleeve and looking down to his watch as a dark shadow jumped down onto the dumpster, a metallic sound echoed through the alley.

“It’s not really easy to sneak out of the house when your parents want to know what you’re doing every second of the day.” Joe said, jumping down and landing gracefully onto the wet asphalt.

“Well then, I’m glad I’m important.” Harry smirked. Joe wiped his hands off as he approached the other male. “How was dinner?” He asked, his blue eyes meeting Joe’s.

“Would’ve been better if you came.” Joe said with a smile.

“That’s what she said.” Harry joked. Joe shook his head at the stupid joke before removing the bag he had on his back. “I brought you some.” He said, taking out a container filled with lasagna.

“Awh, you do care.” Harry said. Joe rolled his eyes. He waved his hand. “Hold onto it for now, please."

“What did you make this time?” Joe asked, putting the food back into the bag.

“Let’s go to our spot, and we’ll discuss it there, but I think you’ll like it.” Harry smiled. He placed an arm around Joe as they walked over to his truck.

“Harry, how do you have such an expensive car?” Joe asked curiously as they both got into the vehicle. Harry simply shrugged.

“I have my ways of acquiring the things I need.” Harry responded.

The drive to their ‘spot’ was fairly long, being that it was across the city. Harry had an arm out the window, another cigarette in his hand. Joe was playing with the radio until he found a station that fit his mood.

“How are your parents?” Joe asked.

“Still alive.” Harry said. “Harry, I don’t understand why you don’t ju-”

��Joe, we’re not talking about this agai-"

“They still love you.”

“No.” Harry said.

"I love you." Joe said, although it sounded more like a question. The smile that on Harry's face made Joe feel at ease. To himself, Joe tried to guess the infinite possibilities of what Harry had in store. What could he possibly be hiding back at the place that Harry couldn't simply tell him on the way in the car. Joe chewed on his bottom lip as his hand reached for Harry's. "It'll be okay." Joe said. "I'm sure it will be." A chuckle that sounded more like a scoff left Harry's lips.

"We'll see." Harry said. Joe's head turned to the window, watching all the people and buildings as they drove by.

"I love you too." He said.

Their hangout place was an abandoned building in the middle of the city. At 10 stories high, an open area with small offices and bathrooms scattered about every level this building was perfect for them. Harry, being very tech savvy and Joe with his creative ideas cleared out one of the higher floors of the building and did as they pleased with it. It was kind of like a studio apartment, but with many rooms. The kitchen was fully operable, the both of them had installed a dryer and washing machine in the bathroom. Harry had everything he needed here. He had no reason to go home.

"Here.” Harry said, tossing over a device towards Joe. Quick with his hands, Joe caught it right before it could slip through his fingers.

"What’s this?” Joe asked, looking down at it.

“That, my good sir, is an earbud.” Harry said, putting one of his own into his own ear. “Put it in.” He said. Joe did as told as he put the food he had brought into the microwave for Harry. “Can you hear me?” He asked.

“Yeah, crystal clear.” Joe said, amazed by how tiny the earbud was. “How did you-”

“Not important.” Harry said as he took a seat at his desk.

“What are we going to do with these?” Joe asked, walking over to Harry. Joe placed his hands on the older male’s shoulders and squeezed them as he caught a glimpse at the screen in front of them.

“We are going to commit what police call theft .” Harry said with a grin. He took off his glasses and chewed on the end of one of his temples. “I have it all planned out, and if I’m quite certain, it’s not really a robbery, just petty theft.” He corrected himself.

“We?” Joe asked. “You know my father is a cop.” He reminded Harry. Harry nodded, his devilish grin growing wider.

“I’m well aware of your father’s occupation.” Harry responded. Joe shook his head, letting out a sigh of disapproval. “And since when has that ever stopped you before? This isn’t our first time.” He said.

“I’m assuming these,” Joe said, holding the earpiece in his hand, “are going to help us communicate.” Joe said. Harry nodded.

“Exactly. I will be in your ear, and at the same time I will be the one snatching what we need while you keep the store clerk occupied.” Harry said.

“That’s larceny, Harry.” He put an emphasis on his partner’s name.

“That’s not the point, Joe.” Harry copied Joe's tone before turning his chair around. “We’re going to do this,” he said standing up, putting a hand on Joe’s face, “and you’re going to help me.” Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on Joe’s lips before walking over to the beeping microwave.

“Harry, how exactly are we going to pull this off?” Joe asked. His eyes scanned the computer screen that was full of blueprints of the building and Harry’s notes. “What if we get caught?”

“I have it all under control, Joe. There’s nothing to worry about.” He said.

“No." Joe shook his head. "What if we get caught?" Joe repeated, turning to catch a glimpse of Harry with a mouthful of lasagna in his mouth.

“We won’t.” Harry managed to say as he chewed, “if we do,” he swallowed before running his tongue over his lips, “we shoot.”

“We shoot?” Joe’s eyes widened. “No the hell we’re not."

"Uhm, yes the fuck we are." Harry nodded.

"Har-"

"Listen," Harry said, placing the food down on the desk once he had stepped closer to Joe. "I'm well aware that your father is a cop, but I have this under control. I promise. I just need you to trust me on this." The two looked into each other's eyes. Harry saw fear while Joe saw a sense of uncertainty. The younger male sighed before running a thumb across the corner of Harry's lips.

"No killing." Joe said. Harry put his hands on his hips as he knew those words were going to come out of his mouth. "No weapons either." He said, and Harry's head shot up.

"That's not safe at all." Harry responded. “If we get caught-"

“You said we wouldn’t.”

“Joseph!” Harry took in a deep breath before exhaling. “Fine. Fine, no weapons.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Harry pulled Joe into his arms. The two held each other tight. Joe sighed before resting his forehead on Harry’s. “It’s going to be okay.” Harry kissed the side of Joe’s head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Just hours before leaving, Harry explained his plan thoroughly to Joe, multiple times. Joe had easily picked up everything that Harry had put down. Repeatedly, he went step by step. He only had one concern: the weapons. Harry having a stash as big as he did for a 21 year-old, it was obvious to Joe where all of Harry’s money was going. Aside from going through their plan, Harry had also made Joe memorize the layout of the convenience store.

“I’m going to have the truck out, at pump number fou-” Harry stared at Joe who was staring at Harry’s wall of weapons. He rolled his eyes before throwing a pencil at the younger male.“Joe-”

“Babe, I heard you the first time you said it. I heard it the fifth time you said it, and now I’m hearing it again.” He responded. “How about you and I go there together, hm?” He recommended. “That way, I’ll have a feel of the store, and you can get a better idea of what you need.” Joe said.

“We don’t need to go there, Joe. We’ve been there hundreds of times. If you know it, then explain it to me.” Harry said. Joe groaned as he stood up and walked over to Harry’s planning board.

“So, I’m going to walk in when it seems the most empty, correct?” Joe asked. Harry nodded. “Then, I’m gonna ask where the bathroom is, once I'm there, I’m gonna clog the toilets and bring him in. That gives us at least 2 minutes for you to get what we need and leave.” Joe said.

“And..?” Harry asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

“And what?”

“Precautions, you have to talk about precautions.” Harry said.

“Fine. We both have to be wearing our gloves at all times. Can’t leave any footprints behind, meaning no dirty shoes, uhm...I have to stall the clerk as long as possible to keep him away from the cash register, and no guns.” Joe said, mumbling the last bit of information.

“What was the last part?” Harry asked.

“Keep clerk from the register.” Joe lied. “Oh also- if they corner us, split up and meet back up at the old flour mill on the edge of town.

“Alright.” Harry nodded. Joe clicked his tongue against his teeth before returning to his seat.

“How exactly are you going to break into the register?” Joe asked. Harry walked over to his desk before throwing a makeshift key into Joe’s lap.

“With that.” Harry said. “This key, isn’t like other keys. The front of the key is made of what people call, memory metal, when heated, it’ll change shape, but once back in the right temperature it’ll be back to it’s normal form.” Harry explained. “I’m going to torch it for long enough that it’s malleable, but not melting. Once the consistency is where I want it. I’m going to put it in this,” he said as he held up a tiny tin can that was the size of a tic tac box. Joe held his hand out, returning the key to Harry who placed it into the box and back on his desk. “It should, fit right in, take the shape of the lock and then unlock the register.” He said.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Joe asked, his leg shaking.

“I’ll just break open the cash register. I’ll have my backpack with me.” Harry assured him, knowing his backpack literally had anything you could ever possibly need inside of it. Joe nodded silently. Harry squatted down in front of Joe and put his hands on his shoulders. “Look at me.”

“Yes, Harry?”

“It’s going to be okay.” He said.

“Something just feel off.” Joe responded. Harry handed Joe keys to the truck.

“Don’t worry. I already covered our license plates. Go start up the car, I just have to grab a few things and I’ll be down soon, alright? You go on your motorcycle, we’ll meet up there.” Harry watched as Joe grabbed his bag and his helmet before leaving the office floor. He hung his head as he let out a sigh before standing up. Harry walked over to his desk and took the M9 from his desk drawer and tucked it under his shirt against his back. To accompany the pistol, he placed two sets of magazines inside his jacket then grabbed the key, a mask and headed downstairs.

Joe had taken his motorcycle, whereas Harry took a different vehicle, a much older model sedan. They met up a couple of blocks down before deciding to go to the store. Joe kept his helmet on until he had entered the Harry’s run-down car.

“What are you-” Joe asked as he saw a flame torch. He sighed, before remembering. “The key?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have the earpiece in?” Harry asked looking over to Joe.

“I do.” Joe turned his head to the side and tapped on it gently with his finger. He let out a sigh before turning towards Harry. “So, do you really think this is going to work?” Joe asked, tucking the helmet in his side.

“Of course,” Harry said staring at the flames, “why wouldn’t it?”

“I’m telling you, Harry. Something feels off.”

“Joe, since we were in high school, we have done this what- 37 times? It’s been 3 years. How is this any different than the time from before?” Harry asked. Joe’s attention would switch back and forth between Harry and the flame. His head tilted a little, watching as the older was so captivated by it. Once he saw a grin pull at Harry’s lips, he knew he was caught. “Stop staring.” Harry said. Joe shook his head as he laughed. “I can’t help it, you look so concentrated.”

“I’m not trying to burn my fingers.”

“You’ve never worried about getting hurt before.”

“Burns and cuts are two different types of pain, Joe. There’s a reason why God made hell with fire, not with razor blades and lemon juice.” Harry said. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but kept quiet. “Go to the gas station, I’ll follow soon.”

“See you there.” Joe put his helmet back on before hopping on to his bike and driving away.

Once entering the gas station, Joe had simply lifted the visor of his helmet and nothing more. He glanced around the store before walking up to the checkout counter. He eyed down the cashier, who couldn’t be older than 25. Name, Martin. Not much shorter than Joe, but his build was rather lean. Martin’s hazel eyes greeted Joe’s as his lips were forced into a smile.

“Hey, is there anything I can help you with?” He asked. Martin’s attention had quickly shifted over to the helmet and the rest of Joe’s attire. “Motorcycle? Seems like a good night to drive one. Mine is actually out back. ” He said as he leaned forward onto the counter, using his elbows for support.

“This kid talks too much.” Harry said into Joe’s ear.

“It is actually.” Joe nodded, returning the kind tone before patting on his helmet to ignore Harry. “Not too bad to feel the summer night breeze.” He said, holding onto the straps of his backpack.

“I just might after closing shop.” Martin responded. “It’s never too late for a nice long drive.”

“Joseph,” Harry said into his ear, “get your ass into that bathroom right now.” Joe ignored him. “We can’t risk anyone else approaching the store, Joe.”

“You should. It’s a great way to clear your head after a long day.” Joe said, smiling behind the helmet, but that smiley quickly changed into a pout when he realized he would be the reason for that long ride.

“I swear to God, Joe, if you mess this up.” Harry huffed.

“Yup, fifteen hours.” Martin nodded, his forced smile had grown rather soft.

“Joe, are you really making conversation with the boy whose running the store we’re about to rob?” Harry sighed. “Hurry up and ask for the bathroom.” Harry’s jealousy could be felt from where Joe was standing. Joe let out a slight scoff, rolling his eyes under the helmet.

“Uhm,” Joe said, remembering the task at hand, “can I use the bathroom?” He asked.

“Sure,” Martin said. “In the far left corner.”

“Thanks.” Joe said.

“Thanks.” Harry mocked. Joe let out a heavy sigh as he followed the instructions to the bathroom. Martin watched as Joe disappeared behind the white door. “Do you have the tools?” Harry asked.

“You know I do.” Joe said, quickly taking off his backpack and getting to work. Instead of clogging the toilet Joe simply lied saying there was a major leak. Harry burned the key for a little longer as he was parked outside the store. His eyes peered through the glass, seeing what was going on inside. He watched as Joe brought Martin into the bathroom.

“Babe, I need you to keep him occupied.” Harry said as he placed the key into the tin can, put on his mask, and exited the car. Harry had taken this extra time to fill up fuel in both of their vehicles. He also, drenched a trail from one pump to the next, just in case things got hasty.

“Already taken care of.” Joe grumbled as he held Martin’s unconscious body in his arms.

“Where is he?” Harry asked as he entered the store, his breathing becoming heavier because of the mask. His eyes rolled at the sound of the bell that rang whenever someone stepped in. Harry was quick to make his way to the safe behind the register. Harry could hear some rustling and grunts on Joe’s end, then he heard a loud thud. “Joe?”

“Unconscious.” Joe said as he stared down at Martin’s body. He picked him up and sat him down into a stall. Joe had made sure that Martin was in fact completely unconscious before exiting the bathroom and walking around the store. Joe took whatever looked appetizing to him and stuffed it in his backpack.

“There we go.” Harry said as he inserted his key into the cash register. His ocean eyes grinned happily at the cash in front of him, and he wasted no time in retrieving it. Once the register was empty, Harry had turned his attention to the safe. He used a decoder to figure out the code for the safe. He smiled as the safe practically invited Harry’s desperate hands into the safe. He stuffed all he could into his bag before closing it up. And just as Joe was going to open up a bag of chips, he saw a couple of police cars pull up to the front of the store.

“Fuck.” Joe quickly put back the bag of chips and ran for the bathroom. “Harry, we’re in trouble.”

“Why what’s the problem, Joe?”

“T-There’s…” Joe stammered.

“There’s what?”

“There’s cops outside.”

“Joseph, if you’re fucking with me, I swear to Go-” The sound of the door opening cut him off. Harry could hear the metal cuffs hit against their belts. “How many?” He asked. Joe had switched the light off in the bathroom before pushing the door slowly, his eyes scanning the store. “Usually there’s 2 a car.”

“I didn’t fucking ask for an estimate. I asked how many.” Harry scolded as he inched closer to the end of the register.

“There’s 4, okay?” Joe watched as each one walked by. “I think I know them.”

“Names?” Harry asked.

“U-Uhm...Lee, Robinson, Michaels, and-” Joe’s heart dropped when he saw the last officer. “Dad…”

“Dad?” Harry grumbled and rolled his eyes. “That’s fucking great.”

“Yoohoo…” Officer Michaels said. “Anyone here?” He asked. The other three began to walk around, see if anything was out of the ordinary.

“You think they forgot to close shop?” Officer West asked, looking in the direction of the bathroom. Joe’s eyes went wide immediately.

“Oh shit. Oh fuck, H, we gotta go. We gotta go. We have to fucking-” Joe started to panic. "I think one of them saw me.” Joe immediately closed the door, he wasn’t going to risk getting caught by his father. His erratic breathing fogged up the helmet, forcing him to lift his visor. Harry listened to his hysterical partner as he tried to find the quickest and quietest way to get out of the store. With his back against the register, he used the glass walls of the store as his eyes. The police officers roamed the aisles in a pattern, gathering their desired carbs and fats for the night like sharks seeking for prey as they waited for the proper help.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Officer Lee said as they stood outside of the bathroom door. Joe felt as if he was as good as dead.

“Joe.” Harry warned.

“I f-fucking heard!” He said as he stuffed himself into the same stall as Martin. Hearing the footsteps come closer to the door, Joe was not taking any chances. He had picked up Martin’s body and cradled him in his arms as he squatted upon the toilet. He kept a hand over Martin’s mouth as if it were his breathing that wasn’t meant to be heard. He was agitated by the way Officer Lee had taken his precious time around the bathroom. Joe’s jaw clenched when the lights were switched on.

“It’ll be okay, just stay quiet.” Harry said, his eyes continuing to follow the officers around. Harry slowly reached for his gun as he watched the one officer enter the bathroom. Joe took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut like he was in a bad dream. Successfully retrieving the gun from his belt, Harry had it cocked and ready to shoot, he just needed the perfect moment of when. “You might hear a loud bang, Joe.” Harry whispered, “don’t yell.” He said, aiming the barrel of the pistol at the reflection of one of the officers.

“Screw this,” Officer West shook his head in irritation, “I’ll just leave a $20 and we’ll go.” He said, pulling out his wallet. Meanwhile, Joe was eager to gasp for air the moment he heard the door close behind Lee.

“What are you talking about, Harry?” Joe asked.

“We done here, West?” Officer Michaels managed to ask passed the two twinkies inside of his mouth.

“Michaels,” West sighed. “What the hell did I just say? Get your shit and let’s go.” He said. Harry was eager for their presence to be gone. Harry pushed himself against the counter as he heard Joe’s father step towards his direction. He heard him put place the bill down then walk away. This was perfect. Harry didn’t have to shoot his gun, and there wouldn’t have to be any interaction with the cops, right?

“Hey, about those two vehicles outside? Who do you think they belong to?” Officer Robinson asked.

“We’ll just run them in the cars.” West said. “Not an issue.” Both vehicles being under Harry parents’ name, he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Get ready to run.” Harry whispered.

“Run? Are you fucking crazy?” Joe asked as he gently put down Martin.

“Keep your fucking helmet on and listen to me.” He said. Harry waited until all four officers were outside the shop.

“Slowly come out the bathroom, Joe.” Harry said. He secured his hand around the duffel and tightened the straps around them. Joe obeyed without a second thought. He crouched as he exited the bathroom, making his way over to Harry. “Listen, we got to be fast when we do this, okay?” Harry said.

“Harry, what’s in your hand?” Joe asked, staring at the pistol.

“Joe-”

“We said no guns.” He said, his eyes still fixated on the pistol.

“Joseph! We don’t have time. They’re going to try to search our plates. We have to go.”

“Harry, we said no guns.” Joe repeated.

“We’ll talk about it later, babe.” Harry said. “Please, Joe?” He begged. Joe looked between Harry and the pistol.”

“We said no guns.” Joe repeated once again.

“Fuck this.” Harry said. He grabbed Joe’s arm before he aimed at the windows and shot both of them. Harry moved fast, regardless of having to drag Joe over to his bike. The cops, already in their vehicles were taken by surprise at the sound of the gun shots, not to mention the two bodies that darted out of the building. Joe was the first to jump onto his bike and drive off whereas Harry threw the bag of money into the car. All four officers got out of their cars, their weapons drawn in Harry’s direction.

“Drop the weapon, and come out with your hands up.” Officer Lee shouted.

“Such a cliche line.” Harry scoffed. He shot at one of their tires, inflating it instantly, but with the one shot to them, four came right back at him. One piercing through the skin of his upper left arm.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled as he hid behind the gas pump next to his car. He bit his lip

“Harry, what happened?” Joe asked, listening to the commotion. “Get in the fucking car and drive.”

“I know what I’m doing." Harry said. He clenched his jaw and took a quick look at his arm before over to the cops.

“Don’t do something you might regret, son.” Officer West called out.

“Too late.” Harry said. “I’d suggest you all leave.” He said before removing the nozzle and spraying the gasoline God knows where. The moment the officers saw him grab a hold of the pump they all retreated to the one operable car they had left. Harry rushed into his car and shot at the trail that he made earlier. Both cars left the store in time before the flames reached the gas pumps, causing both to be set up in flames. The tires of his vehicle screeched as he came to a quick stop, catching sight of the fire with his own eyes.

“Harry!” Joe yelled. “What did you do?”

“I took care of it.”

“Is anyone-”

“N-No. No one is hurt.”

“What about the kid inside?” Joe asked.

“You’re really concerned about the fuc-...I’ll go back later.” Harry said as he tried to outrun the cops.

“No. I will.”

“Are you mad? You won’t be able to get-”

“I’m sure there’s a back door.”

“Joe, we’ll get the kid later. For now we have to-”

“No, Harry. You get rid of the cops. I’m going back for the kid.” Joe said. Being a man of his word Joe turned his vehicle around. He looked into both cars as he drove by them. The flames he drove towards matched the frustration in all of their eyes. Following the plan he created in his head, Joe had entered the building from the back of the store. He didn’t hesitate to make to the bathroom, just to find a semi-conscious Martin on the bathroom floor. “All right, let’s go.” Joe said, picking Martin up.

“You found him?” Harry asked

“Yes I found him.” Joe replied.

“Huh?” Martin mumbled. Joe took no time in returning to his motorcycle.

"You're finally getting that drive after work." Joe said driving off.

“When you’re in the clear come back to the building.”

“Fine.”

Joe had taken Martin immediately home, acquiring the needed information from his license before returning to their little hideaway in the city. Harry didn’t arrive until 3 hours later, returning to an unsteady Joe West.

“Where the hell have you been, Harry!?” Joe said.

“Running from your father?” Harry responded.

“Don’t get smart with me, Harrison. We had a fucking agreement.” Joe said, taking off his boots and throwing them at Harry, both hitting him in the abdomen before Harry took a seat in his chair.

“Do you mind?” Harry hissed at the pain in his arm he took off his jacket. The blood had drenched the rest of his arm. Joe’s attitude had quickly washed itself away with a wave of concern for Harry’s arm.

“When did this-”

“Before I blew up the damn gas station. Can you please get this damn thing out of my arm?” Harry asked as he looked down at the wound. Joe had retrieved all the tools necessary before pulling up a chair beside Harry.

“You’re lucky it’s just a flesh wound.” Joe said, he handed Harry a wood spoon. “Bite.” Harry did as told before feeling the sting of alcohol touch his skin. Harry’s bite on the spoon had grown stronger as Joe went step by step to tend to his arm. From removing the bullet to stitching his skin back together. After wrapping his arm up, though he really shouldn’t have, Harry drowned himself in some alcohol to help with the pain.

“I-I didn’t know you were a doctor…” Harry said. Joe raised an eyebrow and shook his head at him.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Joe said, taking the beer bottle out of Harry’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed, Harry.” Joe said as he walked Harry into his bedroom, which was really an emptied out office with a bed. The both of them laid silently next to one another.

“I fucked up big time, didn’t I?” Harry asked, turning towards Joe.

“Very much I’m afraid.” Joe responded coldly.

“Babe.”

“Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me, you asshole. Someone could’ve gotten killed.”

“But no one-”

“I don’t care.” Joe said, crossing his arms as he looked up at the ceiling. “Disobey me again, I swear I’ll be the one to put a bullet in you.”

“Whatever you say, Joe.” He said, fixing the blanket on top of him. “Whatever you say.”

#the flash #the flash headcanon #cw the flash #the flash cw #harry wells #mine*#joe west #the flash fanfiction #charlie and the chocolate factory #earth 2 harrison wells #tom cavanagh #jesse l. martin #the flah au #im sorry i took so long with this #the ending seems very rushed as well #oh well

9 notes · View notes