YOOOO WHAT'S GOING ON GUYS IT'S YOUR FLYING FALCON WITH THE SALT GUN, BACK WITH ANOTHER ONESHOT JUST FOR YOU!
This one was suggested by GeekyGirl_200 :) You're awesome, loved and amazing! Thank you for the suggestion.
⚠ WARNING ⚠
MENTIONS OF BLOOD, MUGGING AND MURDER.
ENJOY!!!!!
There was some mistakes, so I went through the last part to fix it up :)
The cold night air nipped at your cold nose, leaving it dripping and red, as well as slightly irritated. You stuffed your hands further into your pockets, trying to rid yourself of the tingling feeling that spread throughout them as they slowly turned numb. You sniffled, scratching your red nose on the shoulder of your jacket, rubbing it back and forth when you felt that you had to sneeze, but simply couldn't force it up, and instead tried to stract away the itchiness.
The pavement beneath your feet swayed under you, and it felt as if everything was rocking back and forth, up and down. Or was it you?
There was a slight buzz in your head, one that had created a dizziness with a satisfying aftertaste. You could feel the alcohol coarse through your veins by each pound of your heart. It made everything spin, but in some relaxing way. It made everything fun again.
Your whole world turned around itself, and for the first time, everything seemed possible in some weird, chaotic way. Every problem had a sudden solution, one that you knew would seem completely ridiculous in the morning when you would think back to it.
Your drunk state had left your mind in a haze, leaving it to make rash decisions on it's own, right when it had no control of the body it was supposed to protect.
Which was why you had now decided to take the first stupid mistake of the night; taking a shortcut through one of the alleys to get home faster.
Your happy and alcohol-inflicted mind overlooked the instinct within yourself that told you that you were being watched. That dark eyes was lurking at her from behind one of the dumpsters, ready to jump their first victim.
Everything was quiet.
All you could hear was the almost silent yet uneven footsteps that you created, and a yawn that passed through your lips. The taste of vodka was still evident on your tongue, and you couldn't help but cringe slightly when you smacked your lips together to suppress yet another yawn. The sour taste was enough for you to almost gag, but you kept it in.
The burger you had ate at the bar was too good to be left on the side of the road as nothing but the content in your stomach coming back up.
A rustle from some garbage had you jumping slightly, your whole body turning towards the source of the sound, only to find the slit, yellow eyes of a cat hissing at you as it scrambled to run off to wherever it was headed. You giggled, covering your mouth with one hand before continuing down the alley. It seemed to get darker and darker, the more steps you took.
But you didn't pay any attention to that, and instead focused on the night sky above you. All the stars twinkling, each of them having some sort of meaning. Even drunk, you wondered where stars came from. Of course, you knew they were crates in the galaxy, but what were they made of? Who decided what they looked like and where they would get placed?
And why did they look so small from Earth, so peaceful, yet in reality would burn you to a crisp if you came just a little bit too close. Stars were more than what the eye just sa—
All air suddenly left your lungs as a big figure slammed directly into your side, causing your body to slam directly into the red concrete wall. You huffed out a breath, your shoulder and hip stinging and your lungs begging to get refilled with air once again.
"Ow, what the heck—" A hand roughly covered your mouth, the smell of dirty leather pushing up against your nose, taunting you, choking you, and making it hard to even breathe just the tiniest bit.
You were pinned up against the concrete wall, and the figure that had his hand above your mouth slammed your head into the wall roughly once, before pinning your arms against your sides.
The whole back of your head exploded with pain, pain that surged throughout your entire skull. You were left stunned, your ears ringing from the sudden harsh contact of the concrete against your skull. Yeah, you even swore you could feel your brain rattle inside of your head.
And you were suddenly in such a deep haze that you didn't notice the blood starting to trickle down the back of your head, a sticky substance coating your hair.
You stated directly into the deep eyes of the person in front of you. Completely black eyes, holding nothing but an empty void, and a scar going from his left eyebrow and all the way over his eye. He towered over you, powerful and intimidatingly, and... with a freaking knife pressed against your throat.
What. The actual. Fuck.
The pain in your head was used as an excuse to the tears that fell from your eyes, and the muffled scream leaving your lips blamed on the harsh grip he had on your hands.
"Look here what we have," The man's deep voice was raspy, and his accent was clearly showing that he wasn't from around here. Every word was slurred and pronounced slightly differently than what it was supposed to. Your best guess would be Mexican. "A lone bird, flying from her nest."
The ever-the-growing fear inside of you caused you to try and thrash around in his grip, but found it was of no use; combined with the alcohol in your system, and the fact that the man was a literal representation of a Mexican Dwayne Johnson, you stood no chance.
Only a miracle could get you out of this situation.
"Didn't your madre ever teach you to not roam the streets at night?" The man asked, his voice so scratchy that it hurt your slightly ringing ears. His breath, it smelled like cigars and Whiskey, and as it fanned across your face, you suppressed a gag. "It could be very... Dangerous."
The man smirked, and let his hand that covered your mouth slowly caress your cheek, wiping away the salty liquids from your eyes that was still running down your cheeks like rivers.
This was your opportunity to scream.
And scream, you certainly did. It was so loud you wondered if North Korea heard it. So high-pitched that you for a moment feared that dogs could only be able to tell that it was a desperate cry for help.
So ear-piercing, fierce, yet also fearful at the same time.
"Shh!" The man hissed, covering your mouth once again, this time with a more violent grip, "Shut up, or I'm gonna have to hurt you."
'You already are, you stupid son of a bitch' You thought sourly, furrowing your eyebrows in anger and fear.
"Listen, how about this," The man then said, "You give me your wallet, phone, money, anything of value, and I'll let you come out of this unharmed."
"Doesn't sounds like a very fair trade to me," A loud voice suddenly boomed, cutting through the air like a sharp knife, proud and majestic, like some kind of prince on a white horse, "After all, you did kinda put this situation on her, am I right? Doesn't exactly look like she wanna give you her money, dumbass."
The guy, out of shock or whatever, let go of you to look for the source of the voice. And there he casually stood, your hero, in a freaking green hoodie and his hands stuffed into them, rocking back and forth on his converses that lit up when he accidentally stomped on the ground.
"Why don't you just scram, kid," The man sneered, "This doesn't concern you."
"Oh, see, that's where you're wrong." Your hero chuckled darkly.
It all happened so fast.
One moment, the man, your hero, had his hands stuffed into the big pocket of his hoodie.
The next, a knife was suddenly soaring through the air, swooshing right past a graffiti painted photo of a skull with flames surrounding it, and had impaled itself into the forehead of the guy that had tried attacking you.
His boys fell towards the ground with a loud thump, and laid there, completely emotionless, with blood trailing down his forehead quickly, creating a puddle under his head.
And the guy, your hero, simply smiled victoriously as he went and pulled the knife out of the man's head.
Your hero examined the hole in the guy's forehead for a second, before suddenly giggling.
"Look at that," He smiled, "There actually is something inside of that dumb head of his. Man, I thought for sure it was gonna be empty with how little common sense he's lagging. What a fucking jerk, am I right?"
You were stood completely frozen, paralyzed even, as you tried getting down from the adrenaline rush of almost getting mugged. However, you found that your tear-filled eyes couldn't seem to blink, and stood wide open with horror and shock, awaiting your so-called hero's next move. Never had you felt this... powerless. Or scared.
Never had the demon called fear escaped from the cage that you so long ago locked it inside.
However, it seemed as if the demon had learned how to pick the locks of your invisible cages, and was now running around inside your head with it's hands in the air while screaming chaotically, leaving all the other demons before their awakening as well.
"Hi, nice to meet you," Your hero stretched out his hand for you to shake, still smiling, and you first now noticed the mask covering his nose and eyes, with small holes to peep through. It revealed his smile, one that faded only in the slightest when you flinched, but he nonetheless kept his hand up, "My name's Dream— well, no it's not. That's just my cover name."
He held up his hand for a few more seconds, waiting to see if you would grab his hand. But after mere seconds of you just staring at him, he awkwardly cleared his throat and let his hand drop back to his side. It hurt slightly when you flinched at the sudden movement again.
"Uh..." Your hero, Dream, said, "I don't usually do this kinda stuff, since, like, there's usually not a traumatized victim, so, like... is it okay if I do my dance of victory, even if you're here? It's just— I always do that, and—"
"T-thank you." You croaked out.
Your voice didn't sound like your own in your ears. It sounded like the one of a weak, helpless damsel in distress. But you felt as if nobody could blame you. God knows what that man would've done if Dream didn't help. Yet that didn't change the fact that you had just watched a man die, right before your eyes. Vanish like it was nothing, and now he was simply just the empty shell of a dead body.
"Uhm, you're welcome..."
"Y/n," You stammered weakly, blinking, which sent more tears down your cheeks, "My name's Y/n."
"Y/n," Dream confirmed, smiling as he adjusted the mask on his head. "You're welcome, Y/n. Hey, stupid question, but are you okay?"
You sniffled, the cold suddenly returning back to your body as you tried to stop yourself from shivering.
No, you weren't okay.
"Yeah," You lied, nodding slightly as you rubbed your bruising wrists, "Yeah, I'm okay."
"Alright, cool," Dream grinned, before casually adding: "I'm gonna get rid of this body now, before the boss gets mad. Don't want him on my freaking back again, that would be annoying as hell."
You tried blocking out his words. He just confused you even more.
"I'm a bounty hunter, by the way," Dream continued, the chatty side of himself taking over without him even noticing, "I track down bastards like this one," he motioned towards the dead body of the man he had just killed, "I kill them and I get a shit ton of money."
You shivered, trying to find warmth as you searched for some kind of exit from this scene. You really just wanted to go home. Not listen to what Dream had to say, because it only made you feel worse. Sick, even, if you were being completely honest.
"Okay, that's cool," You shrugged carelessly, trying to just shrug off the fear and terror, "But I'm gonna... I'm gonna go now, yeah, I don't really feel like being here anymore. So I'm just gonna... Gonna head out."
"Right," Dream sheepishly said, "Of course, God I'm so stupid. Here I am, talking your ass off when you probably just wa— I'm doing it again. Go, before I talk you even more dead than this guy." Dream nudged the dead body with his feet.
You wasted no time in scrambling away from there, desperate to put distance between you and that dead body.
However, as you continued down the streets, this time not taking the alley as you had sobered up enough to think somewhat straight, you felt bad that you had only managed such a weak thank you to the person who saved you. And that you hadn't even given him your hand to shake. Or that you had basically told him that you just wanted to get away from him.
He seemed like a good guy, if you didn't take into consideration that he had just killed someone.
But he was a bounty hunter. Weren't they the good guys? The ones who hunted down the bad guys and got a price?
You were so deep in thought, yet not so deep that you could shake off that weird feeling in the bottom of your gut...
You were being watched again.
Only this time, the friendly green eyes that only moments ago had saved you, was watching you from behind one of the mailboxes, trying to stay out of view from you.
He had followed after you to assure himself that you would get home safe and sound. Just so he could sleep better at night, knowing that you hadn't gotten killed the second he had left you alone.
He couldn't help it... He felt weirdly protective of you, even if he had just met you and you had practically ran away to avoid talking to him.
But he knew he had been spotted when you stopped dead in your tracks, scanned the area and locked eyes with him.
He had expected you to run away like the first time, and he had expected you to scream as loud as you could.
But he was shocked when a gentle, almost invisible smile grazed your face. Maybe you weren't as sober as you thought, because right now, you weren't thinking before speaking.
"Following me, huh?" You questioned, talking louder than usual as he was a good distance away. A slight twinge of fear was detectable in your voice, as you were still trying to overcome the shock of the situation that had taken place...
But you suddenly felt weirdly safe around Dream, who had saved you from that man that could've done God knows what.
"Yeah..." Dream admitted, blushing as he rose from his crouches position and started walking towards you, though carefully, as he didn't wanna scare you off, "I wanted to make sure you got home safe."
His sentence warmed your heart. Your slightly fearful smile grew the tiniest bit.
"I'm sorry I ran like I did," You apologized. Why, you had no idea. You felt as if you had the right to flee. "It's just... y'know."
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Dream insisted, "I totally get it. Dead body, blood... I would be concerned if you didn't at least try to get away."
You laughed just in the slightest, looking at Dream, who himself was wearing a small smile. It grew by the sound of your low laughter.
"Thank you again, Dream." You thanked, "You saved me. You're practically my hero."
The last part was meant in a teasing manner, yet they both knew the seriousness hidden behind the words. You were truly thankful, even if you had ran away.
"You can call me Clay," Dream then said suddenly, "If you want to... It is my real name, so..."
Dream, Clay, smiled just a little wider and stretched his hand out towards you slowly, not wanting to scare you or make you flinch in any way. He didn't want to scare people. It hurt him when he did that.
This time, you didn't just stare at him. You didn't feel scared, and not just because of his slow movements or the way he kept eye-contact, his green eyes constantly asking if he did anything wrong.
He didn't do anything wrong. And you didn't feel scared like you had the first time he had stretched his hand out. Now, you felt weirdly safe. You probably shouldn't, but you still did somehow.
You took his warm hand in your ice cold one, immediately feeling how soft yet calloused it was. It warmed you up almost in an instant.
"It was nice meeting you, Clay," You smiled, looking him in the eyes as you let go of each other's hands, "Thank you for saving me... And I hope this won't be the last time I see you.
"It won't be," Clay chuckled, "Trust me, it won't be."
A beautiful friendship was in the works, ready to come out completed at any bearing second now.
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Thank you for the suggestion, you're awesome <3
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