dying light x reader

Brecken x reader

Lemon ladys and gentalmem come get your lemon.......

I'm sure you can guess, (Y/N) means Your Name, (E/C) is Eye Color, and (S/C) is Shirt Color.

Words:3032

I sat on the couch in the living room of the apartment I've been hiding out in. It's a small, shabby place, much like most of the homes here in Harran, but I won't complain. It does the job. I have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in, even if sleeping is near impossible.

I was halfway through a comic when a pounding on the door sent me into instant guard mode. My hand hovered over the knife in my pocket as I inched towards the window to see who, or what, was here.

My heart was beating a mile a minute with fear. This was it.

I jumped when the pounding continued and I heard my name being called by a familiar voice.

"What the-" I loosened the tension in my body, standing taller as I unlocked the door.

"Brecken?" I looked to the man who nearly collapsed before me.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" I asked, helping him inside. He looked beat.

I walked him over to the couch and with a thud he let his body sink into the firm cushions, leaning his head back as he tried to catch his breath.

"Rais," he panted, wiping sweat and blood from his forehead.

I gritted my teeth and looked to the ground, "fucking Rais."

I used to 'work' for Rais until brecken helped me escape. I've been laying low ever since, and well, Rais isn't happy about it.

Brecken usually checks up on me every now and again. It's honestly the one thing I look forward to anymore, considering the circumstances. However, I never expected this.

"You look- you look like shit, Brecken, I'm so sorry," I looked at his bloody face, feeling at fault for his pain.

"(Y/N), it's not your fault," he groaned, holding onto his midsection.

I rushed to the bathroom, grabbing whatever supplies I could find that would come in handy.

"Here, look at me," I tilted his head up with my finger. I wanted to get a better view of his wounds.

I used some water from a random bottle laying around and poured it onto a small towel. I wiped his face clean of any blood. He winced when I got to his eye. I gave him a look.

"What?" he asked, "what is it?"

"You got a pretty good scratch on your eyebrow. Jesus, any lower and-"

He took my hand and lowered it away from his face.

"I'm alive, (Y/N). Please, don't blame yourself."

I swallowed, putting my gaze to his grip on my hand. I pulled away to continue cleaning him up, although I felt a weird feeling in my stomach when he touched me.

The only option was to hold the cut closed with a bandage and tape until he was able to get real medical care.

I smiled when I finished adhering the bandage. It was hard to ignore how handsome he looked, even with a wound.

"This look suits you," I giggled, shaking my head.

He let out a light laugh, "oh yeah? Maybe I'll get beat up more often."

I rolled my eyes, unable to peel the smirk from my lips.

"U-um, do you mind if I..." I suddenly felt nervous as I pointed to his torso.