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hiraeth-witch-11 · 11 months

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Bond To Happen Part 11

Part 11: What if I'm a Mistake?

Warnings: the reader has passive suicidal ideation, lots of big feelings from trauma, mention of SA, canon typical content

Word Count: 3500ish

“You slept in the same bed as Billy Russo and nothing happened?” Karen asks in blatant disbelief, fingers stilling in your hair. You roll your eyes at her from your spot on the couch, head resting in her lap.

“That is what I said, Kare, 3 times now, I think. He’s a good guy, he’s never made me uncomfortable and he respects my boundaries.” Your tone is a little defensive.

“I know, sweetie. Honestly, he’s surprised both me and Frank with how he is around you. I just meant you both obviously have some sort of connection and I thought being that close might be what changes things up a bit.”

You relax at her words. “I was so tired, I passed out pretty quickly. I was just grateful the thunder wasn’t as loud after I fell asleep.”

“And if you both had been more awake?” Her words make you think.

“I don’t know if I’m there yet, Kare,” you say softly. “It’s not like he’s even actually said anything to show he’s interested either. There would have to be so much talking to even start anything romantic or physical and I haven’t told him everything about my magic. It would be too complicated and I don’t even know where I would begin…”

“Do you want me to just listen or do you want my thoughts?”

“Thoughts,” you mumble, focusing on the show the two of you have on in the background.

“I think you’re focusing on the obstacles instead of deciding whether or not you want to try,” Karen says kindly.

“What would I do if I did decide?” You ask earnestly.

“I think you gotta pick first, babe,” she answers with a smile.

“Ughhh, why can’t things just be simple. It would be so much easier if I actually got a real amount of energy from you and the rest of the gang,” you groan.

“Me too, but at least it’s been helping a bit, right?”

You nod, unable to voice the lie. You did feel better around your friends, especially when touching them, but it didn’t last. Even when you had tried opening your connection to their auras and actively feeding from them, the results had been disappointing. The moment they left the room, your fatigue would come crashing back down on you. You still spent as much time with your found family as you could, but it was about as effective as taking ibuprofen for a stab wound. You didn’t want them to worry, though, so you didn’t say anything. You kept yourself from truly putting words to it, but you had pretty much resigned yourself to your eventual death. Anything you tried now felt like it would be useless. A flailing of limbs as you ran out of air. You didn’t want that. You just wanted to be with your friends until you couldn’t anymore.

Billy was a fantasy, a white knight you were starting to daydream about swooping in and fixing all your problems. But you don’t think even he can help you at this stage. You’d probably have to be attached at the hip 24/7 to make a difference in your health. To be honest, you’d lost pieces of your will to live steadily over the last few years. The first when your parents disowned you. Another when a blonde man slipped something into your drink, a choice that led to his death. You think the biggest part of you gave up that night in the rain, surrounded by the bodies of men who saw you as less than an animal.

******

The days following you and Russo’s rainstorm adventure, he made a point to check on you twice daily. Often through a text in the morning and evening, but it quickly evolved into more. Billy stopping by your office to chat or share food became a regular thing. If he came into the office with a coffee, he always had an extra for you. Frank complained about being left out anytime he noticed. Turns out, you were right, Russo had a sweet tooth, so you would frequently find a tart or donut or some obscure miniature dessert on your desk during the week.

Russo asked about your life, your family. A sore topic, it turns out, for both of you.

“They disowned me when I told them about all this,” You say, waving a hand and allowing a bit of your icy blue magic to be visible around the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Russo says earnestly.

“It is what it is. They told me I was as good as dead to them. They weren’t bad parents, though, so it was tough to accept they meant it. Up until they brought out the shotgun to make sure I moved all my shit out of their house. At least they waited until after undergrad to decide they hated ‘my kind’.” You leave out some details. Mainly that they called you a whore because of the details of your magic. At the time you thought you were some sort of succubus related witch. But you’d only ever had sex twice with a friend in college so you don’t think you can really claim either title.

“I grew up in foster care. Frank was the first family I ever had.” Billy admits after a few beats. His aura darkens at the memory, you can tell it’s painful for him, but the change in aura doesn’t feel uncomfortable for you like it should.

“Frank’s good people,” you say finally. “He’s a grumpy bastard, but he’s a real softie on the inside, I think, at least.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Billy laughs. “He’d pout for a week.”

“That is such a strange visual. Frank Castle pouting,” you snort, imagining it. “It’s weird to think that about this time 2 years ago, I didn’t have a single friend in the city and now I’ve got a whole little group. Never had that many people in my life before.”

“Surely you had friends in college?” Billy asks incredulously.

“Never more than two at a time, and most of them didn’t last long.” You shake your head. “It was okay though, I’ve always preferred the quiet.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt it then,” Billy says, jokingly moving to get up.

“No, no. You are a rare exception. Especially as talkative as you are,” you tease.

“Glad to hear you like me, sweetheart,” Billy says, smirking as he settles back into the chair.

“I didn’t say that.” You feel your cheeks warming and rush to turn the subject back to him. “What about you? I bet you had a bunch of friends through school. You seem like a popular guy.”

Russo shakes his head non committedly. “I was just another pretty face in highschool. Same for the Marines, at the beginning at least.”

You can sense a little bitterness around that word. Pretty. He didn’t like it. His whole aura tenses as he says it. It was something you’d suspected before, but his aura had never confirmed your suspicions until now.

“Well, you started your own company from the ground up and you do a lot of good with it. I would say you have progressed past being just a pretty face.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

******

“Hey, Blue. Any plans for the weekend?” Billy asks, leaning against your doorframe.

“I was planning to get drinks with Karen tonight, but she has to work late so I’m deciding whether or not I still want to go.” You rest backwards in your chair and interlace your fingers over your abdomen, twiddling your thumbs as you think.

“Alone?” Billy arches an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. Unless you want to come?”

“I’d love to.” Billy smiles at your offer.

Looking back, you probably should have just gone alone. With Billy next to you, you don’t really want to feed. Or you want to feed from him too much and have decided it wouldn’t be fair to do that to a friend without them knowing about it. Instead of feeding, you enjoy a strawberry daiquiri and tease Billy over his choice in beer.

“I don’t need to try it to know it’s gross, Bill.”

“So you’re judgin’ me without having anythin’ to back yourself up?”

“Objectively, I know my drink tastes better.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s sweet, can you even call it a real drink, sweetheart?”

“It has twice as much alcohol as yours does, and it actually tastes good. I swear you and Frank drink that shit just because you’re ‘too manly’ for anything else.” You use air quotes around the words and take another sip. “Try it and tell me you still think yours is better.” You offer him your drink. He raises an eyebrow and swaps drinks with you.

“Only if you try mine.”

You make a face, “Fine.”

The two of you drink at the same time and you grimace. “Yup, I stand by my statement. All beer is gross.”

“Yours is better,” Billy nods, taking another sip.

“I told you so.”

He hums and goes in for a third sip.

“Hey, get your own,” you say as you swipe your drink back before he can drink anymore.

“Why would I do that when I can just steal yours?” Billy grins.

“Absolutely not, William. I will fight you for it.” You finish your drink and the two of you talk for another few minutes before you are ready to call it a night.

An obnoxiously loud chorus of laughter comes from a group across the room and you wince at the noise.

“If you don’t like crowds so much, why do you go out for drinks instead of stayin’ in?” Billy asks curiously as the two of you get up to walk home.

You shrug, “I can’t become a hermit, Bill.” And you have to at least try to feed sometimes.

“Well I’m happy to come with you anytime you want company.” He eyes the room with disdain. “Or a buffer.”

He holds the door open for you and the cool night air hits you as you laugh in response to his words, “A buffer from what?”

“You haven’t noticed all the guys starin’ at you that whole time?”

“Like in a ‘thinking of harvesting my organs for the black market’ way or a ‘there’s something on my face’ way?”

“In a ‘jealous that you have company already’ way.” Billy moves to the outer side of the sidewalk.

You give Billy an incredulous look of disbelief. “In that case, it was probably meant for you, not me.”

“Most of them aren’t my type, sweetheart.”

“Most of them aren’t my type either.”

“What is your type then?” Billy asks.

You are my type, your mind supplies unhelpfully. “I’m not even sure if I know anymore. Most often, it’s women.”

“‘Women’ is a pretty broad category.” Billy grins.

“There are a lot of gorgeous women in the world and they all look different, I happen to appreciate different types of beauty.”

“I hear that. And when it comes to men?”

“My type gets more specific with men. Not that I’ve even dated one in years.”

“That specific, huh?”

“Yup. They have to respect boundaries for one, which feels damn near impossible to find sometimes. I can’t date anyone who’s sexist or racist or homophobic or threatened by me.They gotta be able to communicate their feelings effectively. They have to understand my whole weirdness with touch. And that’s not even adding in if I find them physically attractive. What about you?”

“I thought my type was anything on two legs,” Billy jokes.

“Come on, it’s not fair if I’m the only one revealing all my secrets.”

“So your type is a secret.”

“It might be.”

“In that case,” Billy chuckles. “I like fiery women- and men occasionally.”

You try not to let your surprise show at the admission. Sure, he had hinted, but he’d never outright said anything.

“If we’re talkin’ more than just a passin’ thing, I guess I gotta lot of the more specific descriptions too. I’ve just never really gotten around to a real relationship and figurin’ all that out. Frank keeps tellin’ me ‘quality over quantity.’”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never had a real relationship either. The closest I got was pseudo-dating someone for a month in college. It ended when I started flinching anytime they touched me. That was when this whole thing really got started,” you explain gesturing to your temple. “It sucked ‘cause I really liked them.”

“I don’t really like touch all that much either,” Billy starts softly. “There was this guy at the group home. I must have been ten, eleven at the time. When a grown man tells you that you're pretty, you know nothing good is coming. Let's just say, I wasn't interested in the kind of games that he had in mind. So I went after him with the stickball bat. Caught him good a couple times, too. Then he broke my arm. Got pissed off, ripped my rotator cuff in three places.”

You don’t know what to say, don’t know what you can say.

Billy continues, “And the older I got, the prettier I got, and the more people wanted a piece of me in one way or another. When people want somethin’, they find a reason to grab it. Shit, you probably know what I mean better than most.”

You nod and look up at him as the two of you keep walking. “You didn’t deserve it, any of it, Billy.”

“Neither did you,” Billy insists, surprising you. You’d never told him what happened, never told anyone. Frank was the only one who you had even mentioned it to. You preferred to keep it buried. Maybe you’ve misread and he meant something else, but instinct tells you he knows, he sees you, he understands.

******

“It’s okay, Frank, it’s just a migraine. People get them all the time and still work,” you insist.

“How many days this month have you had a migraine this bad and still came in?” Frank asks, sounding pretty pissed at you. The lights in your office were as low as they could go and you had had an ice pack over your forehead when Frank came in unannounced as he had a bad habit of doing.

“I didn’t keep track. I don’t know why you’re upset, Frank, I’m getting my work done. This hasn’t affected the quality of my readings or reports.”

“Be straight with me, Blue. Are these migraines ‘cause of your magic?” He refuses to let you get out of this conversation with your excuses. The day or so after you’d returned from your trip with Billy, you had felt better than you had in months but that feeling quickly devolved into feeling worse. You’d had a taste of how good it could be and your magic was protesting. Even going out with him the other night was only a brief escape from the pain.

“Yes.”

“Shit, kid, I didn’t know things had gotten this bad. Does Bill know?”

“No and you won’t tell him. There’s nothing to be done and my job keeps me focused. I’ll tell him if it becomes a problem.” You keep your voice firm, trying to match Castle’s classic stubbornness. You didn’t want to bring Billy into all this, you don’t want him to worry.

“If you get any other symptoms. So much as a sniffle, you will tell one of us immediately. Tell me you understand,” he orders.

“I understand, Frank. I will, I promise.” You aren’t sure if it’s the truth.

Frank eyes you, as if he doesn’t quite believe you either. He eventually nods and leaves your office. Once he’s gone, you remove the ice pack from your face and sit up, reaching for your water bottle. Warmth trickles from your nose and you reach up to wipe it away absentmindedly, as if it’s an itch. You look down at your hand and assess the scarlet coating your skin.

“Fuck.”

******

You had a theory that Matt knew something more than he let on about your health. Sometimes he’d ask if you were okay, a deeper meaning in the words. Or he’d make a point to ask if you wanted to talk, if you needed any help. You didn’t realize how much his enhanced senses were picking up until he confronted you one night in the kitchen of his apartment while you helped clean up after game night.

“You aren’t okay, are you?” He states more than asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Matthew,” you reply coolly as you dry a dish.

“You’ve been brushing this off for too long, Blue, talk to me.”

“There’s no point, nothing is going to change this.” You gesture to your head, aura flashing.

“Bullshit. Have you even been trying? Have you looked for anything more concrete about your magic or your species?” Matt is struggling to keep from raising his voice in frustration.

“What is the point? I tried, but it didn't work. I gave up. There is no point in fighting anymore.” You aren’t as good at controlling your volume.

“The point,” he’s practically spitting in anger, “is that you have people who love you. You could have a good life. You just have to want it.”

“A life without real sleep? Without being able to sit in only my thoughts? Without any real chance of a life partner? In a country that’s would sooner collar me, or fucking burn me, than help me? What is the point, Matt?” You’re yelling now, tears slipping down your cheeks as you feel that quiet, ever present rage fill you. The rage of a queer person used to hearing slurs in hallways, bars, and family dinners. Of a woman who has been threatened and belittled and hurt by men who think they are owed something they choose to take. Of a witch who lost her family, her home, her dreams of the future, who was forced into becoming a survivor.

And with this, you begin to face some of the pain you have forced so deep down into your mind. Everything you were, everything you loved, has been taken from you piece by piece. Your family was your only constant growing up, you’d always struggled to make friends. Your parents took that from you in an instant. You thought you would find freedom in your travels, but all you received was hurt and hate from the strangers you encountered. You finally finally settle in a city where you begin to feel safe, and then your rights are slowly stripped away. You hadn’t wanted to be alive in a long time. Even with your friends, your pain still festered within you like an infection you refused to treat. Sometimes you think death would be easier than this. Anything would be easier than this.

“You deserve to live, Blue,” Matt says softly, voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t know that, Matt. You don’t know what I’ve done to stay alive this long,” you shake your head furiously.

“Have you ever purposely hurt someone innocent?”

“No, but I-”

“Then it doesn’t matter. Do you think Frank deserves to die for what he’s done?”

“No, but-”

“Then why would you?”

“What if I’m a mistake?” You voice a fear that has followed you for so long, you can’t remember a life without it. Something that started small, when no one wanted to play with you as a little kid and grew as disaster seemed to follow you everywhere. “What if I’m wrong and that’s why this happened? Maybe this is nature’s way of self correcting.”

“Someone as good as you, could never be wrong, Blue.”

You break down at that. Full, heaving sobs as you lean over the sink, face in your hands.

“Can I?” Matt asks and you nod, feeling his arms wrap around you.You turn and cry into his shoulder, venting emotion that you’ve tried so hard to avoid, and he lets you. Rubs your back gently and murmurs kind words into your hair. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

After a while, your sobs taper off, turning to heavy breathing interrupted with sniffles. You try to apologize for ruining Matt’s shirt, but he won’t let you.

“How long has that been building up?”

“A while,” you admit.

“I know I'm not one to talk about the whole, you know, sharing things and talking about feelings, but you know we’re here for you. Right?”

“I know, Matt.”

“I found some older stories and documents, Karen helped but I told her it was a surprise for you. They look promising, Can I send the info to you? Maybe you can look it over and see if anything clicks?” He explains once you’ve calmed down.

“Okay, I’ll give them a look,” you agree. You aren’t sure if your feelings about dying have changed much, but for Matt, for Karen and the rest of the people you’ve become so close with, for Billy, you can try.

Series List

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglists, feel free to tell me!

Series Taglist: evyiione, @kayhi808, @ellooo0ooo, happydeanpotter, intothesoul

Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel

Feedback is the spice of life and I appreciate any and all comments, questions, and thoughts.

#billy russo x reader #the punisher #fluff #witch!reader #angst #daredevil #frank castle #magic

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naffeclipse · 1 year

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Hi, Naff! I caught up with the Vampire chapters and I gotta say, having the context about what the hunter has said and knowing that there is a bad ending side chapter in the way I gotta say: you are gonna DESTROY us with this one aren't you? Because I have SO many thoughts on how that could go. But first I will comment on the canon chapters themselves!

I like how you are upping the difficulty for y/n. First we had cryptids that were more wild than anything, but they have been increasing in inteligence and capacity of reasoning, now getting to the Vampires that are willing to hunt in pairs, and even if they are murderous, they show they have a bond with the other. (Also the hypocrisy of the female being horrified at Sun and Moon feeding on the male one XD Like ma'am are you listening to yourself?). And also I like that while Sun and Moon are a safety net they don't know is there, they actually did a lot that made the hunter's job more difficult this time. The most important bit being the detector. They would have immediately known there were two vampires and where they were, and would have indeed finished before nightfall as they had predicted. Even if emotionally distracted, arguing with Sun constantly probably cost them precious seconds that would have let them end the male vampire and maybe they would have only have to dealt with the female vampire (though it's good Sun was there because even if that had been the case, the female vampire might have taken them by surprise), but also the fact that they were so preocupied with the vessel was a problem because their attention was divided. And of course, the fact that they were freaking out about the demonic presence "threatening" Moon was what allowed the female vampire to jump and bite them. Hard lessons learned for Sun and Moon at the cost of almost losing their heart. They think they know better but in trying to conceal their identity, they took away some of y/n's own fangs and claws. Loved the sweet resolution though, with them taking such tender care of their hunter while they were recovering.

Ok, now for the angsty vampire y/n thoughts. (Warning for dark, because kind of inevitable with the subject matter) OOF. Their intentions are very clear if they were to get infected. But like the absolute refusal of Sun and Moon to let them go through with it? Could take a lot of directions. The one that has some bittersweert hope is that they convince the hunter to try and keep living. Maybe only hunting animals and doing so in the most merciful way possible. But the bitter part would be BITTER. Because how to begin to even accept that, and that's not even taking into account whether they are forced to reveal themselves to y/n.

But in the case they absolutely refuse to exist like this? Sun and Moon trying desperately to stop them from ending it? Would they try to force them to stay in the airstream to prevent them from walking out in the sun unitl they can convince them not to? Take away all stakes and holy water? Hunting animals for them urging them to eat as y/n utterly refuses to? Begging the boys to please understand and to please let them go! because they don't want this!! It's unthinkable, they can't!! Mega OOF! Pain all around! I am terrified and excited for what you've prepared!

Amazing writing as always!!! :D

Hi, babe! ♥

Ahhha, I'm glad you like the progression of the cryptids! And oh yeah, the female vampire is totally fine with slurping the blood of a demonic cryptid's partner but then the boys cross a line when they eat its partner's heart. smh. AND OH YEAH! The boys did not do Y/N any favors and in turn, Y/N didn't help them either ;-; It was a mess and I wanted to show for the first time how much difficulty can stem from the fact that Sun/Moon are hiding their true identity and that Y/N doesn't know they're a cryptid. Y/N got hurt emotionally and Sun/Moon got hurt physically ;-;

If only someone knew their buddy was a cryptid and could work around that instead of accidentally flash-banging them out of their vessel hmmmm

Ah, I'm really happy you enjoyed the softer ending! I had to make up for all the angst and misunderstanding and pain hehe

Angsty vampire y/n, my beloved. Oh ho, you have no idea how bitter the bittersweet can taste. As for Y/N's intentions and the boys' resolve, it's gonna be Stoppable Force meets Immovable Object. I'm very excited to unveil it soon, but again, it will be dark and properly tagged with warnings.

Thank you so much, ahhh! You're so sweet and I love reading your thoughts on the latest chapter! ♥

#cryptid sightings #oh yeah we're gonna have lots of angst for the vampire one shot #as well as type of reveal of the boys #chaotikanvas

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the-hydroxian-artblog · 2 years

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I saw your SCP-682 comics (among many other masterpieces) and i just gotta ask- SCP-5000 reveals why 682 finds humanity so disgusting, so I'm wondering if -B also noticed *that* and how'd they take it

Very good question. There's some kinda... weird aspects of SCP-5000, and implications made by project Dammerung-related stuff, but I fully confess I mostly understand it second-hand from voice-over work from the likes of the Exploring Series, and SCP Explained.

Gonna ramble a long while about my own headcanons, and finally what Styx would likely think; in brief, he sees "It" as mostly just a benign tumor.

If anyone is unfamiliar with any of this, please scroll on by. This is long, and requires knowledge of SCP-5000 and SCP-2718 for context.

What I gathered though is that "It" is why humans feel pain, and that if the afterlife is just being a self-aware corpse as O5-11 described, feeling constant pain "feeds" "It". Hence, "You're not supposed to feel pain". Cure yourself of "It", and you'll get to not feel empathy, or pain, and die without issue.

A lot of the story is left up to interpretation, but it's presented as a nightmare scenario in the most literal sense, where the idea is scary enough to make you want to suspend your disbelief so that it has full effect. There's weird... holes to it, though.

When properly examined, "It" is something that exists in the collective unconscious of humans, but... animals feel pain. Animals feel empathy, at least in some capacity. It's a practical chemical reaction and instinct-complex to strengthen pack bonds.

I have to assume SCP-5000's canon isn't "materialist", as in, humans aren't just neuron-signals in meatsuits and nothing more. In that case, the "Individual consciousness" is implied to be sacrosanct, and anything else exploiting the "Individual" is a malicious, unjust force. There's a strong objectivist/individualist moral implication about SCP-5000, which already by default doesn't sit so right with me, as "no man is an island"; no matter how much you want to act like a unique individual, there are natural beliefs every individual will latch onto, such that the formation of a collective unconscious is just inevitable, and therefore the formation of "It".

I think beings like canon 682 see this as an inherent moral evil, and rationalize this evil as suffering, as from an empathy-less perspective, the individual is always supreme, so anything that subverts the individual is "disgusting". Even still, if the Foundation is trying to do humans a favor, what is the motivation? Just that the wailing of humanity is disgusting to them, and they'd like it to be silenced? That doesn't really justify anything short of a clean scorching of the earth, rather than the bizarrely sadistic approach taken by the Foundation in SCP-5000. If SCP-2718 only works via "It's" influence, then taking the inefficient, weird sadistic approach to exterminate humanity implies a motivation on their part that doesn't stem from empathy (that they aren't supposed to have) or logical self-interest (that they'd supposedly be left with). If all humans were wiped out, there'd be nothing for "It" to feed off of, and it's not a stretch to assume the Foundation could've done way more efficiently than they did.

All information we get as justification for wiping out humanity from the changed-Foundation's and 682's perspective is already biased, and riddled with logical inconsistencies that only more inconsistent conjecture can explain. Supposedly, "It" is such a threat that wiping out humanity is the more humane alternative, but with this information and these deductions, I feel that you can't really rationalize that or ignore some clear bias the heartless Foundation has.

So to finally answer your question: Ideally I'd rather just assume in my canon that the entity doesn't exist, but if it were to, SCP-682-B/Styx Nacht II would figure that "It" is not something separate from humanity, nor is it the same as humanity itself. "It" is "civilization" and "society", something that inevitably manifests in the unconscious of any species that becomes developed enough. Society isn't "good" or "evil", but the purpose of empathy is to keep the bindings of "society" strong.

So in his opinion, the ideal is to neither fear "It", nor believe "It" to be "supreme" over your own self. Hold this belief, and your afterlife will be fine, and the entity can't exploit you. Completely shackling yourself to empathy will make you suffer, but you'll still suffer if you try "hardening your hearts". The answer lies in the middle. "Suffering" is inevitable, even without "pain". Killing the entity doesn't solve that, and something else would take its place anyway. This is what he'd understand, and that normal 682 wouldn't.

I like SCP-5000 for the sprawling horrific scenario it is, but on a logical level, even with Foundation-canon weirdness, it kinda just comes across as a biblical apocalypse story written by an objectivist having a nightmare.

Hopefully I.. sort of explained myself, and didn't write something totally incoherent.

#Styx Nacht II #SCP-682-B #SCP-5000 #SCP #SCP Foundation #headcanon

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neotheaterz · 1 year

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something I gotta say about my aizawa, he is REALLY headcanon heavy. when I say he's a vigilante i mean it, he doesn't like heroes or even align with their ideals, especially for the fact that they are heros for the ' praise ' and he sees it repeated where people get into the heroics for again attention rather than the good, so it's a reason why he stays out of the limelight so strongly, knowing how attention and praise can corrupt even the purest of intentions.

I also will say, he's not a hero, so sometimes he does end up associating with villains, and due to such he has a level of respect for certain villains, and will yes do his job accordingly, but also goes ' you have my respect, so if we see each other outside of ' battle' or 'work' i will respect you as much and associate with you equally, but keep mad tabs on you ' he is always working, but again. He is a person of respect, and if you earn his respect, he will pay it forth.

he's also a person that's like, if you're doing things that are criminal but for a good reason ( stealing to feed yourself, or others. killing to protect people etc etc ) he will also respect you, and instead of punishing you for actions, will attempt to aid you in your situation as best as he can, and steer you away from the villain life ...

dare i say Aizawa is more of a villain than he is even a hero? yeah <3 but he literally is so important to me and is my baby. I write him how i want to write him fuck canon

welcome to my Aizawa where he holds my entire brain and i've rewritten his entire story and his lore.. like he's crazy personal and in-depth and complicated

#ooc.#people literally were terrified of him for most of his life due to his quirk and he was seen as ' villain ' material rather than hero

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honeybunhalo · 3 years

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So I’ve been thinking about that Supercorp AU where Kara and Lena raise Kon-El...

Anyway, I’m moving forward on that happy Supercorp + Kon au I have that I was repressing for so long because I was convinced no one would care but you know what. This is for me. Welcome to my self indulgence where I work through things via giving this pseudo clone child a good home and Kara and Lena the domestic life they deserve.

Y’all out here trying to power through the final season of Supergirl (rip your patience and sanity, you brave souls) because I gave up on it like 2? years ago knowing where they weren't going because of the queerbaiting. I can’t withstand watching the end first hand. So I'm peacefully writing an AU where Kara and Lena adopt and raise Kon-El (ie Superboy/Conner Kent Luthor my sweet 90′s punk styled boi) together and get married somewhere in the process because I love their dynamic and I want them to be happy and I might as well give them Kon so he can be properly raised by somebody. I’m always so sad seeing him sidelined in the family by Clark in the comics and Kon doesn’t feel like he really fits into the Kent family. I might as well fuse these two concepts I’m passionate into one thing.

Think about it: Kara and Lena being cute domestic wives and getting to share everything they have with each other and a child who is not only tied to both of them by blood, but wasn’t wanted or immediately accepted by his biological parents (I’m keeping him as being made from Superman and Lex Luthor’s DNA because I think that assists in the storytelling more. and also he’s so ashamed of his ties to Lex in canon and that he was born “wrong” that i feel like changing him to having different bio parents goes against the spirit of his story. He should be loved for who he is not who he’s made from). They get to adopt the kid and give him a place where he is wanted and loved which helps them overcome their own childhood traumas. THAT’S THE GOOD SHIT

I already made a meme to convey my passion for this idea

I would die for this AU (that I need to give it a name at some point) and I have no one I know who likes Supercorp to share it with. I have so many sketches and little bits of writing for this that I never posted. Please let me know if anyone is interested in this.

#Supercorp #Kon-El #Supergirl #Lena Luthor #Kara Danvers #Kara Zor-El #Conner Kent #Superboy #CW Supergirl #non art post #I recently reread Kon’s new earth storyline. And I’m seeing a lot of supercorp on my dash again.#Im full of salt and rage and i want all three of them to be happy together #Yeah that’s it. F the CW supergirl writers.#When canon is no good so you gotta feed yourself #i've already been sketching out a comic for this concept and made an accompanying script lord help me im invested #i want my sweet boy to have parents please wont someone parent this wild child #he deserves to have a home

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karumashadowchicken · 2 years

Note

Greetings! This is thy anon who requested the Lotor head canons. My dearest apologies for not being specific. I would like to request Yandere! Lotor HCs competing with Yandere! Allura over the reader?

Thank you for your time. Please remember to rest and eat! School is not easy! I hope your day is going well! Go grab yourself a snack to eat bc you deserve it! Have a good day/night/afternoon/morning! :D

Thank you so much!

Yandere Lotor would normally be rather calm when trying to wine someone over. Using manipulative tactics to make himself seem like the good guy, he's just protecting you and doing whats right.

Unfortunately, his attitude will change, just slightly when placed in competition for his future lover, for Y/n. They don't know it yet, but they will.

I'm going to say your on team Voltron, position, or role doesn't matter. He's going to attempt to win your trust, along with Allura, and the others.

-He'll become trust worthy, first by talking positively about your skills, and the rest of your team. Talking negatively might make him seem like a rude person.

-"Y/n, I've noticed you're rather skilled when it comes to [Redacted]." He's gonna listen to you talk, and ask questions mid way through, just so you know he's paying attention.

-He's gonna work on befriending you, a few of the others who are more easily persuaded, and work to find some secrets on Allura.

-Once he finds something, maybe some Allura was hiding from you, he might casually mention it. ??? "Wait, Allura didn't tell you?" Then apologize and say it was nothing. He's gotta plant that seed of doubt.

-Lotor is gonna try to spend most of his time with you. Which at first was difficult with Allura wanting to spend time with Y/n, and the general distrust around him. But after a while the others may agree that Lotor needs more help with whatever he's doing, more than Allura on the ship.

Once he's placed himself in your casual life as a close friend, he'll start guiding you everywhere the two of you walk, with an arm lightly pressed to your back. He's gonna do those cute things people do where they feed each other snacks, and treats. He'll share his jacket, or something similar to that. He wants people to recognize him when they see y/n. Know that they, are with him.

-I think he'll start liking the things you like, just to have common stuff to talk about.

-Lotor is gonna ask about stuff from Earth (or where ever your Mc is from), and try to get some familiar foods, and objects, books, things to make you feel at home when your with him.

-I feel like He'd do that thing where he never really asks you out, he kinda just starts taking you on dates, and just casual starts calling you cute nicknames.

-Y/n, is probably just like, huh. Well okay, guess were dating then. Maybe a bit more confusion, and why me tho-

-It's all nice and smooth until they find all the picture of them Lotor has. Not to mention the notes, and shrines.

______________________________________________________________

I hope that works! Thanks for suggesting. I haven't written for Voltron in a little while, and Prince Lotor is an all time favorite. It's always the prince's- :)

And I did take a snack break, thank you! I appreciate it, especially since I lose track of time, and it's gonna be midnight in an hour or so. I need some sleep, but I gotta save my personal hobbies for after the important work. :)

#yandere lotor #yandere prince lotor #yandere voltron #voltron x reader #yandere x reader #prince lotor x reader #yandere lotor x reader #yandere prince lotor x reader #yandere prince lotor headcanons #yandere headcanons #yandere voltron headcanons #lotor x reader headcanons

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

De(railed) +18

Summary: The canon episode "Derailed" reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

CW: mommy kink sub! Spencer x dom! female (she/her) reader, cum play, penetrative sex, light degradation, praise kink, light choking (mentioned), edging, calling him a slut (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 6 K (this is the longest thing I've ever written!)

Author's Note: Special thank you to @shemarmooresfedora for reading this for me because I was very nervous about the smut portion. And a very special thank you to @notanotherreidgirl for inspiring this idea! this was my ask so yeah, this is a little out there for me so be kind (*dips into the shadows*). Also I either really hate or really love this title :)

Taglist: You can join the taglist here!

De(railed)

Sitting on the train, headed towards Virginia for the custodial interview, you tried to remind yourself what Spencer said to you the previous night when you dropped him off at his apartment. You had his hands in yours and you could feel him shake with nerves when he spoke.

He told you that he believes in you. Even when you think that Hotch and Gideon are sending you out to the solo interview too early, Spencer believes in you. If only you’d believe a little bit in yourself, then maybe you’d be able to figure out a way off this train, but an armed man and innocent passengers proves that a little challenging.

The man passes the train up and down and you tell yourself to relax. In hindsight, it seems like a horrible series of events that lead to the man shooting the train attendant. You’ve done your best to keep him calm until the police can see him off the train. Looking outside, you see SWAT, local PD, and FBI lined up 50 yards from the train.

Continuing to wave his gun around the train, the unsub rants about wanting to talk to a higher authority. To yourself, to wish that Spencer was here with you. He’d have figured out exactly what was wrong with the man by now. For less than professional reasons, you’re forever grateful that he’s not here- that he’s safe on the other side of the train.

“He’s out of his mind,” the man holding a bottle of whiskey says, “You gotta do something, lady,” he says, taking a swig of his drink. Your eyes dart to him and back up the doctor, the unsub’s psychologist, looking for a way out.

You breathe deeply, hoping that the BAU would come up with a plan. Knowing FBI protocol, you expect them to try to initiate a line of communication. Glancing over at the unsub, you think that he’ll want to talk to someone who looks like they are powerful. That would be either Hotch or Gideon. Selfishly, you’re grateful that Spencer still looks like an underpaid TA with a toy gun attached at his hip.

“No! Please, don’t hurt me!” the young woman screams, trying to release herself from the man, Ted’s, grip. He releases her, throwing her to the ground when his phone rings.

Gideon.

On the phone with Gideon, the man demands for something to be removed. You can’t hear what he’s saying to the unsub, but you place the little faith you have left into hoping your team can save you.

***

His vest is much too big for him.

That’s all you can think of when you realize Spencer is the “technician” that they’re sending in. His tie and shirt stick awkwardly and there is a gap in his shoulders around the vest. The straps are pulled so tight that they nearly fold over. His hands aren’t shaking when he carries the small black box, but his eyes look terrified.

You want to reach out to him, maybe hold his hand or brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face, but you can’t. You have to sit there and pretend that this is the first time you’ve met him. It’s excruciatingly sick and mildly amusing in an equally twisted way. The first time you’ve come to terms with loving Spencer, you both can very well die.

“I’m here for the chip,” Spencer says, holding his hands up, “the higher authorities sent me,” he claims, feeding into the unsubs delusion. You shield your glance, unable to trust yourself from launching yourself in between Spencer and the man with the gun.

“That’s far enough and drop your weapons,” Ted says, holding the crying woman by her neck, “and take that vest off. I want to see you,”

“I don’t have any weapons. They don’t authorize them for-”

“I said take it off!” the man shouts, throwing the woman to the ground.

Spencer complies, taking off the much too big vest and tossing it to the ground. He holds his hands up, playing the part of the unsuspecting underling well. He reaches out to Ted, showing him the tools that he’ll use to take out the “chip”. You wonder how Spencer will pull it off, but you know he will in the end.

Spencer digs into the man’s skin with the scalpel. You can’t catch the sleight of hand, but you know that’s what he used.

“I have to leave, the higher authorities need the chip-”

“Turn it on,” Ted orders, “Turn it on!” he screams, his voice booming in the small train.

Spencer’s eyes dart to yours thinking of ways that he can get out of here. He looks almost sorry, and you feel a wave of intense regret. The thousands of times you could have said those little words seem so simple now.

“I can’t turn it on,” Spencer says, “I can’t turn it on,” You hate how scared he sounds, and you hate even more how you have to pretend that you don’t know him.

“Why!” the unsub yells, thrashing the gun around, “You’re one of them!”

Thinking quickly when you see him point the gun at Spencer’s face, you jump to your feet. You push Spencer out of the way, terrified that he’ll do something rash. You can’t lose Spencer, not when you’ve hadn’t had the chance to have him yet.

“It needs to be implanted to be activated,” you say, “I know this stuff Ted, I’m a Fed. Only me. Everyone else,Ted is just innocent. Just let them go, Ted,” you plead, “Just let them go,”

“No!” he yells, shooting up into the ceiling of the train, “no!”

The windows are closed, but you suspect that Hotch and Gideon have the train surrounded by now. Spencer moves closer to you, staring at the man as he scratches his upper arm. He drops his hand towards yours and squeezes, like he’s saying sorry and saying goodbye all in one touch. You don’t realize this before it’s too late.

“Doctor Brier,” Spencer says, standing up with his hands near his head, “you’re right, there’s more-”

“Just make it stop!” the desperate man pleas, “Make it stop!”

“I know what it’s like, Ted. The voices, they’ve been talking to you since you were a kid. They don’t stop. I know what it’s like Ted,” Spencer says, inching closer and closer to him, “Leo? Why don’t you let him think for himself?” Spencer says, trying to use the man’s delusion against him.

“Don’t! Stop, you’re trying to trick me!” the man begs, whipping the gun around too close to Spencer’s face, “stop!”

You always listen to Spencer. Whatever he talks about, you listen. From Russian cinema to Star Trek to the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture, you listen to him. It’s not that hard and it’s easy to get lost in his eyes or the way his hands move when he talks. But the seconds leading up to when the gunshot goes off, you’re not listening.

Because without Spencer, there isn’t much worth listening to.

***

Your eyes are squeezed shut so when a large hand hovers over your shoulder you jump at the touch. It takes you all of ten seconds to realize it’s Spencer. You look him over, searching for signs of mortal wounds that will rip him from your clutches, but there isn’t any.

“You’re okay,” you say, wanting nothing more but to kiss him or yell at him, or maybe a mix of the two, “you’re okay,” you repeat, not fully believing it the first time.

“We’re okay,” Spencer says, hugging you tight as you collapse into his arms, not caring if the rest of the team watches.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Spence,” you say, breaking from the hug to caress his face. You stop, holding his face in your hands, soaking him in, “you’re not someone who gets strung along, baby. I fucking love you and you-you mean so much to me. And I hate-I hate that it took you almost dying for me to realize that,” you cry, unable to care anymore.

“You love me?” Spencer whispers, unable, himself to care that they have an audience, “You love me back, but I’m, I-I,”

“Spencer,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him fully, “I,” you plant another kiss, on his right cheek, “love,” left cheek, “you,” forehead.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, looking at you with a proud smirk, “I guess that’s good because, I love you, Y/N. I don’t go risk my life just for everyone,”

“Watch yourself, baby,” you remind him, channeling the surge of pure life that runs through your veins, “you’re in for it later, my darling,” you tell him, whispering into his ear so only he can hear.

***

You didn’t even give him time to breathe before you pushed him up against the wall. Spencer’s hands still held yours, you don’t think that he dropped them since you two safely exited the train. He whimpers through the kiss, his breathy moan only serving to spur you on. His hands broke from yours, clinging to your waist. Spencer tries to peel your clothes from your skin, but he's much too distracted by your lips that travel across his cheekbones and down to his neck. He’s breathless and panting, but you don’t let up. If he’s breathing, he’s alive and that’s all that matters now.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Spencer pleads, the desperation in his voice causing you to pause from your attack on his neck, “I-I, Y/N,” he stutters, feeling empty without your kisses.

“I’m not mad, sweet boy. I’m not mad at you,” you say, laying on a sweet voice as your fingers skim through Spencer’s hair. He’s shaking slightly and closes his eyes, looking like he’s grateful to be alive.

“You’re not, but I wasn’t good,” he whispers, “I wasn’t good for you, Mommy,”

You do everything in your power to keep your composure, but after a day like today, you’re ready to melt into him. He might be the one begging at your feet soon, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s you who's wrapped around his finger. He looks up at you, with his back leaning against the wall; his face flushed pink and marks littering his neck.

“You scared me, Spence. I thought- I just let me take care of you,” you request, dropping your hands from his hair and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him to your bedroom. You’ve made it a habit to go to your place after cases; Spencer claims that the sunlight that dips into your bedroom in the morning is more pleasant than his view of the street, but you know he just prefers your bed and the attention he gets at your place.

“Please, Y/N,” he begs, following you into the bedroom. He’s at your heels and burrowed deeply in your heart, exactly where you want him.

You drop his hands, guiding him so his knees hit the edge of your plush bed. He kicks off his shoes and starts to undo his tie and shirt, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Let me do that for you, baby. I’m taking care of you tonight,” you say, feeling your heart swell as he looks up at you adoringly, “Mommy’s got you, my brave boy,” you tell him, your fingers grazing over his cheekbones, his nose and eyes. His eyes close as you continue to draw shapeless shapes over his skin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, saying it like a pray as he relaxes for the first time today, “thank you, Mommy,”

You smile at the name, enjoying how pliant he is as you unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. His flushed cheeks lead down his equally flushed chest. You place both your legs over his body, hovering over him as you straddle him. The proximity eggs him on and the minimal friction near his pants causes him to buck up words. Mercilessly, you chuckle at his attempt to get off. You want nothing more than to put him out of his misery, but watching him squirm for the tiniest bit of affection— your affection makes you nearly as desperate as Spencer.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you tell him, harshly pulling off his shirt as you nibble on his ear. He whimpers out in desire, already unable to form coherent thoughts even though you’ve so much as kissed him.

You stop touching him, sinking down to your knees before him. Spencer looks down at you, his pupils blown and his hair messy from being pushed up against the wall. His breathing is erratic and unmeasured, but he’s heart is still beating. You smile, unafraid and not caring that it breaks character as you give his thigh a squeeze. You bring his hands to his buttons, motioning for him to unbutton his pants for you.

“I can’t do all the work now, can I, baby?” You question rhetorically, quite self satisfied that he nods eagerly. He quickly undoes his pants, kicking the heavy corduroy trousers near your bathroom door. If the moment wasn’t so tense and erratic, you probably would have teased him for his excitement.

“I want to touch you, please? Mommy” Spencer starts, his hands holding your face as you kneel. He holds your face so delicately and gently, it’s a contrast to the sinful way he’s squirming above you.

“Not yet,” you tsk, slipping your finger under the waistband of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear looks very uncomfortable, but Spencer clearly tries his best to behave under your strong stare. You peel back the underwear and let it drop to Spencer’s feet. His cock, now exposed, is painfully hard. He concentrates on his breathing and trying to remain composed as your fingers travel up his leg and towards his groin.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you coo, grabbing Spencer’s jaw and making him look down at you. He lets pitiful whine at your words, “Come on, make my fingers nice and wet,” you order, sticking out two fingers that he sucks enthusiastically.

“What a good little slut I have, you’re sucking Mommy’s fingers just as if it’s my strap, aren’t you sweet boy,” you say, gently resting your other palm loosely around his neck. You don’t apply any pressure, but let it serve as a reminder of what could happen.

Happily, Spencer sucks your fingers, moaning around them and bucking his hips up in frustration. Marred by impatience, you remove your fingers from his mouth and kneel back down on the floor. Loosely, you grip his cock with your wet fingers. Spencer whines at the friction that’s nothing close to enough.

“Tell me how that feels,” you demand, “Tell Mommy how I makes you feel,”

“I-I feel,” Spencer starts, concentrating intently, but unable to truly articulate the passion you ignite in him, “Mommy, you make me feel so good,” Spencer says, finally finding the words, even though they barely scratch the surface.

“That’s all I want, baby. You deserve to feel good. So let me take care of you, my love,” you tell him, watching as he simpers at your words.

For a second there you let yourself think that maybe it’s calling him my love that prompted his reaction, not the promise of his cock in your mouth. You know after tonight there’s no tip toeing around it anymore: you’re unequivocally in love with him and you’re a little disappointed that it took the pair of you nearly dying to figure it out finally.

Looking back up at him, you abandon your plans for a moment. You kiss him hard. Normally, you’d hate the way your teeth clash against someone else’s and how the kiss isn’t really a kiss. It’s hard to pace yourself when he’s whimpering below you as you grind down hard on his crotch. The fabric of your pants provides much needed friction, causing Spencer to cry out in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. He paws at your work short, silently begging for you to shed your layers as well.

“Good boys wait,” you tell him, kissing his forehead and sinking back down for the last time. You’ll never be done teasing him, but for now you intend to put his needs first.

“Such a pretty cock that only I get to see,” you coo, running a finger up his length, relishing in how he shudders at your touch. You’ve touched him so many times, yet he reacts each time as if it’s the first. He’s leaking precum as his breathing becomes more and more strained. This is far from your first time with Spencer and you’re well aware of the signs of his release.

Smiling up at him, you lazily wrap your hand around him, giving him the smallest bit of friction and attention that he needs to come. You drop him once he’s close to the edge, his pleading, begging eyes turning glazed over when he realizes you’re taking off your shirt. By the way he’s looking at you, you’d think you’d be wearing your best lingerie. Quickly, you’ve learned that with Spencer you could be wearing your ratty college tee shirts and he’d still look at you like you were dripping in gold.

“Mommy,” he pleads, “I’m a good boy,” he says, no trying to convince himself to hold back from his release, “please Mommy. I’m gonna-“ Spencer says, the flush on his face deepening as he throws his head back in ecstasy. However, he summons enough energy and will to reach out and palm your boobs. You don’t hide your moans as he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. It only encourages him, but nowhere can you find in yourself to care.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Spencer whimpers, unable to hold himself up anymore and collapsing on the bed. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to collect himself. He comes all over your chest, staining your lavender bralette and looking very proud of himself. Spencer learned quickly as well that coming before you’ve even touched him earns him quite the praise.

“Such a good boy,” you praise, choosing to ignore him coming without permission, “such a messy boy though,” you chastise, squeezing his thigh and crawling your fingers up his chest.

“Mommy, please, I want to make you feel good too. I love you,” Spencer begs, his eyes droopy with exhaustion from the long day and glazed over with his orgasm. His words slur together as if he's drunk off something potent. His eyes meet yours, but flit down quickly. He scans your soiled chest, licking his lips unconsciously as his eyes rank over your breasts covered in the lavender lacy and stained with his cum.

“Do you know what good boys do?” You ask, expecting Spencer to answer the question without hesitation.

“They clean up their mess, Mommy,” he says. In a moment of bravery, he grabs your hand, guiding you to lay down on the bed. He twists his hands around your back, unlatching your bra from your body and tosses it on the ground.

Above you, Spencer lowers his face so his chin barely grazes your chest. His tongue darts out onto your skin, licking up the messy cum that fell on your chest. You place your hands in his hair, gripping firmly. It’s not hard enough to cause any pain, but it’s tight enough to remind him to stay put. Spencer hums contently, lapping up your chest, but keeping his eyes trained on yours. You pull him up by his hair, pieces fall over his blissed out eyes. He smiles up at you, his chin glistening with cum, but looking pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, pulling him up to kiss him deeply. His tongue swirls around in yours and his large hands cup your face. You can feel him moving in your lap, more and more desperate for attention and friction as you continue to hold him off, “I love you, baby,” you say, hoping that he’ll hear enough times for it to stick and for him to start living his life like he wants to stay alive.

“Just for you, Mommy,” Spencer mumbles, already sucking and marking the valley between your breasts, “Can you? Please?” Spencer asks, still embarrassed, after all these months to put to words his desires.

“What, baby? You need to use your words,” you tell him, scooting up in the bed and smirking to yourself as Spencer practically chases you up the headboard, “You need to tell him what you want me to do, baby,” you say, talking slowly as you rub circles into his skin. He’s still hot to the touch and flushed all over.

“I want to make you feel good,” Spencer begs, licking his fiery red lips that are swollen and bitten from your earlier treatment, “I want you to feel good,” he says, attempting to buck his hips against your legs.

“Are you sure about that, Spence?” you ask, teasing him with your wandering hands. One stays latching in his hair, exposing his criminally bare neck and the other sneaks down to his cock, but hardly satisfies his burning need, “Because it seems like you’re an insolent little slut who only cares if he gets off. Do I need to remind you that I have needs as well,” you chide, increasing your grip on his hair as your lips nip the sensitive skin of his neck. He shudders in response, unable to fully articulate a sentence.

“But you’re lucky, you’re beautiful, Dr. Reid,” you say, dropping his hair and letting his head fall onto your chest. Knowing your expectations, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to kiss and nip along your skin. You feel your panties dampen at the sight of him: his hair wild and messy, his neck marked with evidence of your mouth, and his chest is bright red, somehow still flustered and embarrassed by your affections. You find it bizarre that he still doesn’t fully believe just how head over heels you are for him. He’s too good and pure for this world, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life reminding him just how deserving of goodness and pureness he is.

“I love you,” Spencer whimpers against your skin, his breath is hot as he pants, “but please fuck me,” he begs, flipping around on his back so you can be on top.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy, Mommy will take care of you,” you remind him, balancing yourself so you can hover over him, “Now, I’d normally want you to be quiet, but I want to hear everything. So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me how you feel, sweetie,” you instruct, maneuvering yourself so you’re lined up with him.

“Give me a second, please,” Spencer asks, pushing himself up so his back rests against the headboard, “You make me crazy, I just need a moment to think,” he says, quietly, staring off nothing in the bedroom. You take the opportunity to grab his hand, that’s gripping onto your floral patterned sheets, and kiss his scars on his knuckles. Some are new and fresh, while others are old, from longer ago than working at the BAU. You kiss them over, as if your lips are able to help the evidence of his physical pain.

“You make me crazy too, Spencer,” You say, growing more and more unhinged as he moves underneath you, “I love you so much, darling,” you tell him, kissing his eyes, lips, nose, anything you can reach.

Slowly, so slowly, you sink down onto Spencer. You watch his microexpressions, but you know how he’ll react. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s willing himself to hold off. He breathes in and out, teetering on the edge. You wait for his nod, for his sign of approval that you can move. He whines and peeks open his eyes. Spencer’s hands dig into your waist, his strong, large hands searching for any skin to grab onto.

“Please move, Mommy,” Spencer begs, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to plead with you to have mercy on him, “I need it, Mommy,” he moans.

“Don’t be greedy, darling. You’ll take what I give you, but don’t you want to make me feel good too, baby,” you ask, guiding his nimble fingers to your slick core. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you feel the pressure build. Between the heightened tensions of work and Spencer's hot breath against your neck, you know that you’ll come soon. Spencer’s breathy moans get more and more desperate.

“Are you already going to come again, love?” You ask, increasing your pace. His other hand grips your thigh, drawing shapes into your soft skin. Following suit, you match his sweet movements on his cheek. His breath is his shaky as you stroke his cheek lovingly, “Make me come first and then, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me,” you promise, already knowing that you’ll let him come inside you.

“Watch you disappear inside me, baby. Watch your pretty cock slip inside my pussy. It’s just like you were made for me, darling,” you cry, your voice getting slightly breathy yourself. You watch yourself as his cock goes in and out, red with overstimulation. Spencer’s eyes, littered with small tears, looks transfixed.

“Fuck,” Spencer says, “I’m so close, Mommy. I-I, you make me feel so good. You’re so beautiful, I-I-”

“So needy, you’re so fucking needy,” you say to him. You can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the moment. His hands lurch towards your chest, pawing at your boobs. Spencer’s sloppy movements bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“So good, so good,” he repeats, his sweaty forehead rests on your collarbone. You pull him up again his hair, relishing in the pitiful moan that he lets out. It’s raw and pure sin, it should make you want to fuck him more, but it only makes you want to love him more.

You’re drunk on him. Drunk on his moans and whimpers of pleasure. You’re drunk on the way his skin sticks to yours and how his hands roam around your body, always finding a spot on your torso and legs that makes you approach the edge closer and closer. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being too hard on him. If you should just whisper that little sentence and let Spencer feel the wave of pleasure.

“I need it, Mommy,” Spencer pants, kissing lined up your chest and collarbone. His face is pressed up against your face and moves up and down as you continue your pace, “I-I, Mommy, I want you to-”

“What do you want, baby? Hmm? Tell Mommy?” You ask, your voice sounding sickly sweet. The noise of moans fills the room, Spencer’s moan akin to whimpers and whines and your’s more like praises and words of approval, “you’ve been such a good boy, baby I’ll give you want whatever you want, my love”

“Please, please let me make you come, Mommy. I need you to come, Mommy. I need it,” Spencer whines, looking up into your eyes and latching onto them in the darkness.

It’s sinful how the filthy words contrast with his sweet, shy tones. He looks so innocent, but enthralling with his face between your hands, but his own hands rubbing small circles on your clit. His moans grow more high pitched. You kiss by his ear, ready to whisper the words of approval that you’ve neared your release.

“Oh god, Spencer. God. You have no idea what you do to me. My sweet boy,” you murmur, pressing Spencer’s face further into your chest. You can feel him heave and his breathing grow more and more unsteady, but he still has enough sense to continue rubbing your clit.

You kiss him, wanting to feel him everywhere when you come undone. Kissing him is desperate and full of gasps of air. His skin is so soft as you slide across his mouth, up his cheeks, and over his jaw. His helpless moans spur you on, giving you the strength and energy to thrust down on him another time before you feel yourself come undone.

“It’s your turn, baby. Come on, sweetheart. Come inside me and maybe I’ll have to call you daddy? Hmm?” you chant, halting your movements to torture him a little longer.

“Please, Y/N. Please let me fill you up,” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being so vocal, “I’m yours. I love you so much,” he calls out, wrapping his arms around you so your chests are pressed up together. He holds you sweetly and you kiss his shoulders and his neck, choosing to leave a large red welt as a reminder for him.

“You like that? Hmm you like if I call you Daddy and let you fill me up? Come on, Spencer. You can come. Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?,” you say, giving him the permission that he’s been desiring all night.

He tightens his grip on your upper half as he meets his release. Spencer’s strangled moans turn into sweet whimpers as he looks down into your laps. Quietly, you ride him through the rest of his orgasm, letting him come down from his high peppered with light pecks along his freckled shoulders and sharp jawline. Spencer smiles into the kisses, his eyes are shut and his cheeks are dusted with a light pink flush. For the first time today, he looks relaxed and safe.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Spencer says quietly, mirroring your motions and kissing your shoulders and neck as you slow your pace, “Can we stay like this. Just for a moment,” Spencer asks, burning for the feeling of being inside you for even a couple more minutes.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him, squeezing him into a tight hug, “you did so wonderful for me. Such a good boy. I love my sweet boy,” you tell him, brushing the stray hairs from his face. His neck is marked by your mouth and his eyes are glazed with sleep and desire.

“I love you,” Spencer says again, his forehead falling against yours and his breath hitching as you move slightly with him inside you, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about today,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart and then we’ll talk about it,” you suggest, taking the opportunity to kiss his lips as you pull yourself away from his lap.

Spencer doesn’t say much in response, but nods silently. He groans slightly as you separate your bodies and he tries to chase your lips with his as you climb out of the bed and into your bathroom.

“Please come back,” Spencer says, sounding like he wasn’t sure if you’d keep your promise.

“I’m right here, Spence,” you reassure him, returning from the bathroom dressed in an old tee shirt and carrying a warm, damp washcloth and a pair of clean underwear for Spencer.

“Can you please hold me? Please, Y/N. I need you,” Spencer says, reaching out to you in the dark. That’s one request you know you’d never deny.

“Of course, Spence. Just let me clean you up and I’ll hold you,” you tell him, gently dragging the warm towel over his skin. He’s quiet as you clean him up, but his soulful eyes look lost and sheepish, making him look smaller and more vulnerable than he actually is. You drop the towel to the floor, not caring that the water isn’t good for the floor.

You lay back down on the bed and Spencer, like a magnet to another magnet, crawls in close. He’s still undressed, except for the underwear that you gave him. His eyes are droopy and his breathing is still shaky, but steadies out as your hands draw circles on his back. You pull the covers up to his chin, making sure he’s covered before you start what you know all too well is a difficult conversation.

“Spencer,” you croak, “Why did you do that? Why do you think that’s okay?” you ask, still trying to make sense of why Spencer would risk his life like that so recklessly. You hold him tighter, squeezing his arm as he breathes out, ready to tell you what he’s never told anyone before.

“Bec-, because- I don’t matter,” he says, the words choking out between cries of years and years of pain, “because it doesn’t matter to anyone if I don’t come home. I don’t have anyone to come home to,”

“You’ve always had me,” you say quietly, “I’m your person to come home with, Spence,” you tell him, hoping with all the faith in your body that he’ll believe you. You hold his hand, weaving your fingers in his. Looking at your hands intertwined together, you’d think that your hand was made for it. It’s a little cliche, but Spencer is the kind of man that makes all those cliches seem like wonderful possibilities.

“I-I, I never had someone before,” Spencer says, “I mean, I had my mom, but it’s gotten harder. But then, then, I met you. And I never thought you’d like me like that, Y/N. I never thought you could love me,”

“Spencer,” you say, twisting around so you can hold his face in your hands, “Spencer, I love you. You are so much more than your job. You’re worthy of being loved, Goose. And I’d spend the rest of my life making you realize this”

“You want to spend the rest of your life- the rest of your life with me?” Spencer asks, sounding like he can’t believe the words that you say.

“Spence, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” you say, dragging your hands through his curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, “You would have realized that if you weren’t too carried away with making me your future history,”

“I think I have a habit of doing that,” Spencer confesses, kissing your forehead sweetly, “You’re- I’m sorry that I worried you like that, but for so long, for so long this is all I’ve had. And before that it was school. I throw myself into academia or work because it’s all I had,”

“Had,” you repeat, “as in the past tense. You’ve had some much more than too, Spence. We all love you. Elle and Derek. JJ and Hotch. Penny and Gideon. We all love you, but I love you the most,”

“Good,” Spencer replies, turning his head down to kiss you, “because I love you the most,”

His lips glide across yours, moving slowly at first and faster as he grows more urgent. There’s no sense in rushing through. You could kiss him lazily in your bed all night and continue until it gives way to morning. There’s no time limit, no buzzer that’s going to go off and force Spencer to whole himself back up into his past. He smiles through the kiss, knowing well that there’s more to come tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. His lips were warm and soft, maybe still a little tender from before, but still eager to feel your lips against his. Breathing together, savoring that you both are breathing, you smile yourself, fully ready for whatever comes next.

***

Taglist (not my usual taglist because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable bc this is smut. You can join the taglist here!)

@shemarmooresfedora @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @spencersrose @strawberryspence

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #no minors #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut fic #spencer reid x fem reader #sub spencer reid #derailed #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #no minors please

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pastelracha · 3 years

Text

Pregnancy with Felix

☾ Title : Pregnancy with Felix

☾ Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

☾ Genre: fluff, established relationship, pregnangcy

☾ Prompt: just a head canon of pregnancy with our Brownie boy.

☾ A/N: request : by @skzruletheworld,Can you do pregnancy with Felix :) don’t forget to give me your feed back guys xox

☾ Other : Chan’s version : ☾

☾ Word Count: 0.547K

masterlist | ask or request

Your pregnancy was the best thing in Felix’s life.

Always talking about how excited he is to finally going to have his own kid.

“Like they’re gonna be best friends, just like Chan and I’’ about your future child and Chan’s kid.

Painting the nursery in like light grey or a beige. And decided to decorate by himself to surprise you.

Also have the full SZKOO collection.

Already in love with this small and fragile life you guys created together.

Read stories to your belly every nights.

Went all soft when you called him on FaceTime to show him, your baby kicks.

Legit had tears in his eyes, cause he was working.

Took amazing pictures of your big belly during a walk at Han River, it’s his home screen since then.

Like to draws on your belly, like cloud, hearts, or even a face on it.

Just like Chan cried when you guys learned it was a baby boy.

Announced your pregnancy with “Is mini SKZ version a thing now ?’’

Have a photo of your first ultrasound in his wallet as a lucky charm.

Help you to shave your legs when your belly is too big for you to do so yourself.

Bake you cookies and brownies cause he gotta feed his kid.

Always has a hand on your bump, to protect his little one, to caress it, or just like that.

Look bad at people asking you if they can touch your bump. Protective mode : ON asf

Loving how you now live in his shirts cause it’s comfy.

Bought an oversized white teddy bear for the nursery.

Counting the days until he will meet his boy.

Ask advice to his parents, and chan about all this parenting things, sometimes worrying about being a good dad.

“ Like mate, you’re gonna be one of the best dad out there’’ Chan’s words

Cried the first time he heard the heartbeat.

Realized, yes he is really going to be a father.

Drop everything when you send a photo of your belly, or if you call him.

Always happy when Stays ask about his little one. “He is growing well, he is healthy and I can’t wait to see him’’

Is with you at every pregnancy classes thingy.

“Can you please go faster, my wife here is creating life so we don’t really have time’’ in Starbucks line, cause you are his first priority.

Tell you to go sit, he will order for both of you.

“Lix you know I’m not sick or made of glass, ‘I’m just pregnant’’

“And i want the best for my child, so go sit love please’’

Don’t fight him, you will loose! Will fight the all world for his kid.

Rub your belly at every chance he got, watching tv ? Felix will be rubbing your belly.

Have a list of thing he was to do with his child. (Baking, football, going to beach in Australia, going to the zoo, having father and son dates, ..)

And you’re like : chill he isn’t even born.

Extra uncles are back! Watch Changbin speaking his weird aegyo language to your belly, at bbq night. (And chan’s wife being like : it did to mine when I was pregnant too)

Just imagine Felix as a dad, my heart melt.

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twdeadfanfic · 3 years

Text

Outsider Pt.2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl’s been out of Alexandria for two years, mourning the loss of Rick, looking for him, unable to go back to his family, when his dog finds a woman in one of his traps at the outside of his camp, a woman badly hurt, seeming about to pass out, looking more ghost than person…

…she’s been running away from a group that was more than bad news, having survived on her own for years, wary and afraid of groups after being mistreated by people, until she’s found by a stranger with blue eyes and a cute dog, a stranger that for once, might be a good person, someone willing to help, someone she can trust…

This has both Daryl’s and Reader’s POV in third person.

You can find more chapters and fics on my masterlist.

N/A: I wrote the first four chapters of this before season 10 was released, which means, this doesn’t follow, and won’t follow, what was made canon for Daryl’s life in the woods in 10x18 episode. I had abandoned this fic after that episode was released, but decided to go back to write it, I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless.

You woke up with a groan, looking around confused, and even though you felt better, you were still weak, and your ankle shot a wave of pain through you when you moved it.

Dog wasn’t near you anymore, but when you looked outside the tent, you saw Daryl sat down on the big log, throwing sticks at the dog. Daryl glanced in your direction and he noticed that you were awake, so he got up and walked to you, Dog following him.

“Hey,” Daryl awkwardly greeted as he crouched down near you, and you nodded at him, awkward too, but you couldn’t help your giggle when Dog jumped on you and began licking your face. “Dog, come on, let her breathe,” Daryl said, smiling, as he tugged Dog away from you. “Feelin’ better?”

You nodded again and looked outside at the position of the sun. “How long did I slept?”

“Almost a day,” Daryl answered and you looked at him wide-eyed.

“A day?!”

“Yeah…” Daryl chuckled quietly. “Ya needed it.”

“I guess…” You murmured, looking down and petting Dog.

Daryl studied you while you were looking at Dog. You looked better, less like a ghost, but after what you had gone through, he knew you should rest more and get your strength back. You could do that in Hilltop, they’d take care of you…he should talk about it with you, though he wasn’t sure of how you were going to react. Before, though, he should feed you again.

“Come on, ya gotta eat somethin’, okay?” He told you and you nodded, you had just woken up but you were starting to feel hungry already again. Daryl helped you to get up and you groaned, hurting, leaning into him for support as he helped you to limp to the log and then to sit down. “There ya go…”

“Thanks…” You said quietly and Daryl nodded, giving you half a smile before passing you a water bottle, from which you drank greedily, and then he went to reheat some more stew over the fire. “I’m eating all your food…”

“It’s okay,” Daryl shrugged. “I had to go huntin’ soon anyway.”

“I can hunt a bit…I’m not too good…” You tried to awkwardly make conversation. “Most times I use traps…not like yours, though.”

“Yeah…told ya, those ain’t for animals…I don’t like huntin’ with traps,” Daryl said and you nodded, you didn’t know what else to say, and soon, Daryl was bringing you a big bowl of stew that you devoured, so fast that you almost surprised yourself.

“Thanks…it’s good…” You said shyly.

“Do ya want another one?” Daryl asked, and you were sure you could eat another, but you shook your head, a bit self-conscious. “Okay, maybe later.”

You nodded in silence, you weren’t good at making conversation, even if you were surprised at how at ease you felt around Daryl. You looked around at his camp, which seemed so complex in some ways but some simple in others. “How long have you been here?” You asked.

“Couple of years, why?”

A couple of years…that was no little. “Nothing just…looks very professional…guess it’s normal if you have been here for so long…” You said awkwardly, wondering why you had to be so bad with words most of the time, and Daryl looked at you, arching an eyebrow, but you just shrugged. “But what happened to your tent?”

Daryl frowned at you. “What ya mean?”

“Nothing, just….nothing…” You bit your lip, wishing you had thought your words, you didn’t want to offend Daryl.

“What?” Daryl kept frowning and you shrugged.

“Just…it’s just…doesn’t seem like much protection against the elements…” You explained, still worried about offending Daryl. Maybe he hadn’t been able to find a better fabric or a better tent, but he looked so resourceful, you only had to look around the camp to see it…

But looking around the camp too, it seemed like he didn’t care at all for comfort or anything like that, even the most basics like not getting cold or wet. He could even use some of those pelts that he had hanging around to cover part of the ground where he sat down, also to cover the fabric of the tent, making it more protective, and the plain ground under that fabric, where he slept…

“Didn’t mean anything bad…just…wondering about the colder days…and the rain and that…” You shrugged before you managed to stop your mouth.

“Protects me enough…” Daryl muttered. It was true, but you also were right, the cold and rain hit him sometimes…but he couldn’t be bothered about it, it was a good enough tent and a good enough camp, it covered the basic needs, he didn’t need any fuss or luxury.

Deep down, Daryl thought that he deserved that, the cold, the rain soaking him, the hard ground under him, being wet and cold in winter, and the loneliness that he felt even though he would never admit it, and that even though now Dog helped to chase, still hurt his heart when he thought about his family and missed them.

You nodded awkwardly in silence, afraid of saying something wrong. Dog was near you again, and you reached out to pet him and stroke the fur behind his ears.

Daryl glanced at you, wondering if you were asking all that because you had been cold that night, but you seemed to have slept like a log, you needed it. He had noticed you mumbling things once, as if having a nightmare, but not even that had woken you up.

You would sleep better at the Hilltop anyway…He had to tell you about it, but he didn’t know how, even if that had been his job years ago, when he went out to help people and bring them to safety with Aaron. He looked at you chewing on his thumb while you just pet Dog.

“Look, uh…Y/N…” You didn’t look up from the dog, but Daryl kept talking. “There’s a settlement, a little bit more than a day walkin’…” He hoped he was right on trusting you enough to give you that information, and you looked at him with scared eyes at that.

A settlement? Maybe Daryl had run away from them? Maybe they were dangerous? Daryl noticed your scared look, and he rushed to ease your fears.

“No, uh, don’t worry, they’re good people, and they’re my friends, good friends.”

You looked at him suspiciously. “If they are your friends what are you doing living here and not with them?”

You had thought that Daryl was someone you could trust, but him living away like that, alone in the middle of the woods, with a tent made of a threadbare piece of fabric with even holes in it, while claiming to have friends in a settlement…it didn’t make sense.

You wondered if he was actually trying something…maybe you were just about to get kidnapped for another group of lunatics…but he had kept you safe while you slept, took care of you…you didn’t know what to think…

“I lived there for a while…” Daryl shrugged, looking down. He missed his family every day, but he also thought every day about why he didn’t live in Alexandria or Hilltop anymore, on what he had done, about Rick…

“Why you don’t anymore?” You were still suspicious, but something had gone through Daryl’s eyes, something you couldn’t catch, but he’d seemed hurt, and you wondered what that meant. Did they cast him away? Had Daryl done something?

Daryl glanced at you before looking down again, he wasn’t about to talk about that.

“Ya…uh…ya said ya ain’t good in groups, uh? That ya liked it better to be on yer own?” You nodded and Daryl shrugged. “So do I…but the people in there, told ya, they’re my friends, good friends, promise…” He didn’t want to give you the wrong impression, he wanted to take you with them after all, and he didn’t want you to be scared. “But, uh…yeah…I like to be on my own…so I go tradin’ with them a couple of times a year…” He waved around the camp and to the hanging pelts. “That’s good enough…”

That way, he also could see that everyone was okay, and he could see Michone, Judith, and RJ, even if every visit made his heart hurt and made him want to cry, especially when Judith asked him to stay.

You looked at Daryl, and you felt like that wasn’t all, but you still didn’t feel like he was trying to trick you or hurt you…you hoped you were right… even if all this didn’t make much sense…

You could understand the desire to be on his own, though, but the way he talked about those people, his voice…it sounded like he had belonged with them, like he cared for them, and for a second he had seems so sad… it didn’t add to him keeping himself away, in the middle of the woods, alone with a dog in a world of flesh-eating monsters…

There had to be a reason, another reason, but you knew that Daryl wouldn’t tell you, and no matter that you tried to stay suspicious, you still couldn’t see any threat coming from Daryl, just that sadness, that soon he was trying to conceal...

“So…those people are my friends, and I don’t like that the people who tried to hurt ya are close, yeah?” Daryl asked, trying to shake away his sadness and hurt at the thought of his family, going back to what mattered now. You nodded, you could understand that. “And, ya said that they have those women and kids there…my people and I, we can help them, we can stop the people that took ya.”

“How?”

“We’ve fought bad people before, big groups of assholes who attacked us, who hurt people,” Daryl explained to you. The Saviors, Terminus…the Governor was still an arrow to the heart, Daryl didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling guilty about that, and the loss of the prison and part of his family was heavy in his heart.

“Okay…” You didn’t know what to say as you looked at Daryl, wondering once again who the hell this man was, and that people of his that he talked about but that he had left behind. “But they’re dangerous.”

“We’re more than them.” By what you had told him, Daryl had no doubt about that. “We can do it…we gotta, I don’t want them near my people and we have to help those women and kids, yeah?” You nodded at that even if you still were a bit insecure. “Okay, so can ya tell me somethin’ more about them?”

You shook your head, chewing on your lip. “No, I told you all I know…I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Daryl reassured you softly. “Do ya think ya can point on a map where they are?”

“I…uh…no…” You shook your head again, feeling a bit useless. Even if you wouldn’t have been running through the woods with no direction, you had been unconscious when they brought you to their camp. “But…but the sun was rising when I ran away and I was leaving it behind, so it was at the east.” You said and Daryl nodded. “But then I ran through the woods without knowing where I was going, so…” You shrugged again.

“Okay, thanks.” Daryl nodded, frowning in thought. They’ll try the east, could take the walkies, make teams to cover more area…

“You’re going for them, then?” You asked, taking Daryl away from his thoughts, and he nodded. “Okay…they deserve it…” You didn’t know Daryl’s people, you could only take his word when he said that they were good people, but you knew for sure that the ones who had kidnapped you weren’t.

You went back to pet Dog, trying not to think much about everything, and Daryl looked at you. He wanted to ask you to go to Hilltop and stay there safe, but he wasn’t sure of what you were going to think, after you had told him that you didn’t like groups, and it seemed like you hadn’t had the best luck with those.

“Hey, Y/N…” Daryl called your name but you didn’t look at him, eyes still on Dog. “My people, they’re good people, I told ya. Their settlement is big, protected with walls, they got crops, cattle, housin’…” He explained, trying to paint it as good as possible. “Most of the people there are good friends. They’d take ya in, help ya with your ankle, they got a real doctor, and after yer ankle heals, ya can still stay there, okay?”

You looked at Daryl and began shaking your head, you couldn’t help yourself, even if it sounded good, even if Daryl promised that they were good people and good friends, and you trusted him somehow, but the idea of having to face another group, and one which sounded as big as that, was overwhelming. It stirred your anxiety and it took the best of you, almost making you panic at the idea.

“No, no, I don’t want to, I…” You shook your head again, looking around like a cornered animal. “No…”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay.” Daryl could see that you were freaking out but he didn’t know what to do. “Ya don’t have to, but…I just think that it’d be better, because-”

“No.” You didn’t let him finish, getting up, feeling too much like a trapped animal, too overwhelmed, the part of you who wanted to run away, you didn’t know where, was winning, making you try to walk, and when you put weight on your feet, your ankle shot a wave of pain through your leg, making you cry out and fall down onto the log again.

“Y/N, hey, it’s okay,” Daryl tried to calm you down, almost freaking out himself. “Ya don’t wanna go, then ya don’t have to go, alright?” You looked at him and swallowed hard, you felt a bit embarrassed at your reaction, but you couldn’t help it. “I just think it’d be a better place…I can take ya on the bike, ya won’t have to walk…”

You shook your head again, but then something dawned on you. “You don’t want me here…” You said quietly…Daryl was a loner, away even from his own group of people that he cared about, and you had stumbled into that solitude of him. “This is your camp and I…I get it…I’ll leave…” Just not to a settlement, you’ll be on your own again, as always, better like that.

“Y/N.” Daryl gave you a stern look as if he were about to scold you and you looked down. “Ya can’t leave. Ya can’t walk.” He was right, but you just shrugged. “Ya’d be better at Hilltop, but ya don’t wanna go? Then yer staying here.” Whether you liked it or not, you couldn’t leave, not while your ankle couldn’t support you. He’d still try to convince you that you’d be safe in Hilltop, but Daryl didn’t want you to freak out again.

“You don’t mind it?” You asked.

“No. At all.” Daryl assured you, trying to sound firm. Sure, it was strange to have someone in his camp, especially someone he didn’t know, but you seemed like a good enough person and it didn’t feel hard to be around you, and over everything, he wasn’t going to let you try to leave with your ankle like that. Even after your ankle healed, he’d still try to convince you to not leave on your own again.

“Okay…okay, thanks.”

“Ain’t nothin’, just…The Hilltop, they got food, housin’, a doctor…” He tried again softly and once again you shook your head. “Okay…but ya’d be safer. I wanna go tell them about that group of assholes, ya’d be stayin’ here alone with yer ankle like that, maybe for a couple of days…” He explained…Daryl didn’t like to leave you alone in the woods when you couldn’t walk and much less run from danger, even if he knew his camp was as safe as a camp in the woods could get. “Ya’d be safer in the settlement.”

“Your camp is safe…you told me so…” You understood what Daryl was saying, he was right and still…still the idea of facing that big group felt like too much. “With the wire and the traps and all…”

“Not safer than the Hilltop…”

“I don’t want to go…” You said weakly, swallowing hard.

“Okay…okay.” Daryl let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, wincing when it got tangled on the knots. “I wanted to leave already.” He was still more than reluctant to leave you there, but the sooner he left, the sooner they could deal with everything, and for now it seemed that he could only get you to Hilltop if he tied to you the bike. “I’ll leave Dog here.” The dog could warn you if a threat was around, he could take care of you in his own way, and keep you company, Daryl knew that Dog helped you to feel more at ease.

“Okay.” You nodded and reached to pet Dog, giving Daryl a small but grateful small. “Thanks…” You said but Daryl just shrugged, looking down. “Really, Daryl, thank you. For everything.”

“Ain’t doin’ nothin’ anybody else wouldn’t…” Daryl shrugged again, your gratitude making him shy.

“You are…most people wouldn’t have done half of what you’re doing for me.” Maybe you hadn’t had the best experience with people, but you felt like that. “Hell…there’re people who would have done pretty much anything to me besides helping me…”

“Yeah…” Daryl nodded, frowning…you were right, there were all kind of assholes in the world, he knew it well…but there would be a group less of assholes around once he was done dealing with the one who had kidnapped you. “Anyway…I found ya this while ya were asleep.”

Daryl walked to the side of the camp, bringing back a big stick that you could use as some sort of can. You still wouldn’t be able to move fast at all, but it was better than nothing, Daryl supposed.

“Thanks…” You got up and took the stick, a bit unsure about your ability with it. You tried to use it to help you walk, but putting weight in your ankle made you hiss and curse in pain. You tried to use it to help you limp with just one food and you wobbled a bit. “Woah…”

“Careful…” Daryl rushed to hold your arm, steading you, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit clumsy and embarrassed.

It took you a bit, but finally you got the hang of it and didn’t wobble that much. You looked at Daryl and he gave you a nod and a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Alright…I gotta leave,” Daryl told you when he was surer that you could move with the stick without falling and hurting yourself. “Stay here, okay?” He knew that you could barely move with the ankle like that, but part of him still feared that you might just leave on your own.

“Can’t go far…” You shrugged…you were good on your own, but you had to admit that the idea of being alone when you could not only run but not even walk, didn’t sound too appealing.

“Yeah…ya gotta be careful with that ankle, okay? Or it won’t heal properly and ya’ll hurt yerself more.” Daryl reminded you and you nodded. “There’s stew on the pot that ya can reheat, okay? And more dried meat on the bag.” Daryl told you and you nodded again, grateful. “Ya gotta feed Dog too, or he’ll feed himself and won’t leave ya anythin’”

You smirked at that. “Okay.”

“Also, he’ll tell ya if there are walkers on the traps…” Daryl looked at the outside of the camp, frowning. He wasn’t sure what would be better, you putting those down with your ankle like that, or waiting for him, he thought that probably the traps would hold the walkers for some time, but he wasn’t sure how long…

“Okay.” You nodded. “I can put them down.”

“Ya sure?” Daryl kept frowning, glancing at your ankle.

“Yeah…they’ll be trapped, I’m sure I can handle it even like this.” At least you hoped so.

“Alright…” Daryl’s frown didn’t disappear. “Just…be careful, okay?” You nodded. “And use anythin’ ya need around the camp, it’s okay, just take what ya need…there’re some magazines in the tent if yer are bored or somethin’…”

“Thank you again, Daryl, really…” You were still surprised that you had stumbled into someone who seemed one of the very few good people in the world, Daryl’s help made you feel a bit shy, and you didn’t know how to compensate it.

Daryl just shrugged, your gratitude making him feel shy too, and he began getting a bag ready. “Alright…I gotta go…” Daryl turned to face you but he just glanced at you quickly and then he looked down, chewing on his thumb. “Ya really should come.” You didn’t say anything, you knew it would be sensible, but you still couldn’t make yourself go, and so you just looked down, and you heard Daryl letting out a sigh. “Okay…told ya, I don’t think I’ll be back until a couple of days at least, alright?” You nodded. “Be careful.”

“You too…” After all, it was him who was traveling, and who was going to face the group of dangerous assholes that had kidnapped you.

Daryl nodded and then bent down to pet Dog’s head. “Ya gotta say here, okay Dog? Stay here at the camp with Y/N, alright?” Dog wiggled his tail, and you petted him when Daryl moved away and looked at you again. “Alright…gotta go.”

You nodded and with a last look at you, Daryl began dragging his bike away from the camp. You watched him leave, and after he opened the wire around the camp, dragged the bike through it, and closed it securely again, Daryl turned to look at you and give you an awkward wave. You waved back awkwardly too, and Daryl got into his bike and rode away.

Once Daryl rode away, you looked around the camp, unsure about what to do with yourself. Dog had been watching Daryl as he left, but now he turned to look at you. “Alright Dog, it’s you and me…but we gotta be fine.” You had to admit that you liked to have Dog there with you, making you feel better, and even if you were used to be alone, you got lonely sometimes, and you were glad that you had Dog’s company, especially with your ankle like that and after what you had gone through. “I’m sure your Person will be back soon, sound and safe.”

You hoped so…you felt a bit anxious, worried about Daryl. It surprised you, since you had just met him, but he seemed like a good guy, he had helped you in every way he could, and he had gotten out of his way to take care of you…so, yes, you worried about him. He seemed able to take care of himself, but you worried nonetheless…

You remembered that he had said something about magazines, and maybe reading could help you to ease your mind and distract you, and so you leaned on your new can and awkwardly limped and wobbled to the tiny tent, kneeling inside so you could crawl without putting weight on your ankle.

You felt awkward about going through Daryl’s things, even if he had told you to help yourself to anything you needed, and he didn’t seem to have much, but still, it felt intrusive to rummage through his belongings. You spotted a couple of magazines and a book at one corner of the tent, you hadn’t noticed them before since they were under some trinkets and half-carved arrows.

You reached to pick them up. Both of them were old magazines about bikes, and the book was a manual about mechanics. You didn’t know what you had been expecting, but it suited Daryl. You had no idea about bikes, but you guessed that at the very least you could look at the pictures…and if you got really bored, maybe you could even try to learn something basic about mechanics…probably it was hard, but it was a useful skill nonetheless.

There was an open notebook under all the trinkets too, the page showing some scribbles and doodles of bike parts and arrows. You wondered if Daryl used it to take notes when he read the manual…or if maybe he had just gotten distracted while studying it and doodled absentmindedly.

It was cute either way, and you took the notebook too, hoping that Daryl wouldn’t mind it if you used some pages of it. You enjoyed writing, both journaling but also writing your own stories, and you’d lost your notebook when you’d been kidnapped, along with the rest of your things. It’d be nice to be able to write down daydreams and ideas, since it seemed you couldn’t do much with your ankle like that.

You almost fell down trying to limp with your cane while holding everything with the other hand, wobbling, and you swore that Dog gave you the same frowned, concerned look as Daryl…maybe you had been alone for too long… “I’m okay…” You murmured to the dog, limping your way to the big log near the campfire and sitting down, opening one of the magazines and swiping through it, trying not to think on Daryl and what was he headed to do.

You had to wait for Daryl for almost three days, in which you didn’t do much but limp around, try to put weight on your ankle every few times only to always see that it hadn’t gotten fixed magically, take care of Dog, get stressed thinking that you both were going to get attacked out of the blue and you couldn’t even walk, look at the pictures of bikes and even read a bit of the manual, and write a bit here and there…

You tried not to stress much. You knew that your ankle was not broken and that it would get better eventually, even if you still couldn’t help but check if it was already okay several times a day, no matter that you knew that it was not a quick process. You tried not to worry much about Daryl, but you did, especially after the first day and more after two nights passed.

Sure, you didn’t know him, but if something had happened to him at the hands of the assholes who had kidnapped you, you felt a bit responsible. Also, Daryl was a good guy, or at least he seemed to be, so you didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, no matter you had just met him.

Besides, the guy had a dog…what if something had happened to him? Dog would be an orphan. It’d break Dog’s heart. You had noticed him sometimes going to the edge of the camp, near the wire, where Daryl had left, looking around, you had feared that he might leave to go looking for Daryl, but he didn’t leave you. You wondered if he missed Daryl, and you guessed he did, but he still didn’t leave your side, and you were grateful, both for the company and because if Daryl came back and you had lost his dog after he left him with you to make you feel better, you guessed the guy was bound to be pissed.

Whenever Dog went to the edge of the camp and looked into the woods, you always thought that maybe he heard Daryl coming back. It was never the case, though, and so by the third day, your mind went back to tell you that the bunch of assholes that you had run from had killed Daryl and he wouldn’t back.

You guessed that you could take care of Dog if Daryl was gone, even if he’d miss him, and at least you both had that camp and each other, but how were you going to feed both of you once you run out of the food that Daryl had left you? You could barely walk, how were you going to hunt? And damn, Daryl didn’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have told him anything about that group, that was on you…maybe more of his friends had died too, the women forced to marry those assholes…

You were getting lost in dramatic outcomes and worst case scenarios, when you heard the rumble of a bike. Gotta be Daryl, right?! Or…or some murderer asshole who got his bike and forced Daryl to tell him where his camp was? You were jumping at the worst conclusion again, when Dog ran to the wire, barking and wiggling his tail, but he seemed happy, not aggressive, and you guessed, hoped, that he had smelt Daryl. Soon you saw him, stopping the bike at the other side of the wire.

“Hey, Dog!” Daryl greeted, opening the wire and dragging the bike into the camp. Dog jumped on him and Daryl couldn’t help his smile, patting the dog’s head and scratching his ears, glad to see that he was alright, and so were you. Daryl looked at you and waved awkwardly before he kept dragging the bike into the camp and to its spot.

You waved awkwardly too, relieved to see that Daryl was okay, but wondering what had happened, and you waited anxiously for Daryl to park his bike and approach you.

“Everythin’ okay?” Daryl asked you, kneeling on the ground near the log where you were sat down to be eye level with you, while Dog sat down next to you, allowing you to pet him as if he were a stress-relief fur ball.

“Yeah…” You should be the one asking. “You? What happened?” You looked at Daryl, but he didn’t seem hurt besides a small bruise on his cheek

“I told my friends about the group.” He had gone first to Alexandria, then to Hilltop. “They didn’t like it either, so we made a plan, looked for them…found them…they, uh…” He chewed on his thumbnail, looking down, wondering if maybe you would be uneasy about the whole thing. It wasn’t like he liked to kill. “They ain’t a threat anymore…”

“Are they dead?” You asked quietly and Daryl nodded. You swallowed hard but nodded too…you knew they had it coming…

Even if they’d have wanted to make prisoners, which wasn’t an agreement among everyone, the group had fought hard and fought to kill without any plan on surrendering or talking through things, and soon Daryl had seen that Y/N was right in which she had told him, they seemed some sort of insane cult.

He had recognized easily the woman who Y/N had told him was the leader, swinging an ax that had made an ugly cut across his shoulder and arm before Daryl reacted and decided that he had to kill her, fighting back and getting another cut before his knife was into the woman’s head. The cuts still stung, but Siddiq had disinfected them and stitched them, and Daryl knew he’d heal alright. What were more scars anyway.

“And the women and kids?” You asked.

“Safe,” Daryl said to yours and his relief. “All safe and in Hilltop.” They had seemed nervous and scared, unsure about trusting them, but soon Jesus and Aaron had won their trust, and so now they were at Hilltop, grateful and relieved to have a safe place like that. Michonne had helped, of course she had, but still, she didn’t want new people in Alexandria, Daryl knew well why, whether he agreed with it or not…he couldn’t make his mind about that.

“Good, that’s good.” You finally stopped holding your breath. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Daryl shrugged, looking down. “I wanted to help them…and I didn’t want that group around.”

You nodded and looked down, still feeling a bit strange at being around someone, unsure about how to behave, and Daryl was right there with you, chewing his thumbnail as he looked at you.

“Ya still don’t wanna go? To Hilltop, I mean.” You swallowed hard and shook your head without looking at him. “Alright…told ya, ya can stay here.”

You looked at him at that, still a bit anxious about being imposing yourself and bothering Daryl, but he seemed genuine, and you realized that you did want to be there, with a dog that made you feel better, and around a man that surprisingly enough seemed like a pretty good person, who you didn’t feel too anxious or uncomfortable around, even if it was surprising…you liked to be alone, you were good alone, but maybe…maybe you were tired of never having anyone to watch your back…at least until your ankle healed.

You wondered if Daryl would want you to leave once your ankle was okay, this was his camp and he seemed a loner like you, but it also seemed like Daryl didn’t want you being on your own anymore, and you yourself didn’t know what you wanted.

Daryl, on his side, had already decided that he didn’t feel comfortable knowing that you’d be wandering the dangerous world alone, without even a dog, but he didn’t know how to make you go to the Hilltop or how to convince you to stay in his camp once you had healed.

He was a bit awkward at the idea of you staying there with him, but not as much or as uncomfortable as he thought he would have been if someone had told him that he’d be sharing his camp with a stranger. The same that happened to you, he didn’t feel too uncomfortable around you either, despite his shyness and awkwardness, and somehow he felt the need to make sure that you were okay, since the moment he found you in one of his traps, hurt and looking like a ghost… and maybe it felt kind of nice to have someone around after two years of loneliness…

Daryl realized that he had been staring at you, lost in thought, and you had frowned, seeming shy, so Daryl looked away bashfully. You had the bike magazines on the log near you, and he reached out to take one of the magazines, fiddling with it nervously.

“It’s okay that I took it?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah.” Daryl nodded. “Told ya so.”

“I didn’t understand anything anyway, I know nothing about bikes…but I looked at the pics.” You shrugged, chuckling, and Daryl nodded, looking at you with a half-smile. “You like bikes, yeah?” It was a lame question, he had two bikes magazines, and an actual bike, and you cringed at how bad you were at talking to other people.

“Yeah.” Daryl nodded, feeling just like you.

“Yours doesn’t look like any of those pictures, it looks a bit strange…” You said before you could stop yourself, and Daryl snorted.

“Yeah…I built it myself with pieces of bikes and stuff…guess that’s why it looks weird.”

Great…he had built the bike himself and you had talked bad about it…”I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…it’s not weird…it’s…didn’t mean anything bad.” You fumbled with your words.

“I know…” Daryl looked at you, seeming amused, and you relaxed a bit. “It looks kind of strange.” He gave you another of those half-smiles that helped you to feel better, and you smiled too. “Anyway…” Daryl got up and so did Dog, looking at him, ready to follow his human, it was cute. “I got some stuff for ya.”

“Stuff?” You frowned, confused, but Daryl didn’t say anything, walking to his bike. He had two new bags attached to it and he carried them back to you.

“This is, uh… Just some clothes…” Daryl handed you one.

“Thank you.” You were wearing the trousers and shirt that he had lent you so you could take off the dirty, ripped white dress, and as you rummaged into the bag, you saw that those clothes were more your size.

Daryl had asked Michonne for clothes when he arrived at Alexandria, and she had seemed so confused that Daryl had ended up explaining to her about you, explaining too that it was you who had told him about the new, dangerous group who he had gone to speak to her about, and what they had done to you.

Michonne seemed mistrustful, she always was now, but Daryl guessed that she did trust his instinct and that he wanted to help you, so she had found him some clothes for you. She didn’t know that he was planning on trying to make you stay with him, instead of keep going on your own, though. He didn’t tell you that he had spoken to Michonne about you, though, unsure about it freaking you out, he didn’t want to risk it.

You rummaged through the clothes, finding a pair of trousers and another of leggings, a couple of t-shirts, a tank top, a long-sleeved shirt, and a sweater. It wasn’t much but it was enough, and it was more than you had got since monsters began walking the world. You guessed that those friends Daryl talked about had spare clothes and what not…it was a bit strange to imagine.

There were also some changes of underwear and you shyly stuffed those back into the bag while Daryl looked down bashfully. He had been all flustered when Michonne gave those to him, which had seemed to thoroughly amuse her.

“Thank you, really…I don’t know what can I do to repay you…” You fidgeted.

“Ya don’t need to do anythin’, ya don’t have to repay me.” Daryl frowned.

“Thanks…” You murmured again, unsure of what to say.

“Yeah, well…” Daryl shrugged, getting up, and he took the other bag, walking to stop next to his tent, Dog padding behind him, and he pulled some fabric out of the bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I, uh…I’m gonna build ya a tent,” Daryl answered without looking at you, getting some stakes ready to hold the fabric securely in place. He hoped that you wouldn’t freak out at it, wondering if it looked like he was pressing you to stay…but with your ankle like that, you would need to stay there for at least a couple of weeks.

You could sleep on the open, but a tent was better, and Daryl could just lend you his and sleep on the open himself, but he had guessed that maybe you wouldn’t accept that. Besides, he had remembered that you had thought his tent was not protective enough, wondering if you had been cold or uncomfortable, and he had decided to just build you one, taking some stuff from Hilltop.

“You really don’t have to,” you rushed to say, but you weren’t surprised when Daryl ignored you. You still couldn’t understand why he wanted to help you like that, he had gotten out of his way to make sure that you were okay, and it was hard to believe that he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but it seemed like so.

Daryl set himself to work. He spread some fabric over the small patch on the ground where he was going to set your tent, so you’d be isolated from it and also to make it a bit softer, something that he hadn’t bothered to do with his own tent. Then, he carefully tied together and dig the stakes and sticks to support the fabric of the tent and hold it in place, he needed those to be sturdy and resistant, because the layer of fabric that he threw over them to build the tent was heavy and thick, way more than his, it wouldn’t let the wind hit you.

He threw another layer over it, this time made of a kind of frabric that would isolate the tent if it rained. The last thing he did was hang a smaller but thick piece of fabric on the open sides of the tent, sticking it to the base but making sure you could pull it up, so you’d have some opening as a door, but you’d be protected from the elements. Once the tent was finished, he went to his bike and untied a couple of thick, sturdy blankets that he left inside of your new tent.

He really owed to Jesus and Tara for having given him all that, he should find a deer, get them some venison and pelts…They didn’t know that it was for you or that you were going to stay there, though, probably they thought he was finally upgrading his camp or something. By now, they had stopped asking him to move back there…he guessed that they felt just as he was feeling now, asking you to go to Hilltop and you saying no. It kind of got him thinking…but he did not want to think, and he turned to look at you.

You had been watching Daryl work, silent, and you had to admit that you were impressed. You had made a couple of tents when you got your hands on some fabric, but very simple, nothing like that at all. The tent looked sturdy, comfortable even, well-protected…nothing like his, that sad piece of threadbare fabric. Looking at his camp and now at that tent, not to mention the way he moved, it was clear that Daryl was used to this, to the woods, to camping, and living in the wild. You couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

“It looks really good,” You told him, and Daryl nodded once and looked down shyly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and you found yourself thinking that it was kind of cute. “But you should take that tent, I’ll stay in the other.” This was Daryl’s camp, it was just fair that he took the sturdy tent, no matter it seemed he had been living in the other for almost two years for some reason.

“What?” Daryl frowned. “Nah. It’s for you.”

“But-”

“I said no!” Daryl snapped, he couldn’t help it, but he regretted being harsh, it was not against you, it was not your fault, and he didn’t want to scare you.

“Okay…” You murmured, looking down.

Daryl let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face, fingers tangling on the knots. “I, uh…I’ll get yer bag inside.” He nodded to your new bag of clothes and you were going to say that you’d do it yourself, but you’d be limping and wobbling, so you let Daryl do it.

“Thank you,” You said when Daryl emerged from your tent, and he just nodded, giving you that small smile. “For everything, really…” You still didn’t know how to express your gratitude and Daryl seemed uncomfortable anytime that you tried anyway.

Daryl made his way to you, near the campfire, and took out of his bag a bundle of fabric, opening it to reveal a rabbit and a couple of squirrels. “I’m gonna get those ready and make some more stew,” he muttered, and you weren’t sure if to you or to himself.

“Okay,” you said anyway. “I’ll get the fire going.” You were glad to be able to do something, to help and contribute, even in such a small way.

Daryl looked at you at that, and he smiled and nodded. It should have been strange, sharing his camp with a stranger like that, no matter she needed it, it should have been awkward, uncomfortable, annoying even…but somehow, it wasn’t. Sure, it was kind of awkward, it was strange, but Daryl realized that he didn’t mind having you there, he kind of liked it, much to his surprise, and to you were just thinking the exact same.

N/A

We’re all settled at the camp.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks, comments really make my days and make me happy about posting this, and I like to know what you people think of it, if you didn’t hate it.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be tagged let me know and also, please, if you are not interested in being tagged anymore let me know too, please.

@coffeebooksandfandom @ellerelly @gruffle1 @twdeadlysins @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @haleypearce @superflannel @sourwolf-sterek32 @angelontheinside @firehoopinmama @lonewolf471 @hopplessdreamer @daryldixonandfrogs @fanfictionsilove @collecting-stories @princessxpunk @hells-mistress @justyouraveragefangirl1967 @carnationworld @smiithys @polkadottedpillowcase @elisdays @mysterious-398 @captainbuckyboobear @dazzledamazon @spidergirla5 @lilythemadqueen @lightning-butterfly @purplebtsmagic @barra-cudaaa @courtnytrash04 @amazingapricot @seizethesam @harpersmariano @eternalslingshot @fuseburner @phoenixblack89 @boywivlove @amaroho @woundmetender @classyunknownlover @masterninjacow @tenderlyunlikelyexpert @shadowfoxey @kaitieskidmore1 @lilac-day-dreaming @datidixon @nj01 @rachelxwayne @elamy17 @angelofthor @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @thanossexual @daryldixonstorm @sttrawberries @huffledor-able541 @lucillethings @browneyes528 @soraitmnt @thereshallbenoother @chickenparmandstoicvulcans @leej2468 @heartlessmarvello @itsmeempar @redneckstrash @bxxbxy @bitchynicole @pulplorrd @supernatural79impala @the-artistic-animal-lover @selfsun @maggie-l-m @baseballbitch116 @tranquiiit @sweatywildpanda @theteaset @my-current-fandom-is @sapphire1727 @insidetoughcake @whitexwingedxdoves @nickangel13 @oceans-daughter-3 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @sesshomaru-lover @a-dlv @thetypewriterimproviser @lettersshapes @jodiereedus22 @the-artistic-animal @spenciepoo338 @wickedscorpio22 @askerror87 @mysticswan67 @srhxpci @riverscyberwife @actiaslunaa

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon & reader #daryl #dixon #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

Hello!! I hope you're doing well💕 Idk if this been requested before, headcanons about them having a stylish, fashionable s.o? You can choose the characters, tysm!!💖 For BNHA, if possible, please <3

fashionable s/o

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff (x reader)

note(s) : this isn’t that long, compared to most of my headcanons, but i did add four characters! will post more later

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

feels like a trashcan next to you.

in reality, his fashion sense is either top tier stuff, or something you can find at dollar tree

and when i mean that, i mean black sweatpants (that haven’t been washed in 2 days) and a black sweater, with a coffee stain on it to match

his fashion sense is quite lazy and comfortable, but that one outfit he wears on special occasions make up for it.

he smiles when he notices how you never-ever wear the same outfit twice in a row. at some point— assumed that you were also loaded.

and how you always find a way to make an ‘ugly’ outfit suddenly not ugly— he doesn’t know how you exactly do it.

hitoshi could look at an outfit in your closet and think “WHY did they buy this again?” but then in the following second, he could go

“oh, that’s why. they always know how to make it work.” since then, he has learned how to trust your sense in fashion

you could probably help him with his fashion sense, and he wouldn’t mind at all— just help him be consistent with it.

sometimes, he didn’t even know that a certain article of clothing would actually look good on him. the more you know

doesn’t mind it when people gawk at you, because of your very boujee✨sense of style. because, who wouldn’t look at you? they’d be missing out.

in short— he adores how you put so much effort with your clothes, and how you’re also effortlessly stylish

“but i’m dressed like a trashcan next to you,,” he’ll say with a hand resting on his nape, and you’ll reply with

“hitoshi, stop saying that.”

bakugou katsuki

appalled when he shows up to your dorm— and sees you wearing the fanciest pair of pajamas he has ever seen in his entire life.

“what the heck??”

“why, katsuki??”

“WHAT’S WITH THOSE FANCY PAJAMAS??”

his fashion sense is fine,, i mean— his parents are canonically fashion designers. so, you’d expect him to carry their sense of style

yes AND no. have y’all seen the official art of him carrying that large suit case? the fit was lowkey horrendous

rolls his eyes when he sees you wear something stylish to the grocery store— when he’s wearing a black tanktop and some sweatpants.

“seriously— is the outfit really necessary? you stand out too much.”

“is that a good thing?”

“not for me.”

okay but,, it’s not that bad as he says it is. he secretly loves seeing you pull up to dates in those nice clothes. he hasn’t seen you reuse the same outfit two times in a row.

but omg he hates having people gawk at you in public because of your clothes. that’s the part he despises the most

“this is what i didn’t like about your stupid style”

“oh? jealous, are we?”

“shut your trap.”

yes, you’re in fact— attractive. BUT THEY GOTTA KEEP THEIR EYES TO THEMSELVES

katsuki actually loves this part on you— but he grows irritated when his parents suddenly asked him if you were interested in modeling 💀

‘screw you and your fancy pants’ he’ll think to himself, when his parents are fawning over your sense of style.

todoroki shouto

shouto is also a fashion icon himself— so you two get a lot of attention for just,, looking fancy as heck, even in the mundane.

he didn’t really care about what you wore. you had the fashion sense of a white crusty family dog? well,, so what? he doesn’t care as long as you’re comfortable.

shouto noticed how you managed to make a plain piece of fabric a fashion statement— and wanted you to show him your closet

so when you do, he’s fascinated. your brain must be LARGE just thinking about what outfit combination you want to wear every single free day.

but he also thought you were like,, the emma chamberlain of fashion— he thought you created every single fashion trend out there today

when in reality, you just happened to know how to put your own touch on an outfit 💀

“what do you mean you didn’t bring back the brown pants trend?”

“shouto, for the last time— i didn’t do that,,”

he’s not convinced yet.

loves it when he walks into your room, and sees you mumbling to yourself on what you want to wear for a specific day— especially when you’re just wearing a sweater of his, instead of your own

even though you probably have 50 sweaters in there 💀

you need to fix your outfit in public? well, that’s not an issue! he’ll literally do it for you, with no hesitation.

fixes your collar when it gets caught in your bag’s strap, and also makes sure he doesn’t pull anything too tightly.

eventually buys you clothes, when he manages to map out your aesthetic, and what you like— even though anything looks good on you in his opinion

the class can only gawk at the two of you, when the class takes another shopping trip at the mall. i mean,, you both stick out!

“jeez. we look like goodwill mannequins next to them”

midoriya izuku

“that nerd’s fashion sense is lackluster at best.” — bakugou katsuki

i mean,, his fashion sense is simple. he never considered dressing in anything flashy— at least until he started dating you

he dressed in simple, and sometimes corny shirts— when you’re dressed in something he’d see in a luxurious clothing store.

he feels so,, out of place standing next to you. which you reassure that he doesn’t! but he can’t help but think that sometimes,,

because of that, he would be very willing if you decided to give him a clothing makeover!

he gets confused sometimes when he sees your closet like,, “i wonder what would this be paired with,,” but he knows to trust you with that

he’s just,, curious. that’s all.

has this fact written in his notebook— it has nothing to do with your quirk or anything related to that, but he does find it interesting

“Y/N wears a new outfit every weekend. i’ve never seen them wear the same outfit twice in a row! i wonder how that’s possible. i’ve seen their closet! and there’s a lot of things in there, and i just..” blah blah blah— when you came across that page, you were so flattered.

at first, he gets really sheepish when he’s standing next to you in public— because of the stares. but he learns to get used to it

“look, sweetheart! your style is nothing short of anything stylish.” he basically feeds you compliments on the daily— but who wouldn’t??

gets so happy when he sees you wear the clothes he bought you— even if he wasn’t so sure if someone as fashionable as you would wear it,,

to him, it’s overwhelming at first— but he does love how you look! he could talk about you all day and night. even if it annoys some people

»»————-　♡　————-««

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i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!, language, canon lvl violence, soft!bucky, some suggestive content, it’s ten thousand words so i’m sure i missed something, just lmk and i’ll tag it accordingly babes.

word count: 10,246 (i may have gone a little overboard)

a/n: this is the last part, unless y’all want more. i’m rlly proud of myself w this series, granted MUCH of the content was already written for me, nonetheless, here you go. i hope y’all like it <3

read A Friend of Yours - pt. 1 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my m.list here!

xoxo ray

The Wilson family house was adorable. Two stories with chipped blue paint on the walls and yellowing white on the columns. You had beat Sam there, so you decided to just look around for a few minutes before meeting Sarah and the boys. You walked out to the dock in front of their house, admiring the water, how still and calm it was. You were staring into the distance when you heard small footsteps from behind you.

“You know, it’s rude to sneak up on people.” You weren’t sure which boy it was, but you were trying to present a non-threatening front.

“You know, it’s rude to invite yourself onto someone else's property.” You were surprised when you heard Sam’s voice respond to you. Turning quickly to face the man with the confused expression. “I thought you wouldn’t come to the States because of the whole Enemy of it thing.” He walked away from you, gesturing for you to follow as he picked up your abandoned duffle. “He’s not here if that’s who you’re looking for.” You shook your head as you crossed the threshold into the living room.

“I’m not here for him, although he would be a much welcome bonus.” The two of you shared a laugh. “But no, I’m here to help you however I can.” Sam’s eyes narrowed, wondering if he should question your generosity. Your eyes must have given away your desperation for a home because he decided against it.

“Okay, but if you’re here, you’re gonna work. We’ve got a lot of shit to get done if we’re going to fix this boat up.”

“What boat?” You smiled at him as he began explaining what was going on. He just skimmed the top of what was really happening, but you could tell he was worried even though he wore a good facade.

“Get changed into some clothes you don’t mind getting messed up.”

“Am I going to be doing, like, manual labor?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look to which you groaned, “So, shorts are out of the question?” Sam had already walked into the kitchen before replying.

“Only if you want to freeze your ass off!” You changed quickly into a pair of ripped mom jeans that you cinched with a belt at your waist and a white short sleeved shirt.

“Do you have an overshirt I can borrow?”

“You mean, a flannel?” Sam shot back as he exited the room.

“Yeah, an overshirt.”

“No. A flannel. Come on, say it with me, flannel.” He tossed one your way, which you put on the rolled the sleeves up to your elbows.

“It’s an overshirt, Sam. I’m not seeing the issue.”

“Y/N, it's a flannel. Just say flannel, why you gotta make it all fancy?” He walked out the back door and onto a wooden bridge that led to the marina the boat was docked at. He didn’t let the flannel thing go the whole way over, making you laugh loudly and shake your head. As you walked up the dock, you could see several people helping Sarah and Sam with their boat.

“This is all you guys?” You were amazed, you hadn’t seen togetherness like this since before Aunt Peggy died. “Wow.” You said mostly to yourself as Sam walked you up to the woman of the hour.

“Sarah, we’ve got another one. Sarah, Y/N. Y/N, Sarah.” You stuck your hand out for Sarah to shake, which she did kindly. “I’m going to work on getting some of the siding off the boat. Sarah, Y/N is all yours.” He darted off, leaving you with Sarah.

“What ya got for me, Sarah? I’m here to do whatever you need.” She began instructing you to help with cataloging everything that people were bringing. Whether it be rusty spare parts or a couple twenty dollar bills, Sarah wanted to know and she wanted a record of it. A truck pulled up next to the boat and Sam got out hugging the men that exited it.

“Tommy, Carlos, man, this is amazing.” They exchanged a few more words before one of them asked the inevitable question.

“How do we get it off the truck?” A loud scraping sound emitted as the pallet was taken from the truck bed. Bucky lifted the bundle of parts over his head effortlessly, dropping it on the ground. He turned to the group of three men staring at him.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed as you approached. Bucky hauled a gray and black case onto the truck bed, speaking to Sam about it. Suddenly, one of the pipe fittings went out of whack, causing a steady stream of air to escape on the boat. Sarah stopped in front of it on the dock.

“Sam!” She was holding her clipboard as she watched Sam try to stop the leak with a crescent wrench. Bucky walked up next to Sarah, saying hi before telling Sam he was doing it wrong.

“Men. They even mansplain to other men, can you believe that?” You said from beside Sarah while Bucky finished fixing the leak. You tilted your head to admire him, “But we love to watch them work, huh?” She laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at her. Bucky and Sam turned back to you and Sarah and Bucky’s eyes widened when they landed on your figure. Sam walked toward the front of the boat as Bucky stopped to introduce himself to Sarah.

“Sarah--” His eyes flicked to yours, “Y/N.” Then he quickly followed behind Sam.

“Oh, what was that, Y/N?” Sarah teased, two can play at that game.

“I don’t know, what was your thing about, Sarah?” You said her name like Bucky did to mess with her. She shoved your shoulder away and pushed you back to work.

You had to admit, watching Bucky do domestic type things with his metal appendage did things to you. Just knowing that he was comfortable enough to be around Sam’s whole family with his arm fully on display, made you happy. The sun was beginning to go down, and you were sharing a beer with Sam and Bucky. Bucky hadn’t spoken to you directly since he got there and it was starting to irk you. You thought that you had something, but maybe not. Bucky rose from his position on the boat, clinking his bottle with Sam’s, claiming he needed to find a hotel room so he could catch his flight tomorrow.

“You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam joked.

“I just don’t wanna make it weird for your family.” But Bucky’s eyes caught yours as he spoke.

“Just stay here, man.” Sam began a rant about the people of the town, ending with, “Plus we already got one freeloader for the night, what’s one more, right?”

“Oh goodie! Are we going to braid each other’s hair and play Seven Minutes in Heaven, too?” you teased Sam, but Bucky stiffened.

“We can do whatever you want.” Sam said, then he pointed at Bucky, “Just don’t flirt with my sister. Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up, feed you to the fish.” Bucky made a face at Sam before smiling again.

Later that night, after you had all eaten dinner and the kids had gone to bed, you contemplated what your next move was going to be. You were sitting in one of the patio couches outside, a blanket wrapped around your legs, watching the stars reflection in the water. Bucky walked out on the porch, a pair of sweats-- that he had to borrow from Sam because he didn’t pack anything-- slung low on his hips, his blue Henley stopping just before the waistband of his boxers.

His gaze met yours and he approached you as if you were a wild animal and you were going to run away if he made any sudden movements. Your legs had been sprawled across both cushions of the couch, so instead of letting you change positions, Bucky just lifted your legs and then rested them on his lap. His left hand was rubbing back and forth just above your ankle.

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me, James?” He ignored your question all together, opting to ask his own.

“Do you remember when we first met?” You thought back to the first time that you ever saw him. Chained to a chair, hair hiding his face from nosy onlookers.

“Uh, yeah. You were being treated like an animal, caged in a glass box. Why?” His left hand never stopped its motion on your leg.

“When you first started staring at me, I was absolutely positive that it was out of fear. Then when I actually looked at you, you were curious.” You nodded your head, recalling the emotions.

“That was a stressful day.” You could sense that Bucky didn’t need your input to get to where he was going.

“Then, when we were in that stupid tiny blue car that Steve had crammed us into,” he paused to laugh at the memory, “I was sure in that moment, that I was never going to see you again.” His gaze hadn’t left his palms on your legs, refusing to meet your eyes. “And when I saw you in Madripoor, I was positive that it was just someone who looked a lot like you. It couldn’t have been you, I wasn’t that lucky.”

His left hand gripped your leg as he spoke, “But then you started talking and I would’ve known that voice anywhere. All I wanted was to be close to you.”

“Bucky, you almost broke my arm because I sucker punched Zemo.” He shushed you.

“All I wanted was to be close to you, but I’m also a violent person.” He brought his head up, locking his steel blue orbs with yours. “Then you kept talking and you were so smart. So beautiful.” His metal hand left your leg to cup your chin. “Every word out of your mouth mesmerized me, even when you were kind of insulting me.” His thumb stroked your jaw, traveling up to your bottom lip. “And God, the way you said my name.” Your nostrils flared and your brow raised.

“What? James?” You trapped your bottom lip in between your teeth, giving Bucky reason to pull it out with his metal thumb. Your tongue shot out to wet your lips out of habit and Bucky shot you a glare.

“Doll. What’re you doing to me?” He dropped his thumb back to your cheek as his eye flicked over your face. He brought his hands down to your waist, holding it tightly and pulling you closer to him. Your ass now rested against his right leg, and he transferred his grip to wrap around your blanket covered thighs. A squeal escaped your lips without your permission, making your face contort.

“When we were sitting at the bar in your gallery I wanted nothing more than to smother you with all my love and affection.” Your heart rate increased, you want that too. “I’m glad I wasn’t able to though.” Your stomach dropped, a feeling of rejection washing over you. You began to pull away from him, wanting to escape his touch. He gripped your legs tighter against his body, “At that time, I wasn’t what I should be for you. I’ll probably never be exactly what I should be for you, but I’m selfish enough right now that I don’t care anymore.” He twisted his upper body to face you.

“What are you talking about, James?” A visible shiver ran down his spine as you said his real name. He brought both his hands up to grip your face. The cool air added to the temperature difference of his hands.

“I’m talking about this.” It wasn’t a half a second later that his lips were on yours. It took you a second to respond, but you did with fervor. Your hands traveled to his neck to show him that you wanted this too. His fingers fanned out, cupping behind your ears to bring you impossibly closer to him. His tongue traced your bottom lip, seeking entrance which you denied playfully. He brought his thumbs to rest on your chin, applying pressure as he asked again. At this point, you didn’t care about the pardon, or Karli and the Flag Smashers, or Sharon and the Power Broker, or even Sam, Sarah and the boys. You could only focus on James’ lips that were molding so perfectly with your own. You eventually had to break apart, your fingertips coming to rest on James’ kiss swollen lips. You locked eyes with him again, his pupils blown wide, and the two of you laughed.

“Oh, that.” You traced his lips while holding his stare. “Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” He nodded quickly, gaze drifting down to your lips again. He leaned forward wanting to steal another kiss, but you stopped him. “That’s not okay behavior, James. You can’t just not talk to me because you’re frustrated with yourself.” He hummed a noise of assent, kissing your fingertips on his lips. His palm came up to keep your fingers pressed to his lips as his eyes roamed your face. “What does this mean, James? You aren’t just going to get my hopes up and then walk away right?” He pulled back from you, a look of disappointment crossing his features.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that would be a possibility.” He took a deep breath, “After my time in Wakanda, after Shuri de-programmed me, I thought I finally had a group of people I could trust. Then, Ayo was able to remove my arm within the blink of an eye, but not the way that they had when they were tweaking it.” He rested his body against the back of the patio couch. “My therapist had been telling me that I needed to trust someone, and up until that point, I did. I thought I had people who fully trusted me as well.” He looked over at you, silent tears racing down his cheeks. “This clearly isn’t a good excuse, but I felt like you wouldn’t have trusted me either.” Your hands came up to his face, wiping away his tears.

“James, I’ve known of you for years before I met you. Remember how Sharon said I did that report on you in high school?” He nodded as much as your hold on his face would allow him to. “Well, that’s when I first fell in love with the idea of you.” His eyes widened as you continued speaking. “Then, I was lucky enough to meet you and it felt like everything fell into place. After Sharon and I ran off to Madripoor, I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, and I was okay with that because maybe you were better left as an idea.” You laughed as you looked down at your lap, dropping your hands from his face. “Then I got dusted during the Blip, which is a whole other thing and then Sharon said that you were in Madripoor.” You shook your head then faced him, eyes locking with his red rimmed pair.

“I would love to fall in love with you. And right now, I want nothing more than to let the trust we have for each other grow into something more.” A wide smile spread across his face and he bared his teeth at you, scrunching his face at the nose.

“I want that too.” He leaned forward slapping a sloppy kiss onto your lips, which you returned with equal intensity. When Bucky pulled back from you to catch his breath, he left his forehead resting against your own. Your breaths synchronized and he patted his hand twice on your outer thigh, signalling you that he was going to get up. “We better get some sleep.” He stood in front of you, offering you his hand. You smiled as you entwined your fingers with his metal ones.

Luckily, Cas and AJ were kind enough to share a room tonight so you could sleep in the other. Bucky’s hand never left your side as he walked you up the stairs. Once you had reached the closed door, he wrapped his arm around you, twisting your body to face him, back pressed against the cold wood of the door. He pushed his whole body forward, molding your bodies together as his hands hooked into the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“I’m glad that we talked, Y/N.” He pecked your lips, pulling back afterwards to stare at your face.

“I’m glad we did too, but what are you doing?” A nervous laugh left your lips and Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward kissing your cheeks, “I’m happy,” A kiss to your chin. “that I’ll be able to,” one to your nose, “call you my doll soon.” His lips lingering on your forehead before bringing his chin up to the top of your head, pulling you into him for a hug. You brought your arms up to wrap around his waist, your face pressed into the spot where his neck and collarbone met.

“Am I not already your doll?” Your question was muffled against his skin, but he heard you.

“Not until I specifically ask you. You can be mine without being my doll, but I want to wine and dine you before I feast.” Your brows raised again and your lips rolled inwards.

“Before you feast?” You were holding back a laugh, so Bucky pulled back, his hands gripping your shoulders, face serious.

“Feast.” He reached behind you opening the door. He gave you a quick smooch before pushing you into the empty room, alone with your thoughts. You had a harder time falling asleep that night. Bucky, on the other hand, had no problem, sleeping like a rock with a smug smile on his face.

You woke up to the sound of eggshells being cracked and forks hitting the sides of ceramic plates. Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, you saw Sarah working over the stove while Cas was scrambling eggs. Sarah heard you coming down, ever the always aware mother.

“Hey, hope you’re hungry, ‘cause you aren’t leaving this kitchen without eating somethin’.” She watched as you peered into the living room, searching for Bucky’s imposing figure. “I think he’s down at the dock with Sam. They left real early this morning and girl, I swear to God if they’re messin’ with that water pump, I’m going to strangle the both of them.” You laughed, taking the plate of scrambled eggs that AJ was holding out to you.

“Did you tell them that the water pump wasn’t the issue?” She nodded as she stirred the eggs in her pan. “Then you know that they are, Sarah.” The two of you shared a laugh as Cas and AJ sat down to eat, as well.

“Y’all better hurry up before you’re late for the bus.” The boys quickly shoved their remaining food into their mouths, rushing out the door after kissing their mother goodbye.

“How do you do it?” Sarah’s head tilted, wondering what you were referring to. “Being a single mother and managing a business? Does it all get to be too much sometimes?” She could tell you were genuinely curious, so she sighed.

“It’s definitely challenging at times, but thankfully I have a good enough relationship with AJ and Cas that we’re able to get through pretty much anything. After we lost their Dad, I was all alone and scared. I’m still scared a lot of the time, scared that I’m going to mess them up, you know?” She paused a second to recollect her thoughts. “It’s just by chance that we live in this amazing community that helped me whenever I needed a little bit of assistance.” The conversation between the two of you fizzled after that, perhaps it was too heavy a topic for breakfast to handle. You followed her to meet a group of people at the marina, but the journey there wasn’t silent.

“So, I have a question, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Although I feel like if you don’t answer it, you’re kind of answering it.” You encouraged her to ask whatever she wanted to. “You and Bucky are a thing, right?” You coughed, unsure of how to answer. “That’s all the confirmation I needed.” Sarah smiled at you as your mouth struggled to form words.

“We are, but we aren’t?” Sarah gave you a look making you roll your eyes. “I don’t know he said that he was excited to see where this was going and then we kissed, so yes?”

“Oh, he looks like a good kisser.”

“Right? Just like he’s got the bone structure and lip plumpness ratio down to a T.” There was a brief moment of silence before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. The walk down the marina dock wasn’t a long one, so you were able to see Sam and Bucky hunched over a pile of scattered parts.

“Uh-huh. No. No.” Sarah’s head began shaking as Sam was arguing with Bucky, who wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his eyes were roaming your figure, lingering on your face. His eyes darted to Sam before he greeted the two of you with a wave of his hand.

“I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.” Bucky teasingly berated, taking Sarah’s side.

“You’re in just as much trouble, you by-stander.” Your voice lilted into a playful tone as Bucky made a shocked face at you.

“In our defense, we were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

“I don’t come up to the sky to tell you how to barrel roll, so don’t come down here and mess around with things you don’t understand.” Your fist came up to your mouth.

“Oh, that’s a-burn, Bird Brain.” You pointed a finger at Sam, clutching your stomach with your other hand as Sarah swatted the two boys away. Bucky stopped next to you, wrapping his metal arm around the front of your body, delivering a soft kiss to your temple. He left with Sam, arguing the whole way to the house while you stayed with Sarah, reassembling the water pump.

By the time you had gotten back to the Wilson house, Bucky was hauling his backpack strap onto his shoulder. You slowed your approach, holding your open palms in front of you, confused as to what Bucky was doing.

“Where are you going?” He turned to face you, a smile spreading over his face. His metal arm wrapped around your waist again, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m heading to New York, I’ve got some stuff to wrap up there. I want you to come with me.” You were taken aback, what about Karli and the GRC?

“We haven’t finished this whole thing with the Flag Smashers, or Walker. Bucky, we can’t just walk away from our responsibilities.” Bucky’s hands clasped around your shoulders.

“We aren’t, Y/N, I promise. Sam has Torres doing something with some signal do-dads and he’s going to call us the second he gets a lead.” He spoke calmly and you thought it over. At least he wasn’t trying to run away again, he was accepting that he had a real role in this. You could feel a shift coming, you weren’t quite sure what it meant, but you were hoping it was a good one.

“Okay, let’s go to New York.”

The two of you hadn’t even been in New York maybe twenty minutes when Sam texted Bucky that he had a line on where Karli was. Supposedly she was heading a takeover of the GRC meeting in Lower Manhattan. If being in New York as a wanted person was nerve wracking enough, now you were going to be surrounded by hundreds of government officials and some of New York’s finest. Bucky was on the phone with Sam, talking through the plan when your phone buzzed. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you saw Sharon’s name pop up.

“Heard you were having a bit of trouble with Karli again. Don’t worry, help is on the way, dear.” Your eyes rolled, still not over your argument before.

“You don’t need to be here for this Sharon.” You paused for a second, your left hand resting on your hip. “How did you even hear about this? Sam just now called Bucky, and I guarantee that he didn’t call you first.” Sharon chuckled on her end of the phone.

“You underestimate my reach, Y/N. I’ll meet you outside the building.” Your jaw clenched.

“Sharon, you said you didn’t want to help. What the hell changed that you’re so willing to put yourself in the middle of all this shit?” She was silent on her end.

“I figured you would want me there.” Well, shit what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?

“Lower Manhattan, keep quiet.” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You hated not talking to her, and being mad at her was next to impossible. This was your way of saying ‘I forgive you,’ and you knew she would understand. Bucky didn’t say anything as he watched you push your phone into the pockets of your jeans. He could tell something was off, but he could also see that you definitely didn’t want to talk about it right now. Instead he jerked his head for you to follow him, leading you through the streets of Manhattan.

The two of you could see the red lights illuminating the streets, letting you know that you were here. Bucky turned to you, holding his hand out to you, a single earpiece laying in the middle of his palm. As you took it, his hand drifted to your jaw, lifting it to face him. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before nodding for you to stay behind him. You pulled the brim down on the hat you wore as you stuck to Bucky like glue. He led you through the barricade, one of the soldiers addressing him accordingly.

“Sergeant Barnes.” You made a face beneath your cap, holding back a laugh as Bucky came to a stop in front of you.

“Oh, Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky looked at you over his shoulder as his skin twitched. Your eyes widened. “Does that turn you on, James?” He wasn’t able to answer because of an interruption by Sam’s voice in your ears.

“By the way, I called in some backup.” An agent approached the two of you while Sam kept speaking. “Also, please remember that I can hear everything you say, Y/N. And I don’t need to know what makes the Tin Man tick.” You laughed at Sam’s statement as a twinge of pink ran up the back of Bucky’s neck.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The agent’s hand came up to his hairline. A click sounded as the agent’s face began to glitch. “It’s me.”

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Sharon pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“Why didn’t you say that to her? The same people who want me in the Raft, want her there too. Or did you forget that?”

“Do I hear Sharon?” Sam asked as he listened in on your conversation.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky grumbled back.

“Hey Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” She threw a wink at you as she stepped closer to Bucky. Sam said something else to her, but you had zoned out to watch Sharon. “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky said as he backed away from Sharon and closer to you.

“They’re going to move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam brought you all back to the task at hand, switching into Captain mode. Bucky nodded to you and Sharon.

“Go with her.” You made a face at him, about to protest when he cut you off. “I don’t care. Stick with her, Y/N. Don’t get arrested though. We’ve got a date.” He wrapped his arm around the front of your waist, like he did at the Wilson house. He pressed a kiss to your temple, staying a little longer than necessary and giving your hip a squeeze before he released you. You heard glass break above your head as Sam crashed through one of the windows upstairs.

“You guys are going to have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” You walked behind Bucky to enter the building, the metal detector going off for both you and Sharon. You shared a look with the woman.

“Oops.” Bucky pointed at a guard in tactical gear while he stepped forward.

“He’s one of them. I’ll get the evac.” He left before you could stop him, leaving you and Sharon to deal with the man he pointed at. The both of you followed him to the parking garage, where he was standing post next to two black armored vehicles. The two of you were waiting behind a pillar as you debated what to do.

“We need to stop him.”

“If we take him down now, they’re going to be suspicious and we are going to get arrested. Cool your jets, Y/N.” Your nostrils flared at her tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell Sam you were already coming?”

“What?” Sharon seemed startled by the question as if you didn’t catch the slip Sam said earlier.

“Sam said that he called in backup. I’m assuming he meant you because we’re the only four people he knows. So why didn’t you tell him you were already coming, or already here or whatever?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” She said dismissively, you could tell she wanted you to drop the subject, but you wanted the truth. Throwing a glance up to the guard, you saw him helping the GRC officials into the vans.

“Damn it Bucky, you had one job.” Bucky ran past you, grumbling a response as he loaded his weight onto a motorbike.

“We aren’t done with this, Sharon.” You pointed at her before she walked away from you. You watched as she ran into the guard then apologized profusely to him. When you caught up to her, she clicked a button in her hand, releasing a noxious gas in the guard’s face. You saw his skin being bubbling and sizzling.

“How’d you do that?” Your eyes hadn’t left the man in the car.

“Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” The two of you continued walking out of the garage, a helicopter started taking off from the helipad on the top of the building.

“Sam, that chopper’s about to take off.”

“Bucky!”

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Sam groaned in the earpiece and then you saw him shoot out the window again, chasing after the helicopter. You walked alongside Sharon, following Bucky’s path after the NYPD vans. You got to the barricade just in time to see Scruff holding one of the cars back from falling off a ledge. You were too far away to be able to get to him in time to help, though. You stood next to Sharon as he was ripped away from the back of the car. Your heart dropped as your gaze went to Bucky, who was standing directly underneath the car that was about to crush him.

The crowd around you was holding their phones in front of their faces, at an angle that all they could see was the back of the NYPD van full of GRC officials screaming for help. As the car slipped farther and farther down the platform, your stomach churned more and more. Suddenly, the car stopped, hovering over the opening in the ground. You could make out Sam’s new wings on either side of the car. He pushed forward, lifting the car back to a safe position and then moving away, allowing the crowd to see him fully. The star on his suit glinted proudly as he stood still for a second. The crowd erupted in cheers for the savior. A man to your left cheered for ‘Black Falcon,’ but the man beside him corrected him before you had the chance to.

“No. That’s Captain America.” Red Wing left Sam’s suit to undo the locking mechanism on the back of the van and the GRC officials evacuated the vehicle quickly. Sam turned in the air, removing his shield from his back and throwing it at the Flag Smashers below, knocking them off their feet. At some point, you began moving toward the edge of the platform, ready to help and away from Sharon.

An explosion went off to your right, causing you to search for the source. Puffs of smoke were being thrown in the pit where Sam and Bucky stood and you could see Karli getting away in the confusion. Bucky’s voice rang through your ear.

“Hey. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” You searched for Sharon so you could join up again, but you couldn’t find her. You could hear Sam telling Bucky that the Smashers had split up, and you knew that Bucky would’ve gone with Scruff to keep an eye on him, the unstable bastard. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon crouched behind a stack of pallets, and your brows furrowed. She began whistling and then you heard Karli’s voice.

“Dovich? Is that you?” Sharon emerged from behind the stack, holding her gun in front of her.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Karli brought her gun up as well, speaking to Sharon as an old friend.

“That’s what I was gonna say.” Sharon brought her hands up in surrender, and your head tilted, what the fuck is going on? “You know, when you first came to Madripoor, you reminded me of a young me. I took you in, gave you an opportunity, and you betrayed me.” Oh hell no.

“Because you wanted to control a world that hurt you.” Karli lowered her gun but all her senses remained in overdrive. “But I wanted to change it. I’m not interested in power or an empire. I have bigger dreams.” Sharon scoffed, looking around, her eyes darting over where you were hidden behind a stack of boxes. Could it really be? Was Sharon really the person that you thought you knew?

“What, like this?” She stepped closer to Karli. “Come back and work for me again. All of you. We can make a difference together.” Sharon was trying really hard to convince Karli, but she wasn’t having it.

“You just want me because you need your muscle back. Without us Super Soldiers, how much power does the Power Broker really have?” Motherfucker. You zoned out a bit, trying to decide what to do. A male voice began speaking in French causing you to refocus.

“Four times, or--” You could see Batroc’s gun pointed at Karli and Sharon’s face was indifferent.

“I don’t do blackmail.” Sharon gripped her gun tighter, raising it quickly to shoot Batroc. Karli panicked and shot Sharon in the process. The gunshots were loud enough to give Sam an idea of where you were all located. You came out from your position, gun gripped in your hand as you stood closer to Sharon. Maybe you could salvage this situation before Sam got here.

“Karli, calm down.” You kept a tight hold on your pistol as you talked. “Look, I get it. You’re scared, but I’m going to need you to put the gun down.”

“I’ll put mine down when you do.” You could hear a slight shake in her voice. You tilted your head at her apologetically.

“You know I can’t do that.” You cast a glance at Sharon who was clutching her stomach, attempting to stop the blood flow. Karli gulped as she raised her gun again.

“Well, I can’t have any loose ends now, can I? You taught me that, Power Broker.” She sneered at a groaning Sharon. A blinding pain began radiating from your shoulder and your hand immediately when to the area. The force of the bullet knocked you off your feet, slamming your head into the ground.

“Shit, what the fuck Karli!” You could make out Sam’s figure coming up from behind Karli. You saw him process Karli standing over one dead body and two injured ones. The wheels began turning and he started speaking.

“So, what’s next, huh? You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end?” He stepped closer to an agitated Karli. “Please, let me help you.” He kept his voice calm.

“Don’t try and manipulate me.” Karli approached Sam ready to attack. Their fight continued as she pushed Sam backwards.

“I’m not gonna fight you!” She knocked Sam down to the ground, with the swing of a metal bar.

“Stay down!” She shouted at him. You pushed yourself to your knees, adrenaline pumping allowing you to get to Sharon to help hold pressure on her stomach. You watched from over Sharon as Sam rose to his feet, holding his body in a fighting stance.

“I can do this all day.” She launched herself at Sam, throwing his body back into a bunch of cinder blocks. Sam held his shield in front of him, protecting from her punches.

“Fight back!” She shouted as she delivered blow after blow. Sam ducked low, grabbing onto her torso, using his thrusters to send the both of them flying. Karli used the momentum to push off the ground, to bring Sam up to the ceiling. You sat back on your knees, worry lacing your features.

Sam held one of her hands to his chest as she continued throwing the other into his shield. She gripped the top edge of the shield, using it to gain leverage. She pulled her hand away from his chest, tossing his body forward. The shield slipped from Sam’s arm and he laid on the ground, recovering from her attacks. Karli leant down to pick up her gun and you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to tackle her.

She raised her gun, aiming it at a now shieldless Sam. Karli hesitated, staring at Sam before committing to her cause, ready to kill Captain America. You were steadily creeping forward as she debated, but you could see the moment she decided to pull the trigger. Just before she could, a gunshot sounded from behind you. A gasp left your lips as Sam ran to hold Karli.

Your head whipped around to see Sharon leaning against the stack behind her, gun still smoking. Sharon shook her head at you as she holstered her weapon. Sam lifted Karli into his arms and carried her away from the both of you. You stood a good three feet away from Sharon, hand on your gun in the waistband of your jeans.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re the Power Broker.”

“What the hell are you on about now, Y/N.” Your brows raised and your mouth opened in shock.

“I was fucking here when Karli was talking to you, dumbass. Is that why you shot her? ‘Can’t have any loose ends,’ she said you taught her that, Sharon. What the fuck?” Sharon laughed at you.

“You’re imagining things, Y/N.” She rose to her feet and began walking away from you.

“Sharon, don’t fuck with me right now. How long have you been the fucking Power Broker?” You followed her up the tunnel and out to where you could see Sam lecturing a Senator. Sneaking around to a medical bag, you grabbed two pieces of gauze.

“I’m not the Power Broker.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you, leaning against a car behind the ambulances. You were about to say something else when you saw Bucky and Sam approach the two of you. They took in the two of you, an angry look on your face and an annoyed one on hers.

“You’re blocking my light.” Sharon bit out to Sam.

“We got to get you to a hospital.” Sam told Sharon as Bucky walked up to you, pulling your gauze away from your shoulder, checking your bullet wound.

“It’s through and through and you know they aren’t going to listen to you.”

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Your eyes glared at Sharon as you spoke. How long has she been doing this behind your back? Someone called for Sam’s attention.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, turning away from the newcomer’s view. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” Your jaw clenched but you remained silent. “For what it’s worth, the suit looks good on you.” She played a good victim, that’s for sure.

“Alright, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you away from the ambulances and news cameras.

“I didn’t forget my promise either, guys.” Sam nodded at the two of you before turning to do his Cap duties. Bucky remained silent beside you, content with just being in your presence again.

He led you to his apartment, bringing you to the bathroom where he pulled out a first aid kit. He placed it on the countertop, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you onto the granite.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” He flipped the top of the kit open, searching for what he needed.

“Trying to get me naked already? At least take me to dinner first, Sergeant.” You winked as you peeled your shirt off. Bucky glared at you then quickly looked at your shoulder.

“This is going to hurt, just so you know.” He didn’t give you time to say anything else before starting to clean the hole in your shoulder. You hissed as stings radiated from the wound, cursing under your breath as he blew on it. “Alright, here we go.” Bucky began stitching, returning your body to its former glory in his eyes. “How’d you managed to get shot?”

“I was attempting to get Karli to drop her gun.” You debated on telling Bucky what you learned about Sharon. “Who do you think the Power Broker is?” You asked gauging his reaction. His attention never wavered from his task. He soon finished with the front side of your shoulder, backing away and telling you to face the mirror. Bucky leaned forward, his hips pressing against your ass as he set to work on the exit wound.

“I have my theories. What about you?” You looked at the granite below, tracing the different lines, not answering for a few minutes.

“Mm, not really.” Was it naive to keep the knowledge to yourself? Probably, but this way you could deal with Sharon on your own and not have to involve Captain America.

“Y/N. You lived there for years, you’re telling me that you never encountered the Power Broker? Never worked for him before, procuring a particular art piece?” You shook your head as you felt him start to wrap your shoulder.

“No, I made sure that all my dealings were as clean as the illegal art trade could be.” Bucky nodded, closing the first aid kit and placing it back under the sink. He walked out of the bathroom and into his kitchen, pulling out a bottle of Advil. He shook two tablets into his metal hand and gave them to you along with a water bottle from the fridge.

“Take these and then go lay down. You need to sleep so your body can heal.” You could tell something was bothering him. You reached out to grasp his metal wrist.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Hmm?”

“Nothing. I’ve just got something to do.” You nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His head shook back and forth in denial.

“No, I need to do this alone. I’ll be back soon. Whenever I get back you better be asleep in that bed.” He pointed at the door to his room. He walked up next to you, wrapping his arm around the front of your waist and giving you a kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back, doll. I’ve just got a few things to wrap up.”

He left soon after, leaving you alone in his barren apartment. It was easy to see that he hadn’t made it his home. Probably feeling like he had no reason to, no ties to anyone here. Makes it easier when you have to bug out in a pinch. You walked into his room, searching for a shirt to wear to bed. Finding one of his shirts hanging in his closet, you pulled it over your head after removing your bra. You took off your jeans, trading them for your sleep shorts from your bag.

You climbed into his bed, waiting for his scent to envelope you, but it never came. Has he ever actually slept in this bed? So you laid there, unable to fall asleep, too many thoughts swirling in your brain. How long has Sharon been the Power Broker? Did it start when you first got to Madripoor? Or was it after you were dusted and she was there alone for five years? None of this changed the fact that she needed to be stopped. The amount of influence she had was too great. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the bed, so you rolled over to pick it up.

Court hearing with the Senators tomorrow at 8 A.M. for you. -Sam

You thought about the possibility of being welcome back into your own country and not being treated like a criminal. Thought of the possibility of going to work for the government again. Of working with Bucky and Sam. Of being with Bucky without having to look over your shoulder all the time, and it made you smile. Your phone buzzing brought you out of your trance.

Also, you and Bucky need to come to my house tomorrow. Sarah’s throwing a party, they got the boat finished so we’re celebrating.

That made your smile grow, you were happy for the first time in a long time. The lock of the front door clicked and you jumped out of the bed, grabbing your knife, ready for an attack. You waited behind the door to Bucky’s bedroom, then swung it open. Your hand came up to the intruder's throat and your mind switched out of attack dog mode when you saw Bucky’s raised brow.

“Is there a reason for this?” His eyes were red and he had tear stains on his cheeks. You flipped your knife back down and placed it on top of your jeans.

“Sorry. Are you okay, James?” He shook his head and you opened your arms to him. He walked into your embrace, before exhaling harshly into your uninjured shoulder.

“No, but I will be.” He backed away for a second, taking in your form. “Didn’t I tell you that you were supposed to be asleep when I got back? Also, is that my shirt?”

“Yes, you did and yes, it is. Do you have an issue with that, Sergeant?” He quickly shook his head back and forth, leaning down to pick you up by your thighs and tossing you onto his bed.

“Not at all, doll. You look better in it than I do.” He smiled at you as he stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed with you. Bucky tossed his arm over your waist, pulling your body into his. He sighed contentedly, basking in the way you smelled.

“Sam got me a hearing for a pardon.”

“Oh yeah? When’s that?” Bucky’s voice was muffled because he had buried his face in your neck, peppering small pecks there.

“Tomorrow morning at nine. Are you going to come?” Bucky thought on it for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I have one more thing to take care of.” You nodded.

“They got the boat fixed and Sarah invited us to the party. Sam says we have to go, it’s tomorrow too. I don’t actually know what time though he didn’t say.”

“Alright, I’ll pick something up to bring after I finish my thing.” You turned to face him, a smirk plastered on your face.

“So, Sergeant does it for you?” You giggled as he groaned and removed his arm from your waist. His hand came up to run through his hair, scratching his head

“Are we doing this right now, Y/N?” You released a cackle of a laugh, nodding in response. “Oh that’s how you’re gonna play this?” He attacked your sides, beginning to tickle you causing you to react accordingly. Somehow, he managed to end up on top of you, in between your thighs. He stopped suddenly to watch as you writhed and giggled.

“What?” You started getting self-conscious, afraid that there was something on your face. Your hands came up to hide your face from him, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He took your hands away from your face by trapping your wrists beside your head. “What? Why are you doing that?” You questioned, only halfway serious.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that soon turned into something else. His hands traveled back down to your sides, resting on the bare skin showing from your shirt having ridden up. The temperature difference shocked you enough to make you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, escalating the situation.

Your hands came up to the back of his head, holding him in the kiss, guaranteeing that he wasn’t going anywhere. They made their way down his body to rest on his shirtless back. He pushed forward with his hips, the fabric separating the two of you becoming increasingly annoying. Bucky pulled back slightly, nudging you to open your eyes. There was a silent interaction between the two of you in that moment, neither of you was ready for anything intense, so the momentum slowed, but the energy level remained.

Bucky’s hands never left your body that night. Exploring and memorizing every ridge, every stretch mark, every piece of you that made you, you. You drifted your fingers over the scarred skin next to his arm, tiny feather touches that made him hum. Falling asleep in his arms was the easiest thing you ever had to do. And for Bucky, being able to hold you as you flutter asleep was beautiful. He watched as your face relaxed and all the tension left your body, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. Bucky didn’t like to admit it, but he was a touch starved human being. All those years in and out of cryo and isolation gave his body plenty of reason to crave genuine human touch. And to have a human as charming and annoying as you was a dream come true, his doll.

You woke up before Bucky the next morning. You looked over at his face, tranquility lacing his features, unburdened with no glorious purposes. He was just your James. The two of you had separated sometime during the night, so you scooted closer to his frame. His metal arm is thrown across the pillow behind your head, giving you perfect access to his neck and chest. You glanced at the clock across the room, the hands telling you that it was seven thirty in the morning. If you wake him now, you could have at least thirty-five minutes of bliss, plus some heavy petting if you both were feeling cheeky.

You leaned forward towards his neck, placing tiny kisses from the base of his ear to the puckered skin of his shoulder. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t recognize the change in his breathing pattern.

“Good morning, doll.” If you could melt into the mattress, that would’ve done it. His fucking rasp grated you into a fine powder of a human. You hummed at him, not stopping your kisses, instead climbing up to his jaw and then to his lips. He turned his head and playfully laughed. “Nuh-uh, we’ve got morning breath, ya nasty.” You groaned, retreating from his figure completely.

“Fine, we will brush our teeth together and then come right back to this bed and you will love me, damn it.” Bucky laughed at you as you drug yourself into his bathroom. This was the type of bliss you wanted, and you only wanted to share it with a particular metal armed super soldier. It didn’t take long to brush your teeth, and you pushed on Bucky’s back to get him into the bed quicker. When he did get back into the bed, he was grumbling.

“I don’t know why we’re getting back in bed, we’re already up now.” He smiled as you glared at him. Bucky’s back was leaned against his headboard, so you swung your leg over his thighs, straddling his lower half. His hands rested on your waist as you brought yours up to the sides of his face.

“You frustrate me.” You said with a loving smile and tone before pecking his lips softly as he laughed. “What time do you have to leave for your thing?” You played with the strings of your sleep shorts as he answered you.

“Around eight-thirty, it takes me about thirty minutes to get there and it doesn’t open until nine.”

“I’m gonna be leaving around then, too. What do you wear when you’re going in front of senators to be pardoned for stealing a metal frisbee?” Bucky huffed a laugh, pulling you closer to him wrapping his arms around your back. “I’m thinking a crop top that says “Fuck You,” would that be too obvious?”

“Yeah, that one might be a little on the nose.” Bucky checked your shoulder as he spoke. “Your shoulder looks good, no infection, thanks to me.” He plastered a wide smile on his face afterwards. “Do you know what time Sharon’s hearing is?” You stiffened slightly at the mention of Sharon.

“Uh, no. Sam just told me my time and I haven’t talked to Sharon.” Bucky’s head tilted.

“Everything okay on that front?”

“Not really?” You went back and forth on what to tell him. You didn’t want to give him the extra burden of knowing what Sharon was. “We had a fight a few days ago and neither one of us has cooled off about it, so that’s a bit rocky.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, so Bucky just held you tighter. “Okay, you don’t have to.” He held you for a few more minutes, before backing away. “Alright we need to get ready.” You groaned, slackening your body, making everything about you dead weight.

“No. I don’t wanna.” You sounded like a child.

“You sound like a child.” Oh you whore, get out of my head, butt munch. Bucky said, pushing your body off his. He walked to his closet as you laid spread out like a starfish on his bed. Bucky had already picked out a shirt and put on pants whenever he walked back in and you were still laid on his bed.

“You’re gonna be late.” He leaned over your head, appearing to you upside down. His arms were resting on either side of your face, dropping down he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You’ve got to get up, Y/N.” He went to the other end of the bed, where your feet dangled off the edge. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you, you slid off the bed, taking the comforter with you. “Oh my god, this is pitiful, Y/N. You’re a grown woman!” Bucky shouted at you as he left the room.

The two of you parted ways after you got dressed, but not before Bucky wrapped his arm around the front of your waist and placed a kiss on your temple. You wondered why he did that so much, but you weren’t going to argue with the attention because you loved it. You walked up to the extravagant building that was bustling with people. Everything was white, you always wondered why that was. White represented innocence and America was anything but innocence. You ended up wearing your casual clothes for two reasons. One, you were being pardoned, why couldn’t you be comfortable for that? And two, you had somewhere to go after this and that was just as important as this court meeting to you. Walking into the courtroom, you took in all the faces in the seats. Your name was called immediately, so you approached the podium.

“Ms. Y/L/N, on behalf of the United States Intelligence Community, I’d like to offer you and your family our sincerest apologies.” You wanted to scoff, but you bit your tongue. “You’ve always been an incredible asset to our country. Today, we begin to set things right. We begin to repay some of the debt that is owed to you.” You bowed your head.

“Thank you, Senator. It’s been a long time coming.” You could see the Senator’s jaw clench, not used to being brushed off.

“And we’d like to offer you a full pardon. There might be an opening in your old division. Is that something that you’d be interested in?”

“Actually, Senator. I would like to thank you for that opportunity, but no. I’ll be working with Captain America.” The man’s whole body seemed to twitch.

“You aren’t authorized to make that kind of decision, Ms. Y/L/N.” This time you did scoff.

“Yeah, okay. Well thanks for the pardon.” You tapped the podium twice, leaning to walk away. “This has been great, I really feel like we’ve both said our peace. See ya later, Senator.” You walked out as you heard him calling your name. You pulled your phone out, dialing Bucky’s number.

“Hey doll! How’d court go?” You started walking to where you and Bucky had planned to meet after you got done with your respective tasks.

“Oh great! I’m working with Cap now.” You could almost see Bucky’s face.

“Wow, how’d you manage that?” You smirked.

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, James.”

“Oh is that so, Y/N?” You could hear his smirk as he spoke. “Maybe you’ll have to be persuasive with me one day.” You laughed.

“James, I don’t have to be persuasive with you.” You caught sight of Bucky walking down the street with a store-bought cake in his hand. You held up your pinky finger wiggling it for emphasis, “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”

By the time you got to the marina that docked Paul & Darlene, you were buzzing with excitement. Bucky was giggling at your antics, you were practically bouncing in the passenger seat. As soon as Bucky got out of the car, Cas and AJ latched onto him. He went along with them, playing as if he was going to slam the cake into their faces. You walked past Bucky, hugging everyone who greeted you. Once you reached Sarah, you sat down on the picnic table for a second before taking off again. You stood to the side as you watched Sam take picture after picture with pretty much everyone from town.

Bucky stood next to you, chuckling about everyone’s reaction to Cap being from their hometown. One woman almost knocked Sam flat on his ass when she hugged him, a huge smile stretched over her face. You went back to the table Sarah was at, taking a seat next to her. Suddenly Bucky climbed on top of the table, holding his vibranium arm out with two children dangling off it. He was talking animatedly with his other as he told a story about Sam. You had zoned out just staring at him with the kids.

“You know, this could be you.” Sarah said as she leaned next to your ear.

“What could be?” You made a face at her.

“The kids, the community.” She looked over at Bucky, “That hunk of a man over there.” You slapped her shoulder softly before humming.

“I’ve thought about it, but that’s a two person decision and I don’t think either of us are at a point in our lives to raise another tiny human.” Sarah nodded, her features disbelieving.

“Just don’t let that one get away.” Her finger was pointed at Bucky who was playing with the kids at the edge of the dock. Bucky must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looked up, removing his dark sunglasses to lock eyes with you.

“Oh I don’t plan on it.” You smiled at her. You joined Bucky and Sam as they stood in front of Paul & Darlene, taking in the sunset reflecting on the water. Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. You definitely don’t plan on it, you thought to yourself as you leaned into his embrace.

**********************

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925 @afuckingshituniverse @distinguishedgardenroadbonk @littlewhiterose @bcadc42 @tcc-gizmachine @imagines78643258 @mia-j-333

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getofy · 3 years

Text

bakugo as your boyfriend would include...

request: what would dating bakugo be like?

gn!reader (but there are slight fem themes if you squint); fluff; headcanons; no spoilers

character: bakugo katsuki

a/n: this goes out to my one & only <333. ilysm deku kinnie pls enjoy! also, @ bakugo simps i hope this feeds u well. he’s sm fun to write for. headcanons + a short playlist are under the cut.

*ty to my bakugo kinnie/simp friend for helping me write this. i appreciate u. A LOT of these ideas r hers!!

FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM SOUNDS LIKE:

01. TEENAGE DIRTBAG by WHEATUS

02. GUTTER GIRL by HFHW

03. BOYFREN by LOVE LEO

04. IN TOO DEEP by SUM 41

05. TOUNGES by THE FRIGHTS

06. R U MINE? by ARCTIC MONKEYS

katsuki is a very emotional person. he feels incredibly deep and profound things, but has trouble expressing it in a healthy manner. this being so, him as your s/o would consist of a lot of subtle displays of affection! such as...

-> SHOWING YOU HOW TO DO STUFF:

he’ll teach you small things about his hobbies. will 100% show you how to play the drums, mountain climb, etc.

literally you learn so much with him it’s insane. he claims it’s because he couldn’t stand dating an incapable person, but in reality it’s just because he likes feeling useful/needed HAHA.

-> TOUCHING YOU:

this man is lowkey super clingy...so he will always find a way to be physically close to you.

a BIG fan of putting his arm around your shoulder fs. don’t mention it to him though because he’ll IMMEDIATELY stop doing it.

-> LETTING YOU SIT ON HIS LAP:

if you’re comfortable with it, he’d adore it if you sat on his lap!! like fr if you walked up to him when he was lounging on the couch and did it this is how it would go...

“what’re you doing?”

“sitting down, why?”

he just stares and then grunts before going back to whatever he was doing

don’t let his indifference fool you, he is very pleased.

probably looked up at the ceiling and thought about it for an hour once you left

he thinks about you a lot

-> ALWAYS COOKING FOR YOU:

he pretends like it’s a nuisance, but it genuinely makes his day when you eat the stuff he prepares. literally if you’re hungry just ask him to make you smth and he’ll do it. he actually gets angry if you decide to cook without him.

one time, katsuki seemed really tired because of training and school. so you tried to make something for the both of you guys to enjoy together. it uh...didn’t go well...

“what are you doing?!”

“cutting vegetables...”

“no. you’re doing it all wrong. give me the knife.”

“excuse me??”

“GIVE ME THE KNIFE.”

you ended up giving him the knife

the meal was great!?? but he scolded you for like 30 minutes after PLS.

-> SHOWING YOU OFF:

he’s proud that you’re his s/o, so of course he’s gonna brag about you to EVERYONE.

it’s not overbearing or in an annoying way either. it’s moreso him talking about your accomplishments and stuff like that.

he literally only shows you off for his own benefit. NEEDS everyone to know how cool you and him both are.

it’s an ego thing.

i take back what i said abt it not being annoying. it’s a nuisance to everyone who ain’t you.

-> SITTING NEXT TO YOU:

like i said before, he needs to be close to you at all times. sooo he always sits next to you. no questions asked.

expect to see a pouting, petty katsuki if you decide to sit next to somebody that isn’t him.

“are you seriously mad that i sat next to deku and not you on the bus?!”

“‘COURSE IM MAD.”

“you’re impossible.”

“HUH??????”

-> LETTING YOU WEAR HIS CLOTHES:

PRACTICALLY CHUCKS HIS SHIRTS AND HOODIES AT YOU. LITERALLY JUST- PELTS YOU WITH HIS CLOTHES UNTIL YOU PUT THEM ON.

you took his hoodie without asking ONE TIME and now he’s hooked on seeing you in his clothing.

he’ll always pretend like he’s doing you a favor though.

gotta love how annoying he is!

-> GIFT GIVING

i wouldn’t go as far to say that gift giving is his love language, but he’ll buy things that you bring up in causal conversation a whole lot.

he just kinda bashfully shoves the gift in your hands and watches as you fawn over it.

“awww! how’d you know??”

“you wouldn’t shut up about it.”

he loves seeing your pleased expression!! +100 boost to katsuki’s confidence.

-> HELPING YOU WITH ACADEMICS:

we ALL know how smart this man is.

he will 100% help you study for school if you’re struggling!

don’t expect him to go easy on you though.

if anything, he’ll probably be harder on you because he really wants to see you succeed.

he basically carries you through math

-> KNOWING MUNDANE FACTS ABOUT YOU:

i can see him knowing EVERYTHING about you. your birthday, your morning routine, your favorite snacks, your favorite songs, etc.

it doesn’t take a lot for him to remember this stuff either???

like, he thinks you’re unforgettable, so he just knows

-> WANTING TO IMPRESS YOU:

he wants you to know how cool he is so bad it’s laughable.

he’ll show off during training exercises FOR SUREEEE

bakusquad teases him abt it when he does lol they ALLL know how whipped he is for you

kirishima: wow, you’re really into it today bakugo!

denki: well (y/n) IS watching

bakugo: SHUT UP.

MISC HEADCANONS!

-> you enable him so much...like way too much. please get on that. someone needs to hold this stupid man accountable. he probably likes it when you scold him despite his protests so don’t be afraid to tell him off baby.

-> your approval makes his heart go $$/!/?!!!error??77776. like, even before you two started dating, he would ALWAYS feel flustered whenever you would compliment his outfits, fighting style, etc. now that you guys are dating, he still feels extremely dazed when you dote on him.

he’ll probably act super cocky about it though

“ ‘course i look good, idiot.”

he’s trying his best to suppress the stupid smile trying to take over his face. eventually, he lets it out, and tbh everyone in 1A knows that it’s because of smth cheesy you told him.

he is SUCH a softie for you it HURTTSSSS GAHHHH!!

-> katsuki is a very protective boyfriend.

this goes for everything, but especially applies during intense situations.

will literally lay his life down for you without thinking twice about it. don’t fight me on this. it’s canon.

if you’re going on a dangerous mission, you BEST believe this man is tagging along with you.

if for some reason he can’t go, he’ll make it a point to stay up way past his bed time waiting for you to come back.

when katsuki chooses you over sleep just know that you’ve won at life.

he doesn’t see you as inferior in any way. he knows you can handle yourself, but he really wants to keep you safe bc if something bad happened to the love of his life he would be in shambles.

on a lighter note, if mineta bugs you, he’ll absolutely wreck him. will literally punt that grape boy into the next stratosphere.

also!! he’s not the type to care about what you wear. if you’re wearing smth a bit more revealing, the most he’ll say is that you look hot. literally is so unbothered.

he trusts you a lot so it’s like 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

protective ≠ possessive

-> dates w/ him are super all over the place! one weekend, you guys will just chill in his dorm and the next he’ll be laughing maniacally as he chases you down during an intense round of laser tag.

-> he’s big fan of competition, so he’ll turn everything into one.

let him win.

-> his hands are really sensitive because of his quirk, so if you kissed them he’d turn to mush.

im literally begging you to touch this man. help him. he is so touch-starved it’s not funny.

-> he runs hot so cuddles w him are so nice and comforting :(. will pull you in close and tight and NEVER let go.

in short, while dating katsuki definitely comes with it’s quirks, it’s a beautiful relationship. he respects you endlessly and will do anything to ensure your happiness. treat him right and he’ll do the same!!

have fun dating explosion boy!

*do not repost my work without proper credit and my explicit permission

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#my hero academia #anime #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #mha headcanons #boyfriend bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x y/n #bakugo katsuki x you #bnha #mha x reader

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expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

Take a Load Off

2.5k

fluff, post-canon, human!cas, anxious dean, established dean/cas

(i saw this post by @emptymeg and couldn’t get it out of my head, so here’s a fic :)

also posted on ao3

“What’s in the box?” Dean asked, coming into the library to see Cas setting a large package on the map table with a huff. The table creaked under its weight. “Hey, name that movie.”

Cas cocked his head. “What movie?”

Dean groaned. “Seriously, dude, you’re hopeless. What’s in the box! Brad Pitt?” Cas shrugged and Dean sighed. “Forget it.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Cas said, fetching scissors from a drawer, “This box is for you. I bought you something.”

“Oh?” Dean came to the table, interest even more piqued. “What kind of something?”

Cas gave him a look. “Not what you’re thinking.” He cut through the tape securing the box. “I read that this can relieve stress and help you sleep better.”

“I already know something that can do that.” He added a wink for good measure.

“So,” Cas continued, ignoring him, “I thought you should try it. You haven’t been getting enough sleep lately and I’m worried about your anxiety levels.”

“Wait a moment,” Dean protested. “What do you mean, my ‘anxiety levels’?” Cas opened the box and he leaned over to look at the contents. Folded, silky dark grey fabric. “What is that, a blanket?”

“A weighted blanket,” Cas corrected, heaving it out of the box. “Twenty pounds.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He plucked at the fabric. “This is supposed to help?"

“It’s proven by science.” He nodded at a chair by Dean. “Go, sit.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sat down and Cas draped the blanket over him. “Fuck.” Dean lifted his arms up under the blanket, then dropped them. “This is actually heavy.”

“Do you feel relaxed?”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You don’t look it at all,” Cas deadpanned and Dean kicked at him. Cas pulled a brochure out of the box. “Soft cotton filled with poly pellets,” he read. “Alleviate anxiety and increase serotonin.” He studied Dean, eyes squinted. “You still look tense.”

“Sorry, Cas.” Dean shoved the blanket to the floor with a thump. “Think you got duped.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Cas grumbled, picking it up off the ground. “You have to give it a chance.”

“I just gave it a chance.” Standing, he brushed Cas’ hair off his forehead, gave him his best you love me smile. “Now, do you really wanna help me relax?”

Cas studied him for a long moment, then said, “Okay.” He carefully folded the blanket. “We’re keeping this, though. I still think it’ll work.”

Dean made a face behind his back and started to follow him out of the room, but the phone Sam had recently installed in the library for a hunter hotline started ringing. He groaned and Cas hesitated in the doorway.

“Do I have to?” Dean asked him.

“I suppose so,” Cas sighed and set the blanket down on a chair. Turns out the call was from a hunter out near Boise who needed help with a case. Of course, Sam was away visiting Eileen, so he and Cas got stuck spending the next two hours going over the case information, trying to figure out what the monster was. They finally settled on vetala, a whole pack of them, and after instructing the hunter on how to kill them, Dean hung up the phone.

“Fuck,” he swore, rubbing at his eyes. “Who knows how big the pack is. Could be a whole dozen of the freaks.”

“Well, now she knows how to kill them,” Cas said. “And there’s other hunters in the area who can help.”

“Yeah...” Dean fiddled with his pen, tapping it on the open pages of his dad’s journal.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean realized he was frowning. “Nothing.” Flexing his shoulders, he stretched out his back, stiff from poring over books. “Just, three people are already dead. I better be right that it’s a pack of vetala.”

Reaching over, Cas rubbed his back in small circles and Dean leaned back into his hand. “We did all we could, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t so sure that was true. But, short of driving all night out to Boise, he supposed there wasn’t much else they could do. Still, he didn’t like the idea that he might’ve missed a clue, might’ve misled the hunter. He clicked his pen again and again, going over the case in his mind, worst case scenarios—

“Are you going to sleep now?” Cas asked, and Dean glanced at him.

“No.” Dropping the pen, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Don’t think I can now.”

“Would you say you’re feeling stressed? Anxious, perhaps?” Cas deliberately looked to his right and Dean followed his gaze to the weighted blanket folded on a chair.

“Dude, don’t even start.”

“You should use it,” Cas urged. “There’s no shame in feeling anxious, I often feel the same way too.”

“I’ve dealt with worse before, this is nothing new. Just comes with the job.”

Cas sighed. “You put too much on your shoulders.”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, comes with the job.” If he wasn’t always on edge, he figured he was doing things wrong. Get too comfortable and bad things happened. Just the way it was.

“Still, you can admit you need a break.”

“Jeez, Cas, I’m wounded.” Dean pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Cas rolled his eyes and stood. “Don’t stay up too late.” He seemed to hesitate, fighting against saying more, and Dean said,

“I’m fine, Cas, really.”

“Okay.” Cas didn’t look too convinced, but he kissed Dean goodnight and headed off to their bedroom.

Dean cleaned up the mess of books and papers on the table, turned off the lamps just to do something with his hands. Normally, this is when he’d grab a drink, try to calm his head, but he’d been trying to cut back lately—blame Cas’ concern for his liver—so instead he decided to head to the Dean Cave. Maybe a few episodes of Dr. Sexy would distract himself enough to sleep.

Leaving the room, his eyes fell on the weighted blanket again. Cas and his ridiculous ideas. If Dean hadn’t been sleeping too well lately, that was just the result of living their kind of life. Nothing to do about it. Ignore the stress or end up drowning in it, that was his motto.

(And a horrible coping method, according to Sam and Cas)

Either way, lying under twenty pounds of “cotton and poly pellets” wasn’t going to help. Though the blanket had been really soft, he’d give it that.

He forgot all about it the following day, though, when Sam found a case a few towns over, and Dean and Cas drove over to meet him there. Disturbed gravesites, people disappearing near the cemetery at night. A ghoul, by all signs. A day of morgue visits and interviewing witnesses, then another two days of sitting parked in the cemetery, waiting for the ghoul to emerge again and feed. Dean was almost happy to see the thing when it crawled out of its grave. Almost.

Killing the damn thing hadn’t been too easy. But after inadvertently destroying a few gravestones, nearly falling into an open grave, and narrowly avoiding losing a few limbs, they finally bashed the ghoul’s brains in thoroughly, and split up from the cemetery. Dean went to speak to the latest victim’s mother while Cas and Sam got rid of the remains.

Returning to the bunker first, Dean showered, blood and ghoul remains washing away down the drain. But even the warm water couldn’t ease the jitteriness sitting high in his chest. The ghoul had been strong, fast, and Dean’s heart had leapt into his throat when it got a hold of Sam. Even Cas had struggled to stop the thing, gunshots only serving to anger the son of a bitch more.

Getting out of the shower, he scrubbed himself dry with his towel, inspected a cut along his arm. Not deep enough for stitches. If Sam had avoided a concussion, they were lucky. The ghoul was dead, at least. Left a dozen ruined graves and a few torn apart teenagers in its wake, but dead.

As he changed into clean clothes, he heard the bunker door open. “All good?” he asked, entering the war room to find Sam and Cas setting down their bags.

“If you mean will the trunk always reek like ghoul, then yes,” Sam said. He grimaced as he took off his boots, muddy footprints already leaving a trail down the bunker stairs. Then he glanced at his phone and smiled, said, “Eileen’s calling.”

“Whipped,” Dean mouthed at him as Sam answered his phone, smiling at the screen and walking off down the hallway. “Well,” he told Cas, ”you look like shit.”

Cas gave him his best, I can smite you even without my grace look. “Charming.” He headed off down the hallway towards their bedroom and Dean followed. “How did Mrs. Landis take the news?”

Dean sucked in a breath. “Uh, 'bout how you'd expect, I guess. Told her a bear had gotten to her son, but it was all taken care of now. Not much else to say.”

The mother had sobbed and thanked him. He’d done a piss poor job of comforting her and left with an all-too-familiar sick feeling in his stomach; they hadn’t done enough, they could never save everyone.

“And you?” Cas asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Dean as he pushed open the door to their bedroom. “Are you alright?”

Dean started to nod, say fine, but he knew Cas would see straight through the lie. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Just shook up. Coulda been a bad one.”

Cas nodded as he pulled off his trenchcoat, the edges bloody and muddy. “We’re all safe. You don’t have to torture yourself thinking about what could’ve happened.”

Dean shut his eyes, took a deep breath. “I know.” Easier said than done.

He heard Cas’s footsteps, then felt Cas’ fingers on his cheek and tilted his head into his palm. Breathed in and out. Cas smelled like blood and guts and sweat, not a particularly pleasant combination, but his hand was warm and his other hand was carding through his hair and, shit, that felt nice.

“Go to sleep,” Cas said quietly. “You need rest.”

Dean nodded and Cas kissed the top of his head. He left to take a shower and Dean scrubbed his hands over his face.

Fuck, this hunt had been a close one. Closer than they’d had in a long time.

Dropping his hands, his eyes settled on the weighted blanket that Cas had left folded on the chair at the desk, a silent plea for him to use it. He rolled his eyes. Anxious, his ass.

He started to pull the covers back on the bed, but the thought of lying down with the hunt running on repeat through his head was less than appealing. Cas’ trenchcoat hung bloody on the wall, and Dean clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, adrenaline and nerves still rushing through him.

Alright, maybe a little anxious.

With a glance at the door to convince himself Cas would be in the shower for a little while longer, he grabbed the blanket, brought it to their bed.

Getting under the covers, he draped the blanket over himself and lay down, shifting to get comfortable. Once settled, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the miracle blanket to work its wonders. How much money had Cas spent on this shit? He really had to hide the credit cards.

He shifted again, the mattress creaking, and dropped back with a huff. Not that he didn’t appreciate Cas trying to help, but a twenty-pound blanket wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was a full night of sleep and a blow job and an all-expenses-paid trip to Cancún. His nose was itchy, his knee was bruised, his back was fucked up from getting thrown against a gravestone, Sam had already found another case in Albuquerque, and, fuck, he was just so damn tired.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to breathe through the sensation of his chest tightening. He could feel the blanket rise and fall with every deliberate breath, and he counted like Sam had taught him years ago when he’d woken with a panic attack—breathe in for seven seconds, hold for four, let out for eight.

Don’t think about what could’ve happened. We’re all safe. Cas is safe, Sam is safe. I’m safe.

His heartbeat slowly settled. The blanket’s weight was strangely comforting, warm, trapping him under the covers. Forced to stay still, he felt his limbs slowly relax into the mattress, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating, his back easing and hands curling loosely along the sheets.

Okay. Shit. Maybe there was something to this weighted blanket thing. His mind grew hazier as his thoughts began to wander, and he found himself drifting off to sleep when the bedroom door creaked open and startled his eyes open.

“You’re using it,” Cas whispered excitedly, standing in the doorway. “Are you relaxed?”

“Fuck off,” Dean told him. He would’ve flipped him off, but that would require lifting his hand out from under the blanket and he was too—dammit, Cas was right—relaxed to move.

“I knew it would be perfect,” Cas said, sounding too triumphant. Shutting the door softly, he got into bed next to him—well, tried to. He shoved at the blanket encroaching on his side of the bed. “Dean, move over.”

“Nope.” Dean shut his eyes again. “Reap what you have sown.”

Grumbling, Cas turned off the light and got under the covers with more rustling and movement than necessary. Finally, he settled down. The bunker hummed, the heating running, the pipes in the walls creaking as a shower turned on down the hallway. The blanket heavy on top of him, Dean began to fall asleep again.

“Are you really gonna keep that on all night?” Cas asked, disturbing the quiet.

“Yup.”

Cas huffed and Dean could only keep up the ruse for a few more seconds before lifting the edge of the blanket. “Come on, get under.”

Sliding over, Cas got underneath, and they laid side by side, pressed against each other. Their fingers brushed, and Dean crooked a finger around Cas’ thumb.

“This is nice,” Cas commented, voice quiet. “I’m glad it’s helping.”

“Mhm.” He was starting to think he should’ve bought one of these things a long time ago. He hadn’t realized how strung out he was before until now, all the tension in his body slipping away.

Cas shifted onto his side and Dean blinked open his eyes to look at him. “I guess I was right all along, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t push it.” He caught Cas’ smile in the dark and elbowed him on principle before shifting over to kiss him. Then he tugged at Cas’ arm and turned onto his side, prompting Cas to press close against his back and wrap an arm around him.

He smiled, eyes falling shut at the warm press of the blanket and Cas’ body around his. Now he was relaxed.

tag list:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

#missed all the drama about the 15x20 script bc i was writing this last night #finale who?#dean and cas are alive and thriving #destiel fic #cw anxiety #expectingtofly writes #fluff

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