#the hand we've been dealt

[imtrashraccoon]

Hello everyone!

Next Day

A month ago I saw a post by @scrambledmeggys (I hope you don't mind me tagging you!) for a month's worth of prompts for Self Shipping with UF! Papyrus. I originally wanted to try my hand at art but I am much better at writing imo, so here is what I've come up with so far!

I missed Day 1 so now I'm uploading that and Day 2 at the same time. I'm planning on continuing to write a continuous storyline with these prompts but I am pretty much making things up as I go lol.

Edit: I actually drew something for this chapter here if you want to check it out!

Day 1: First Meeting

You walked carefully through the snow, cringing slightly from the loud crunching sound it made, interrupting the otherwise quiet winter morning.

You were in a tough spot to say the least.

The fall had been an accident. One moment, your little friend was innocently kicking stones down the sink hole, and the next, they'd slipped and fell in. Of course, you'd tried your hardest to catch them but then you lost your balance and plunged in after them.

Against all odds, you'd both survived the fall. While your friend had thankfully only sustained a few small cuts, especially because you managed to shield them from the impact, you on the other hand had hit your head pretty hard. The bleeding had stopped by now but you still felt weak and rather lightheaded.

Still, you had to keep going. You had to find a way to get Frisk back to the surface. They were still a child, barely six, and had their whole life ahead of them afterall.

Speaking of, Frisk lightly tapped your shoulder and you paused so they could tell you what was on their mind. Shifting them from your back around your body until you were facing them, you flashed them a small smile.

"What happened?" you asked quietly.

Frisk's face reflexively screwed up. "You died again..." they signed slowly.

Your smile fell. "I'm sorry..." you murmured and let out a sigh.

You didn't understand how or why, but ever since falling down here, Frisk had seemingly developed an amazing power that allowed them to reset time to previous safe points. They didn't really know how to explain it but they claimed it was sort of like reloading a video game.

You didn't know how many times you'd apparently died so far, as Frisk hadn't been keeping track. You were instead focusing on doing your best to keep moving forward. Still, you were pretty concerned for them.

While you didn't remember any of your deaths up to this point, you knew Frisk did and while neither of you was discussing it, you knew this was something that would need to be dealt with. Once you got back to the surface, you would need to get therapy and figure out how to do the same for Frisk. They would definitely benefit from it at least.

Frisk patted your shoulder and you realized you'd zoned out. "It's alright, I'm getting used to it." They smiled but you knew it was a forced one.

"I promise I will keep you safe. No matter what happens, we will get through this together," you said.

Frisk nodded and their expression took on a more determined look.

You took a deep breath. "Let's do this again then," you muttered and started to shift Frisk back into a piggyback hold.

"Watch out for the skeleton up ahead," Frisk signed before wrapping their arms around your shoulders again.

You raised an eyebrow. Was that who'd killed you? Frisk hadn't elaborated further but you didn't blame them. You'd died a couple times to the traps in the Ruins and many times during your escape from Toriel. Many of those had apparently been pretty grisly if how shaken Frisk had been afterwards was any indication.

< ~ - . - ~ >

Someone was stalking you. While you were trying not to think about it, you were getting pretty anxious. Frisk hadn't said anything else so you just focused on continuing forwards.

Until you came to a narrow bridge with wooden bars across it that is. While you could still get through the gap between the bars with little effort, before you could do so, you heard footsteps approaching from behind you.

Frisk tightened their hold on your shoulders and you quickly turned around to put yourself between them and this new person.

It was a skeleton but not quite like what human skeletons looked like. He was only slightly taller than you were, but his bones seemed thicker and sturdier which gave him quite a bit of added bulk.

He was wearing a gray hoodie with a fur fringe, a red turtle neck sweater underneath, a pair of basketball shorts, and a pair of high tops. His smile was filled with sharp teeth, one of which was gold, and there was a pair of crimson pinpricks in his otherwise empty eye sockets that regarded you suspiciously.

"well, well, what have we here?" he drawled as his eyelights flickered over your body.

You narrowed your eyes in response, feeling a wave of disgust at the way he was eyeing you up. "My eyes are up here, thank you very much," you muttered through grit teeth.

The skeleton chuckled, "ah, my bad." He held out his right hand and added, "name's sans, sans the skeleton. and you are?"

Before you could actually shake his hand though, Frisk squeezed your shoulder. You assumed they were warning you not to, so you didn't.

"Rihanna," you said in response.

Sans raised a bonebrow when you left him hanging but seemed ultimately unbothered, which was a relief. "i'd say it's nice to meet ya, but that'd be a lie," he said and flashed a slightly menacing grin at you.

If you weren't holding Frisk, you would've crossed your arms, so instead you just gave him an unamused look.

Sans chuckled and started to walk around you, "ya know, i'm supposed to be on the look out for humans right now, but i don't really care about capturin' anyone."

You remained facing him as he walked until you'd essentially swapped places. You held Frisk a bit closer as well, just in case you'd have to run.

"now my brother, Papyrus, well, he's a human huntin' fanatic," Sans continued. He glanced through the wooden fence and added, "go on through, he made the bars too wide to stop anyone anyways." He turned and strode casually across the bridge as if to demonstrate.

You glanced at Frisk over your shoulder and they nodded. Well, at least he didn't seem like he wanted to immediately kill you like most monsters you'd met so far. So you followed him, although you maintained a safe distance just to be on the safe side.

Sans paused near a wooden booth up ahead and looked further down the path. As you walked over to him, he made a quiet "huh" sound. "ya know what, i think that's my brother comin' this way now..." There was a slightly amused tinge to the tone of his voice as he spoke which sent a wave of irritation through you.

You glanced over where he was looking and immediately spotted a tall skeleton wearing black armour with red accents approaching. Even from this distance, you could tell he was pissed and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Frisk squirmed in your grip to be let down and while you didn't want to let go of them, you relented and let go. They thankfully stayed behind you and clutched onto one of your pant legs.

You knelt down next to them and ruffled their fluffy hair a little. Flashing them a small smile, you whispered, "We doing this?"

Frisk got a familiar determined look and nodded. "I'll help you! I think we can talk him down if you say the right things."

You chuckled and stood up again, ready to face this new opponent. You could get through this, in fact, you would get through this...for Frisk's sake.

Papyrus certainly looked familiar and part of you wondered if he was actually the one who'd killed you last time. It would make sense, as he definitely looked more dangerous than Sans.

He was at least a foot taller than you were and looked quite a bit different from his brother. He still had sturdy bones but his frame was a lot more angular compared to Sans' more bulky look. He had sharp teeth as well, although his eyelights were a slightly different shade, maybe a scarlet? His left eye socket also had two long scars across it, presumably from a fight.

Besides his black chestplate, Papyrus also wore long red gloves, a red scarf that was more of a cape, and tall red boots with heels surprisingly. If you weren't battling to remain calm, you probably would've complimented his bold fashion sense. You didn't know of anyone else who could look so menacing and...hot at the same time.

"Sans! You Lazybones! You Have Not Reset Your Traps Yet Today! What If A Human Comes..." He paused mid rant when he took in your appearance.

Sans bristled and the corners of his smile fell slightly. He seemed like he was about to retort in kind but stopped himself.

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets at you as if he was scrutinizing your appearance. He slowly strode forward, stopping a few feet away from you. "Why Does It Feel Like I Have Met You Before, Human?" he asked in a chillingly quiet tone.

You stared up at him unblinkingly and crossed your arms. "I could ask the same actually..." you answered.

Papyrus glanced at Sans, who merely shrugged. "don't ask me, bro," he hissed.

Frisk tugged at your pant leg to get your attention. When you glanced down, they quickly signed what was on their mind. "Flirt with him."

You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting and drawing too much attention. Why would they suggest such a thing? Where had this child even picked up the concept of flirting? If this worked, you were going to have a serious discussion with them at some point.

"So, Papyrus," you started to say, catching his attention once again. "Do you have more bones than the average human or would you like to find out?" You mentally kicked yourself for that one but tried to maintain face and batted your eyelashes at him.

Papyrus stared at you for a solid five seconds before the meaning of your question seemed to set it. A dusting of scarlet flickered across his cheekbones and he stepped back from you, covering his mouth as he did so.

You smiled and stepped slightly closer to him. Feeling slightly bolder, you called upon everything you had learned from sucking up to college professors and your boss.

"If I may be so bold, I think you also look very cool. Like seriously, humans dress so boring in comparison." You made a bit of a show of looking him up and down, nodding approvingly. "I'm actually jealous of how cool you are."

Papyrus opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it. The scarlet blush wasn't disappearing no matter how hard he probably wished it would. He stammered and stepped back again.

"You... Your Flattery Will Not Save You, Human." He scoffed and turned on his heal. As he stormed off, you heard him mutter something along the lines of, "Not Being Able To Talk Your Way Out Of My Traps."

You couldn't believe that had worked. You scooped Frisk into your arms and hugged them tightly. "You have some explaining to do later, kiddo..." you muttered but Frisk only grinned at you, clearly proud of themselves.

"wow, i can't tell if you're insane or just lucky. either way, i'll be keepin' an eye socket on ya, human..." Sans said quietly.

You chuckled and flashed him a triumphant grin, which caused him to huff and walk away in the direction you had come from. You'd survived just a little bit longer it seemed.

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #reader #named oc #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #thwbd #the hand we've been dealt #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

[kineticpenguin]

#electoralism #the hand we've been dealt #Beau of the Fifth Column

[natsmagi]

congrats to natsume for becoming a father or whatever leo said in that scene

even crazier

is leo talking about himself. is he the baby. he does kind of look like the two of them combined if you squint. is he implying tsumugi...........? no.................... surely not................................

#WHY IS ALL THE DIALOGUE IN RELATION TO NATSUME AND TSUMUGIS RELATIONSHIP SO WILD #i love them #“why are all ntmgPs so weird” have u seen the fuckming source material #have u seen what we're cooking with #no amount of weirdness can even compare to what canon throws at us #u have to be at least a little weird in order to appreciate their dynamic fully thats just the hand we've been dealt #ask

[orcelito]

What they don't tell you about losing a parent is that there is so so so so much to do

#speculation nation #my elder sister is gonna be executive of estate (once we get that sorted out bc we couldnt find his WILL) #so i thankfully wont have to deal with as much of the legal stuff #but im still gonna try to help out as much as possible #went through his papers yesterday and set up some preliminary stuff #gonna meet at the funeral home monday to arrange that. tuesday we're going to do some legal stuff for the will establishment #gonna have to take inventory of EVERY. SINGLE. THING. in his house. for tax purposes. #im gonna be inheriting a good amount of things probably. both a blessing and a curse #in that i didnt wanna fucking lose my father for it #but this is the hand we've been dealt and we're dealing with it. #i got excused from my last week of work Thank God so im hanging around longer than originally planned #gonna get my cats today. i fed them enough to last to today but that was when i thought id only be down for 2 days #no work to deal with now. i'll figure it out. #part of me's sad that it really ended just like that. didnt get to properly say goodbye to the store #but at the same time. my dad's death is so much more important. so i'll deal. #it was already gonna be a transitory time. but now it is INTENSELY so. #anyways thats why i havent been around much. i have quite a lot to do.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again

Read on AO3

Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.

"No, you can't," he replies.

You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.

The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.

"Please, just put me down," you implore.

"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.

"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"

Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.

"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"

"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."

"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"

"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."

"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"

"It can be arranged!"

The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.

"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."

You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.

He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.

The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.

"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.

The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.

"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.

"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.

"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.

You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.

You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.

You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.

… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.

You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.

And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.

Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.

"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.

You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.

"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.

"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."

You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.

"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.

You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.

A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.

He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.

"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.

"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."

He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."

"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."

You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.

He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.

"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."

A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.

"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."

"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.

"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.

"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."

"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."

You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."

You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."

You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.

"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."

You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.

"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."

He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.

"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."

You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.

"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."

You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.

"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.

"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."

He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.

"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.

"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.

You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.

"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."

He returns to the book he was reading.

"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.

"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"

You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.

"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"

You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…

Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."

You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.

"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."

Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?

"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.

"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.

"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."

You giggle.

"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.

A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.

"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #spacebarbarian fics

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction

[adventures-written]

Tag dump (5/6)

My tags disappeared.

#v;; drunken lieutenant (main; hank anderson) #v;; don't disappoint me (main; amanda) #v;; creator of cyberlife (main; elijah kamski) #v;; the hand we've been dealt (samuel drake) #v;; the man who delivers (main; sam porter bridges) #v;; the particle of god that permeates all existence (main; higgs monaghan) #v;; we are survivors (main; joel) #v;; i walk through the valley of the shadow of death (main; ellie) #v;; our family doesn't run from things (main; miles morales) #v;; the dead soldier (side; wilhelm) #v;; i've got student loans (side; timothy lawrence) #v;; freedom at last (side; timothy lawrence) #v;; programming dreams (side; handsome jack) #v;; artificial handsomeness (side; handsome jack) #v;; everybody wants to rule the world (side; handsome jack) #v;; nobody's hero (side; handsome jack) #v;; built this from the ashes (side; rhys) #v;; handsome rhys (side; rhys) #v;; hired help (side; zane flynt) #v;; living deviancy (side; connor) #v;; we are machines (side; connor) #v;; only human (side; connor; amanda; rk900) #v;; it can't be for nothing (side; ellie) #v;; into the spider-verse (side; miles morales)

[formosusiniquis]

y'know like barbie

ao3

It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.

The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.

Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.

It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.

It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"

So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"

Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.

"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.

It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be. 

"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."

Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."

He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."

"Famous last words."

He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.

“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”

“That’s not how you play Barbies.”

It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”

“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”

“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”

“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”

“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”

Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”

“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”

“Right.”

-

So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.

Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.

“Like father, like son.”

“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”

“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”

“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”

“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”

“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”

Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”

“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”

Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.

It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”

See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.

“I know, like Barbie.”

That shuts Dustin up real quick.

“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”

“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”

“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”

The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.

He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.

-

The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.

And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.

So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”

He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”

And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”

“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”

Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”

“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.

It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.

Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.

Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"

Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.

"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."

"What so not like Barbie?"

"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.

He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."

It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.

“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”

He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.

El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”

She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.

“You are worse than Dad.”

“That stings, Ellie Bell.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”

“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”

“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”

He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”

“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”

He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.

"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.

"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."

He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.

Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.

His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.

It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."

And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.

He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."

Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.

Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.

And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."

Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."

Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.

"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.

"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."

"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."

And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."

Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."

Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"

"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.

"The girls don't think I'm hot."

He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.

"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.

"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."

"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."

The things he'll say to get laid.

"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though." 

His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.

"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."

-

He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.

So he lets opportunity pass him by.

He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.

Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)

Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.

He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.

He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.

-

Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.

He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.

When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.

"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"

"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.

Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic. 

He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.

"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"

"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.

"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.

"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.

"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.

"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."

Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.

"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."

"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."

"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"

"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.

"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"

"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.

"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.

"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"

#steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #and in 1996 when steve and eddie are expecting their first kid - a daughter #erica gifts them the barbie camper so steve has something while he waits for the real thing #listen you know that oh like barbie post with the steve speaking image below it #i saw that and this happened #i just wanted to try out a little steve and erica bonding #and it turned into steve being a bitchy big brother #steve and eddies love language is being dicks #but their secondary love language is not letting the bit die and i do believe that #so eddie had to take it up when steve set it down

[theghostofashton]

-

#sometimes i get hit by this wave of like.... idk exhaustion i guess? seeing the way white conservatives go on and on about crt #and 'anti-white rhetoric' #and all this stuff about how the radical left is teaching white kids to hate themselves boo hoo poor them #the fact that all this is bs aside it's just....so fucking sickening to me lol #and it's like..... so you mean what kids of color have experienced their entire lives? #feeling shame and guilt for existing simply bc of who you are? #being treated like you're less than for literally no reason #like that's my life that's the lives of children of color in this country #and white people are so afraid of not even being oppressed simply learning about what we've dealt with at their hands #bc it might make them ~upset~ #that they'd rather us continue to feel awful about ourselves while their children get to live on in their privileged bubbles #it's just so. gutting i guess that what they're so afraid of is not even a fraction of what we've been forced to live with #and they get to make this huge stink about it bc their white feelings have always mattered more #while we continue to suffer lol #idk i've been watching a lot of john oliver lately and i just. #sometimes coping w white peoples' audacity is A Lot lol #neha rambles

[octoberclidan]

I Don't Want You to Leave

Request: Can i request Dean or sam Winchester x f!angel reader, where she comes to help him (s3-4 based) and he just gets to attached to her so he purposely gets her to help him, and she ends up staying permanently 💕

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"Angels don't exist", Dean scoffed at the woman who stood in front of him and his brother. She had just single handedly killed three demons; two with a silver blade and one just by touching his forehead. "So I'm gonna ask you one more time, what the hell are you?" He had his gun pointed at her, as did Sam, but she didn't seem phased by them.

"I already told you, I'm an angel". She glanced between the two brothers. "Usually I would've introduced myself as an angel of the Lord, but I no longer wish to be associated with him".

"So what, you're a... a fallen angel?" Sam asked, frowning at her but keeping his aim steady.

"No, not yet at least", she said as she wiped her blade and tucked it into the inside of her coat. "My brothers and sisters don't know that I'm here, and they won't be happy when they find out, so I suggest we go somewhere more private to talk. I'll meet you at your motel room". She vanished in front of them, leaving the two Winchesters extremely confused.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, walking over to the space where she had been standing and waving his hand around in the empty air.

"Did you see how she burned his eyes out with just her touch? And her blade acted just like Ruby's knife", Sam said, lowering his gun. "This is big, Dean".

"It has to be some sort of demon", Dean said. "And it's in our motel room", he shook his head as he began to walk towards the Impala. Sam caught up to him and the two of them got into the car.

"Why are you so convinced that she isn't an angel?" Sam asked as Dean started up the engine.

"Because they don't exist".

"How do you know?"

"How many hunters do you know who've met an angel? Don't you think that if they existed we would know before now?"

"Yeah but Dean.. you made a deal to go to Hell. You literally have two weeks left, so if Hell exists, why not Heaven too? Why do you believe in one and not the other?"

"Demons, Sam!" Dean was getting fed up with him now. Being so close to being dragged to Hell had him on edge too. "We've dealt with demons. We've killed them, we've seen them with our own eyes. We've dealt with Hellhounds, we know Hell exists".

"I'm just saying, maybe have an open mind about it. Maybe she can help, she killed those demons, so maybe she knows a way to undo your deal while keeping me alive too".

"Sam", Dean sighed. "I'm not messing with the deal. If I do something to save myself and it kills you in the process... no. I'm not taking that chance. And neither are you". Dean was firm with his statement. If doing anything to his deal had a chance of undoing it and killing Sam again, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He wouldn't stop until he could find another way to make the same deal again. "We need to find Lilith, Bela told us that she holds the contract to all deals. She's the only one who we can try to end the deal with".

It was only a short drive back to the motel that the boys were staying in. They both had their guns at the ready as they walked into the room. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the sigils that covered the walls, and the woman that was sitting patiently on the bed. "What's all of this?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes trained on her.

"Warding, against angels. I don't want them listening to us. You can put your guns away, they won't hurt me anyway, and I'm not here to hurt you".

"You'll forgive us for being a bit cautious", Dean smiled sarcastically at her, his gun kept pointed straight at her, though Sam let his drop a bit.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sam asked from behind Dean.

"My name is [Y/N], and I am here to help you", she said.

"We don't need your help", Dean snapped at her. "I sure as hell haven't prayed to anything".

"Aren't you scheduled to be dragged to Hell in two weeks? Have you found a way to save yourself?" She asked.

"Wait, you can stop that? You can stop the deal?"

She was about to respond to Sam's question, but Dean cut her off. "Bullshit. We've looked into everything. There is no way to end the deal without risking Sam's life, and I'm not doing that".

"There is", she said, matter-of-factly. "It's not very straightforward, but it's possible. Sam will be in no danger", she assured him. At this stage, Sam had tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, but Dean hadn't moved.

"Why? Why help us?"

"Heaven has a plan for you, Dean. You too, Sam", she looked between the two brothers. "I want to put a stop to their plan, and the only way to do that is to stop you from torturing souls in Hell". She stared at Dean as she said this.

"Torturing souls? Sweetheart, I think the whole idea of me being dragged to Hell is that it will be my soul being tortured, not me doing the torturing". He shifted slightly and readjusted his grip on his gun. "What exactly is Heaven's 'plan' for us? Why are they interested in us?" He had to admit, she'd piqued his interest.

She sighed, and stood up, walking over to the window to glance behind the closed curtain. "You're the first seal", she said. When both brothers raised an eyebrow at her, she continued. "Heaven wants a fight between Lucifer and Michael. It would mean almost certain destruction of this world".

"Lucifer? Michael? As in archangels?" Sam asked and she nodded.

"Yes, Lucifer has been trapped in a cage in Hell for a very long time. He will need to be released in order to fight Michael. In order to release him, a number of seals must be broken. There is one that needs to be broken first, and that is where you come in, Dean", she turned to face fully. "The first seal will be broken when a richeous man sheds blood in Hell".

"Well, there's your problem solved. I wouldn't do that". Dean gave her another sarcastic smile but [Y/N] shook her head at him.

"You would. You're strong, Dean, but time works differently down there. You'd hold on for years, decades even, but eventually even you will break. They'll tear you apart every day, just to build you back up again and start over the next day. They'll torture you tirelessly without a break until you crack. They'll offer you an out; no more torture for you if you become the torturer. You will accept it, it would only be a matter of time".

"Okay, okay, well even if that's true, you said there are a number of seals, so we could just not break the second one".

"It doesn't work like that", she sighed. "It doesn't need to be you who breaks the rest of the seals, they just need you to break the first. There are over 600 different seals, and Lilith only needs to break 65 after the first is broken. You couldn't possibly predict which seals she will go after and when, especially not when the angels in charge want her to break them".

"Lilith?" Sam asked. "We've been trying to track her down to undo Dean's deal".

"She won't undo the deal. She needs Dean to go to Hell to break the first seal". She walked over to Dean and gently lifted her hand to rest on top of his gun. She looked him in the eyes as she lowered his hand, and, surprisingly to Sam, he let her. "Let me help you". He studied her eyes for a long moment, looking for deception, or any sign of ill intent, but he saw only genuineness. He sighed, and looked back to Sam, before shaking his head, almost in a last attempt to shake off the new hope she'd given him, before he looked back at her.

"Fine, but I still don't trust you".

***

"Who are you texting?" Sam asked from opposite Dean in a small diner in the middle of nowhere. They were light on work at the moment and had taken a 'lead' that was literally just a newspaper article about three men who'd gone missing in a town that hadn't had a missing person case in over twenty years. There weren't really that many people to go missing though, the town was tiny.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed, still focused on texting while waiting for his food.

"I asked you who you're texting, you look like you're concentrating very hard", Sam chuckled.

"[Y/N]", Dean said back, almost dismissing Sam like he was a pestering child.

"[Y/N], huh?" Sam smirked and Dean glanced up at his teasing tone just in time to see it.

"Yes, she is an angel, she managed to stop the apocalypse, so maybe, just maybe, she can help us when we're at a dead end".

"Mhmm", Sam nodded, pretending to take his brother seriously. After [Y/N] had saved Dean from his contract with Lilith while keeping Sam safe and stopping Lucifer from escaping in the process, Dean had caved in and finally accepted that she was an angel. He couldn't really deny it after she'd shown off her wings either. He'd been finding reasons to call on her for several weeks now, and Sam had a strong feeling that he liked her for more than just her ability to help them out. She was an angel, she couldn't be killed on werewolf or vampire hunts, ghosts couldn't hurt her, curses didn't affect her. Dean didn't have to worry about her, and that was a first for him. He also didn't have to worry about Sam as much, as [Y/N] never showed any hesitation in healing either of them even though they'd never asked her to.

"Hi Dean", her voice slightly startled the two Winchesters, they still weren't used to her just appearing out of thin air. "Sam", she smiled at Sam before sitting down beside him, looking across the table at Dean who was in the middle of a text message. "I thought it would be more efficient to speak in person".

"Uh, yeah, hey". Dean's cheeks blushed a light pink, and Sam was finding it difficult to disguise his chuckle as a cough.

"There's no case here. The three men who went missing left of their own free will".

"Really? Was it connected somehow?" Sam asked, angling himself to face her.

"Yes... the three men are together. They didn't want the judgement of their families and friends, so they left to find a larger city where they could have some anonymity and live in peace".

"Together... like, together together?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"In a relationship together, yes". She confirmed and Dean whistled, leaning back in his seat, no longer on the job.

"Case closed I guess", he shrugged. "What are you up to? Are you busy?" He asked, trying to sound casual as he attempted to lean his arm on the back of the seat, but ended up awkwardly having to put it down again as he realised the back rest was too high up.

"No, I'm not busy. Since ruining the chances of setting Lucifer free, the angels have lost interest their plans and are just doing their own thing. There's a lot of disorganisation at the moment, a lot of angels are wandering around earth for the first time or exploring other worlds. Luckily there are some who still care for Heaven and the souls that reside there, but I have no purpose anymore".

"That's a bit... depressing. Are you okay?" Sam asked and Dean leaned forward, a look of concern on his face.

"Yes", she said, looking between the two of them. "I'm fine".

"Well... if you're not busy, why don't you stick around? We'll be looking for a new case now, you could help us, work with us", Dean suggested, and she took a moment to think about it. He studied her face as she looked away from both of them, weighing her options. She was pretty, anyone could see that, but there was something else to her. He couldn't explain how, but she looked pure, and good, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her. He didn't realise he'd been subconsciously leaning forward to get closer to her until he lost his balance and had to slam his hand down on the table to stop himself from falling over. Everyone in the diner looked towards them at the noise, and Dean's embarrassment was extremely apparent on his face as he cleared his throat and mumbled something to himself.

"I think what Dean is trying to say, is that he'd like you to stick around more", Sam said, earning himself a kick in the shin under the table from Dean.

"Is that true?" She asked him, and he swore he recognised a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Yeah... just if you want to I mean".

"I would", she nodded, and the conversation fell silent. After a moment, the boys' food arrived at the table and [Y/N] stood up. "I have a few things to take care of, then later I will meet you at your motel room and we can look for a case". Before giving either of them a chance to respond, she was gone.

Dean smiled to himself and started to dig into his food, only looking up to catch Sam smirking again. "What?" Dean mumbled through his full mouth.

"You'd swear you'd never seen a girl before", Sam laughed. "What was that? You were acting like a fourteen year old on his first date".

"Shut up", Dean shook his head at Sam. "She's not a girl". He watched as Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "I just mean she's not a girl that I'd hook up with, you know, like in a bar or something. She's a literal angel, she's not even human, how exactly am I supposed to act around someone like that?"

"I'm just amused that you've gone from calling her something to someone".

"Yeah, well, you'd be hosting Lucifer and I'd be hosting Michael and we'd be fighting each other to the death if it wasn't for her, so I think she's earned the upgrade".

***

After they'd finished their food, they headed back to their motel room to pack up their things and wait for [Y/N]. Sam decided to head out and get some new supplies, since they didn't know how far they'd be travelling for their next case. He left Dean behind with his laptop, giving him strict instructions that it was only to be used for hunting purposes. It wasn't long after Sam left that [Y/N] showed up in the room beside Dean.

"Hi Dean", she said, causing him to jump in his seat slightly, shutting the laptop down a little too hard and little too quickly.

"You have got to start knocking", he said, turning around to face her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to all the various customs", she said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. He didn't know if she noticed how often he blushed around her, or if she just assumed that he permanently had pink cheeks and just hadn't commented on it.

"Well, if you hang around with us more, you'll get the hang of things in no time", he smiled at her. "Uh, we don't really have much here to offer you, unless you want to get take out or something? I don't mind driving somewhere to pick up something if you're hungry".

"I don't need to eat".

"Oh, yeah. I forgot, sorry". The room filled with silence as they sat there looking at each other. Dean wasn't used to being lost for words, or not knowing what to say. He wasn't used to being so nervous around someone.

"When Sam said that you'd like for me to stick around more, is that just on cases? If so, I can come back when you find one", [Y/N] said as she stood up from the bed.

"No", Dean immediately stood up from his chair and took two steps towards here so he could grab her arms, afraid that she would disappear again. "Sorry", he said as he realised what he was doing, and let go of her. "God, Sam was right. I promise you I'm not usually this awkward or weird".

"Why are you so nervous?" She asked as she placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly. He covered her hand with his, and he suddenly felt much calmer.

"Because you make me nervous", he said, looking down at her.

"I don't intend to".

"I know. You just.. you're so different to anyone I've ever known. You're able to heal people, you can teleport, you're so strong and beautiful and you rebelled against everything you'd ever known just to save people when so many of us didn't even deserve it".

"You think my vessel is beautiful, you don't know what my true form looks like. You and Sam deserved to be saved, and so many others too".

"No, it's not just your vessel. I think you're beautiful". He curled his fingers around her hand to hold it, and grabbed her other hand to pull it up to his chest too. "It's the effect you have on me, your desire to help those who need it, to heal, to protect, to fight. I think about those who don't deserve to be saved, you think about those who do. That's what makes me nervous, you're almost too perfect to be real, and I don't deserve someone like you in my life. I'm not good enough to have you, but I don't want you to go anywhere, I don't want you to leave".

She didn't know what to say to him, no one had ever spoken to her like that before. She slowly leaned up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, watching as his eyes closed and he breathed out a sigh of relief. When she stood back down, he opened his eyes and looked down at her again. Before he could risk her disappearing in front of him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, both of them a bit unsure, both of them cautious. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to leave", he repeated.

"I won't. I'll stick around".

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn fluff #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #light angst

[familyvideostevie]

hey! do you think you could do a steve x reader fic that's grumpy x sunshine? ty in advance!

i have truly had this in my inbox for over a year, so i am so very sorry for hoarding it. i've twisted it a little -- here we've got what happens when you, usually the sunshine to steve's grumpy, has a bit of a bad day yourself. hope you like! sunshine!reader and grumpy!steve on a day when you're the grumpy one | fluff, 1.2k

Steve notices immediately. It's kind of weird, actually. He leans heavily against your door as he shuts it behind him, toeing off his shoes. The plastic of the takeout bags digs into his hands a little but he's just glad to be here, glad to finally see you after a long day. He likes your place better than his and he likes you best of all.

But something is off. There's no music, no familiar smell of that beachy candle he bought you burning. Are you napping? It's possible, but you sounded pretty excited when you called him at lunch asking him to come for dinner. And Steve, sue him, kind of expected you to greet him.

It's kind of an asshole thought, he can admit that, but you always do. You're always nothing short of thrilled to see him, your boyfriend, like he's been away for years rather than a day of work. You throw your arms around him and sing-song his name and kiss him sloppily because you're smiling so wide. Your love for him is infectious and he feels it all the way to his bones.

Because he's not exactly known for being a nice guy, right? Sure, he's not like, a jackass, not anymore, but he's not exactly cheery all the time. He's quieter than he was, a little more serious. It just comes with the territory. Getting older, dealing with shit. God knows he's dealt with a lot of shit.

But you? You're fucking sunshine. There's no other way to put it. He has no idea where you get your endless smiles for him, the laughter that bubbles out of you like sheer goodness personified. And you're with him. You love him.

Steve doesn't get it but hey, he's not going to complain.

So, something has to be wrong. "It's me!" he calls into the apartment. "Steve," he tacks on a bit lamely, hoping it'll make you laugh.

"On the couch," you call back. You don't sound sick or anything so that's not it. He pops into the kitchen to set down your dinner before shucking off his jacket and padding to the living room. When he spots you something in his chest loosens. God, he's so gone for you.

"Hey," he says lightly.

You look up at him from your book with a small smile but it's dimmer than he expects. "Hi, Steve," you say. You're pressed against the arm of the sofa with your legs stretched out, a book in your lap. You reach for him with one hand over the back of the couch. "Did you bring dinner?"

"Sure did," he says. He twines his fingers with yours and leans over to press his lips to your forehead. You sigh. "Nah, screw it," he says. "I'm coming over."

You know what he's going to do. "Be careful --" you try to say but he's already hoisting himself over and onto the couch. You pull your legs to your chest just in time as he bounces on the cushions a little bit.

Steve likes to be close to you. Everyone gives him shit for it when you're out, how he's always on you so much. Arm around your shoulder, thigh pressed to yours at the table. Hand in your pocket or holding yours. You've told him you like it, too, that it's grounding, so that's what he's aiming for. You shove your socked toes under his thigh and he wraps a hand around your ankle.

Time to see what the hell is going on with you. "So," he says. "Who do I need to beat up?"

You look moderately amused. "What do you mean by that, Steve?"

He reaches for you with his free hand. You've got a crease between your brows and he smooths it with his thumb. "You seem...down."

You hug yourself with your arms and sink deeper into the couch and lose his gaze. "Do I?" you say softly. "Sorry."

"Woah," Steve rushes to say. "Woah, no, hey, don't apologize. I just want to see what's wrong."

You say no more. His thumb strokes your ankle lightly and he wonders what the hell he's going to do to make you feel better. He's not very good at this part. You're always the one to bring him out of bad moods, to remind him of all the good stuff he's got going on. He can do this for you.

Steve gently pulls the book from your lap, folding the corner of the page before he puts it on the table.

"I was reading that," you say lightly.

"Yeah, well," he says. "You know I need attention to survive." You huff a laugh. Okay, progress.

Steve reaches for your face again. He lets go of your ankle this time so he can cup your cheek, your knees pressing into his chest a little. It's not a great angle but he can work with it.

"Baby," he says. It's your favorite thing he calls you other than your name since he saves it for moments like this -- when it's just the two of you. "Can you tell me what's wrong? So I can help?"

Your eyes shut and you lean into his palm. You take a deep breath and it shudders a little in your chest.

"I don't know, Steve," you whisper. "I know I'm usually so -- so -- happy, but I just got kind of sad this afternoon." You pull the words from yourself like a confession and Steve hates it. He hates how you sound disappointed in yourself.

"That's okay," he says. "Christ, that's more than okay. You can feel however you want. I mean, come on, you know I'm grumpy basically all the time." He hopes yet again it will make you laugh but he fails miserably as you sniffle. "Okay, come here."

You pull your feet from under his thigh and he hauls your legs over his lap so he can give you a real hug. He can feel your nose in his neck as you inhale deeply. He rubs his palm up and down your spine. He's had bad days, too. Hell, he has lots of them. It just happens, he just never realized it could happen to you, too.

"So, and correct me if I'm wrong here because you know me, but what I'm hearing is you just feel like shit and there's not much more to it."

You nod into his embrace. "That's about right."

"What can I do ?" You pull back at his question and give him a real smile, brighter than anything in the room.

"Just this," you say. "I'm sure it'll go away." Your fingers trace the line of his nose, his chin.

"It's okay if it doesn't," Steve reminds you. You tell him the same thing all the time. "Seriously. I know we have this whole dynamic or whatever but you can feel like shit forever, if you want. I hope you don't, obviously, but I'll take care of you if --"

You press your fingers over his mouth. "It's okay, Steve," you say. "I'll be fine. But I know you would."

Your own lips replace your fingers and you kiss him sweetly. He isn't ashamed to say he melts into it a little. He wanted to kiss you the second he walked in the door.

He's about to turn this into something a little less sweet when your stomach grumbles between you and you both pull back with a laugh. "Okay," he says. "Well, that I can fix."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction

[imtrashraccoon]

Gah! You guys were so awesome on my previous two posts. It was a huge surprise to wake up to this morning! So here is the next one, enjoy!

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day

Day 3: Scarfs

Frisk seemed to really like Doomfanger. As the days went by, you often woke up to find the cat had somehow squished herself between you and Frisk on the couch. Her purring was what woke you up every time as a result of Frisk just drenching her with attention. It was a good thing you weren't allergic to cats but getting all of her fur off your clothes was nigh impossible.

Today had been no different and after breakfast, Frisk had gone hunting for her again. They'd found a piece of string somewhere and got her to chase it across the living room. You couldn't help but chuckle watching their combined antics. Deciding to leave them alone for a bit, you wandered into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Papyrus was washing up the breakfast dishes and by the look of his uniform, he was probably heading out on patrol as soon as he was done. Rather than continue on your initial quest, you hesitated for a moment in the entryway of the kitchen, silently watching him work.

You had slightly mixed feelings about him, well, you felt that way about both brothers actually. While neither brother had been openly hostile towards you or Frisk, they had been rather passive or cold at best. This was pretty normal though, considering how rocky your first meeting had gone and how different their personalities were from your own.

Yet, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something between you and Papyrus. While it was hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling since he didn't exactly have conventional facial expressions like humans did, he had been much kinder than you expected. He checked to make sure both you and Frisk were doing alright, as well as acting like a good host, making you feel welcome in his home, even if he was still a bit distant.

Papyrus must've sensed you watching him because he suddenly turned halfway around and spotted you. "Is Everything Alright?" he asked quietly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment and glanced away. "Yeah, we're alright. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at you like that..." You rubbed the back of your neck and chewed your lower lip slightly.

"Apology Accepted." Papyrus returned to his current task, apparently unbothered.

You entered the kitchen and got a glass out of the cupboard. Quickly filling it from the tap, you leaned up against the counter and sipped at it.

"I do really like your uniform by the way. It legitimately looks really cool on you, especially your scarf," you commented, focusing on the remaining water in your glass while you spoke.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought Papyrus smiled slightly at that. He didn't say anything for a moment, but you hadn't really been looking for a conversation and had just wanted to clear the air.

"I Made It Myself," he finally said as he finished washing the last pan.

"Really? That's pretty impressive," you responded and glanced over at him again.

Papyrus dried his hands and pulled his long gloves back on. "Well, Mostly By Myself. I Bought The Materials And Then Put It All Together."

"Can I touch it?"

Papyrus studied you before nodding. "Go For It."

Setting your glass on the counter, you moved closer to him and lightly ran your fingers over the tattered edges of the end of his scarf. It was way softer than you'd expected, almost like cotton, but thicker than any similar garments you'd felt before.

"It's sort of like the texture of cotton, but not? What's it made from?" you asked curiously.

Papyrus tilted his skull thoughtfully. "I Am Not Familiar With Cotton, Since We Do Not Get A Lot Of Human Clothing Down Here. We Make Our Own Textiles From Various Materials Like Plant Fibers, Fur, Or Hair. There Is Also Spider Silk, Although It Is Rather Pricey So Most Are Not Able To Afford It."

He chuckled and added, "However, I Am Not Most People And As You Can See, I Spared No Expense. Besides The Obvious Softness, Cloth Made From Spider Silk Is Much More Durable Than Other Materials."

Your eyes widened with surprise and you examined his scarf slightly closer. "No way... That's so cool! I would love to have something made from spider silk, but it just isn't feasible on the surface."

Papyrus smiled at your enthusiasm. "I Imagine It Is Not, Considering There Are Only A Few Spiders That Supply Silk For The Entire Underground."

He left for work not long after the conversation ended, although the it seemed to have put him in a good mood which made you happy. You were genuinely impressed that spider silk could be that soft and a small part of you was really tempted to "temporarily borrow" his scarf at some point to try it out for yourself.

(Edit: Second last one I swear! @scrambledmeggys )

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #reader #named oc #thwbd #the hand we've been dealt #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

[thewalkingthread]

"I've been thinking" - D.D.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader

summary: After witnessing how good Daryl takes care of Judith and RJ, you think it's about time y'all have one of your own.

warning: fluff

a/n: I love soft Daryl.

You and Daryl had been through more than your fair share of hardships, having faced the trials of the apocalypse together. Your bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, after the war in Commonwealth settled, you and your community found a place to call home. Despite the chaos of the world outside, you had finally had a semblance of peace and security among friends, new and old. Hell- you guys even had a dog now.

It was sunny today, Judith and RJ ran around on the street with some of the other kids. They screamed and hollered as they played tag, a heart melting smile spread across their faces. Just kids being kids.

You and Daryl sat on the front porch of your house with Dog. Daryl's crossbow rested against the wall as he sharpened the points of his arrows. You watched the kids, you had a smile that mirrored their contagious ones.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice soft, he glanced at you briefly before he continued to work on his arrows.

You nod your head, your eyes still fixated on the kids. "I've been thinking,"

"That can't be good," Daryl scoffed, teasingly. You roll your eyes, reaching over and bumping his shoulder with your fist. "Bout wha?" He asks.

You shrug your shoulders, glancing down at the glass of water in your hands. "The future." You said simply.

Daryl looked up, curiosity evident in his stormy blue eyes. "The future, huh? What's on your mind?" He placed the arrow on the table, giving you his undivided attention.

"Well," You began, a faint blush coloring their cheeks, "I've been thinking about this for a while, but it never seemed like the right time. I mean these past few years have been so... crazy." You wince.

"But now, everything feels right. We're safe. Here, in commonwealth. The kids are safe here, we've got something good going. Something real." You hated saying it, knowing you felt the exact same way with the prison, with Alexandria. I don't think anywhere in this world would ever be safe, but here felt like it.

"We've been dealt some shitty cards. With Rick and Michonne gone, we've basically been given all their responsibility. I know we have to lead these people. I know we have to keep Jude and RJ safe. But I can't help but notice how great you are with Judith and RJ. You're a natural, Daryl. We take care of them like they're our own and-" Your voice trails off, losing the confidence to finish.

"Spit it out, woman." He grunts, staring into your eyes knowingly.

"I want to expand our family... Have one of our own?" You raise an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind a little Dixon running around."

Daryl paused, his hands grasping yours. He looked at you with the softest eyes, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. "You serious?"

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yeah, Daryl. I am. I think we're ready. I mean you're obviously going to be one hell of a dad."

Daryl's rough exterior couldn't hide the softness that your words had brought out in him. He scooted closer to you, holding both of your hands tightly in his. "You really think that?"

You smiled, your love for Daryl shining in your eyes. You've been with Daryl from the beginning. Him and Merle found you alone in a convenient store the day everything went to shit. After months of pining over each other you finally bit the bullet at the prison and made it official. Though the two of you been through hell the past 10 years you're here, together.

"Absolutely. I've seen the way you protect and care for those kids, the way you take care of me. It makes my heart ache with how much I love you. We're building something here. I want to start a family with you."

Daryl leaned in, capturing your lips with a tender kiss. It felt just like it did the first time all those years ago. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's do it. We'll make it work, no matter what. Us against the world. The way it's always been."

His arms wrapped around your body and pulled your close to him.

"Are you two okay?" Judith's voice caused the two of you to pull away from each other. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously at you two. You and Daryl both burst into a fit of chuckles.

"How would you feel helping Auntie Y/N out with a baby?" Daryl's voice was scuffed. Judith's eyes just about popped out as she jumped into y'alls lap.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered. "About time!" She laughed. Dog barked, oblivious to what was happening but happy to see everyone happy.

You and Daryl exchanged amused glances. Deep down inside you both knew you'd be okay. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead one shot #the walking dead fic #twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut

[kennarose1108]

My World (Negan Smith x Reader !DAUGHTER OF RICK!)

*SO I MADE THIS FOREVER AGO AND I WANTED TO FINISH IT AND UPLOAD IT... I HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY, PART 2 IS IN A LINK AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS STORY*

You had been with Negan and his group for the last ten months and you knew Negan wasn't the cleanest man on earth. You knew he was doing things... Horrific things to people but you try to turn a blind eye to it. Negan was the best thing that had happened to you since the apocalypse happened. You were alone up until Negan found you on the verge of starving to death.

And over the months your and Negan's relationship had blossomed into something unexpected. He was a lot older than you. You were twenty-six years old and Negan was forty-five... I mean hell he was older than your father would be... Your father...

You were in college when the apocalypse broke out and you prayed your family was okay. After a while, you finally made it back to your family's home to find it completely ransacked and everybody was missing. You went to the hospital where you heard your father was staying after his accident but you didn't even attempt to go inside as it was completely guarded by the dead.

But everything seemed to be okay now... You stayed out of Negan's business as much as you could but today was different. "I need you to go," Negan says. "Why? You have Simon and all your men why do you need me?" You ask while crossing your arms over your chest.

"We made a deal with these people but they're on the more dangerous side than most people we've dealt with. We need everybody." He explains and you sigh deeply. "I don't want to be involved with your 'business deals' Negan. You know how I feel about it." You say with a shrug. "And I don't believe these people willingly made a deal with you either." You say while raising your eyebrows and he chuckles slightly. "Alright, you got me there." He says while standing up from his seat. "These people killed a whole outpost of men for their supplies so we gave them an option of... We raid their shit and we let them live." He shrugs. "No harm, no foul." He says while grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. "I just want everybody there in case shit hits the fan. We need to defend ourselves." Negan explains.

"Mhm... What's the actual reason you want me to go? Because we both know I'm only good at killing the dead ones... Not the live ones." You say while squinting your eyes at him. He stares at you for a moment before sighing deeply with a smirk. "You see right through me every time.." He chuckles. "...You're going to be here all by yourself. I don't want you to be alone if something happens here. At least I know if you came with me I can protect you." He says while leaning his forehead against yours.

You clenched your jaw and slightly glared at him before groaning out a 'fine'. He smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Let's get going then."

When you made it out to the trucks Negan ordered you to stay inside of the car until the gates were open. When you made it to the place called Alexandria you sat in the truck with one of Negan's men. You weren't paying attention entirely until the man dropped a heavy gun in your lap. You had no idea how to use it so it was clear it was given to you for threatening purposes. "It's safe now." The man says. You nodded and took a step out of the truck, the man following your steps on the other side.

You were looking down at the ground as you took a few steps. You finally looked up and looked at the people around the gate. There was a woman who looked hardcore and angry and a man who looked confused and kinda wimpy... Then your eyes landed on another man. Your eyes widened as your brain processed what you were seeing, hoping it wasn't another hallucination that you saw so much when you were dehydrated.

But you weren't dehydrated and this wasn't a hallucination. Your lips parted as a soft gasp escaped your lips. The gun you were holding onto fell from your hands and that's when you finally got the man's attention. Your body shook as he gave you a look of confusion into a look of disbelief, the same look you gave him. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as your body shook from the feeling of adrenalin and pure shock coursing through your veins.

Negan looked at you and then at him, confused about what was going on, and that's when you let out a shaky breath, "Dad?" You mumble. "Oh my god.." He whispered. You let out a shaky chuckle as tears finally fell from your eyes. "DAD!" You yelled as you ran full force towards him. Your arms swung open and wrapped around his neck as his arms slung tightly around your body. Your legs shook as you were barely able to keep yourself upright... If it wasn't for his tight grip on you, you would've fallen to the floor. You cried into his shoulder and held onto him tightly before pulling away. "I thought you were dead." You managed to choke out.

Negan stared at you both in disbelief and horror. He also felt stupid for not putting two and two together since you both had the same last name. "Is Carl...?" He nodded. "He's alive." You sigh in relief as a smile appears on your face. "And mom?" You ask. He just stares at you. Your smile slowly fades as you cover your mouth with your hand in disbelief. You let out a shaky 'oh' as you pulled away.

Your father's eyes flicked from you to Negan before looking back at you. "You're with him?" He asks. You nod your head as you wipe a tear that fell from your eyes. "How 'bout you go around Alexandria and look for your brother? Me and your dad have some things to discuss." Negan says while getting behind you and grabbing your shoulders and giving Rick a teasing smile. "Yeah... Yeah, that's a good idea." Rick says while glaring at Negan. You walked away from Negan's grip and you walked around the streets, getting the occasional glare from some of the people that live in Alexandria which made you frown.

But as you walked your eyes fell on a boy walking down the steps from his porch. You squinted your eyes and tried to make out the face of the person. It was hard to tell at first since he had a patch over his eye but you’d recognized that face anywhere.

You smiled and yelled out his name. He looked around for a moment before turning in your direction, his eyes falling onto yours. You smiled as his face turned from confusion to disbelief. With adrenaline coursing through your veins you ran towards him full force. He did the same and you both met in between and practically collapsed into each other. You both kept each other on your feet as you hugged each other tightly. After a minute you pulled away and cupped his face, tears going down both of your faces. “You’ve grown so much.” You chuckle. “I thought you were dead,” Carl says with a slight gasp. “Can’t get rid of me that easily little brother.” You say with a chuckle. You look at the patch on his eye and you slightly frown. “What happened?” You ask your thumb lightly brushing against the edge of it.

“I was shot,” Carl explains. Your eyes widen and you laugh. “You were shot in the face and you survived?! Holy shit I wish Dad informed me how much of a badass you were before I found you.” He chuckles. His eyes then glance to the ground and his smile disappears, he seems to be lost in thought. His eyes flicked back up to you and he sighed. “I have to show you something,” Carl says while backing off and walking back towards the house he came out of.

You follow him into the house and up the stairs. Carl stops in front of a door that was off to the side and he slowly opens it. Your eyes travel to the inside of the room until you see a little girl in a crib. You take a few steps inside and slightly gasp. “Who’s this?” You ask while walking towards her. “That’s Judith. Our sister.” Your head snapped towards him and your eyes widen. “Is that how mom…” He didn’t say anything which was an answer in itself. You nodded and looked back at the little girl. You chuckle and lifted her out of the crib and held her against your body. “Oh my… You are gorgeous.” You say while admiring her little face. But the moment was ruined by the sound of doors slamming open and people talking loudly downstairs. “Hide her.” Carl orders. You quickly put Judith down and left the room with Carl, shutting the door right on time as Simon came running up the steps.

He eyed you and Carl and you both kept your composure. “Everything good up here?” He asks. “Yes. Everything’s fine.” You say with a slight smile. He glanced at the door next to you both and gave you another weird look. “What’s in there?” Simon asks while nodding to the door. “Nothing. The room is empty. Carl was giving me a tour of his home and he offered to let me stay in this room when they get it furnished.” You say with a stern tone of voice.

“Hm... You should talk to Negan about that.” You wanted to argue back and say you were a grown woman and didn’t need his permission but you decided it would be best to keep your mouth shut in this situation. “Come on Carl. Let’s go downstairs.” You say while putting your arm around Carl’s shoulders and pulling him forward, not keeping your eyes off Simon until you went past him. When you made it downstairs Carl was staring in horror at the people in his home taking pretty much everything. “They’re taking all of our medicine,” Carl says. “We hid them here because they said they’d only take half,” Carl says while pulling away from you. “Carl-“ “No!” Carl yelled while grabbing a gun and going after them. “Carl DON’T-!” But it was too late.

A gunshot rang through the air causing you to jump. You quickly ran into the room and luckily everyone was okay, but Carl had a gun to one of Negan’s men. “Put them back, or the next one goes in you.” Carl threatens. “Kid… What do you think happens next?” The man laughed. “Carl.” You managed to get yourself in between the gun and the man and you were trying to calm him down. “Get out of the way.” “Carl don’t.” You warned. “Move.” “If you don’t put the gun down the punishment will be-“ You stopped yourself as you saw your dad running into the room, you knew Negan wasn’t too far behind so you kept your mouth shut.

Your father tried talking the same sense to Carl as Negan walked in. His eyes darted between the gun and you and he knew he had to intervene. Negan walked over to you both and stood next to you and got into Carl's line of sight. Negan chuckles. "Really kid?" He says with a smirk.

"You should go... Before you find out how dangerous we all are." Carl warns. You swallowed the lump in your throat and gave him a pleading look. "Well pardon me, young man, excuse the shit out of my goddamn French but... Did you just threaten me?" Negan asks. "Look I get threatening Davie here... But I can't have it, not him, not me-" "Carl just put it down-" "Don't be rude Rick we are having a conversation here." Your father and Negan argue back and forth. You continue to stare at Carl with pleading eyes as you knew if Carl pushed his limits or broke a rule no amount of begging would stop Negan... Not even for you. "Now boy... Where were we?" He asks.

"Oh yeah! Your giant man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen I like you... I don't want to go hard proving a point here, especially in front of the lady here, and you don't want that. I said half your shit and half is what I say it is." Negan says in more of a more serious tone of voice. "I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious... Again?" Negan warns.

Carl stares at him then looks at you. You shook your head slightly and he sighed deeply. He moved his hand so the handle of the gun was facing you. Your trembling hands slowly grabbed the gun from his hands and held it to your side.

Negan turned to your father and started ranting to him and you grabbed Carl's shoulders. "What the hell is wrong with you?" You whisper to him. "They were taking our stuff," Carl argued. "You can always get that shit back! He'll kill you or someone else here and you can't get back." You hissed at him. "And you.." Negan turned to you both. You turned your head to him and saw him staring at you. He lifted his hand and wiggled his pointer and middle finger towards you telling you to give him the gun. You handed him the gun and he put it in his pocket.

"Rick go and get that stuff together for me will ya? And you... Come with me." He says while not moving his gaze from yours. You nodded and followed him out of the home. You followed him down the street and in between some houses. He then suddenly spun around and grabbed your arms softly. "I don't want you doing that shit again," Negan says sternly. "I knew he wasn't going to shoot me." You argued. Negan shook his head and sighed deeply. "I do not care. There is no damn reason for you to EVER stand in front of a gun. Ever." He says with a shake of his head. "Scared the hell out of me." He says while placing a kiss on your temple.

"I'm sorry.." You say with a frown. "Don't be sorry. I know you were trying to de-escalate the situation and I respect that... I just don't want you to get hurt." He says while cupping your face with his hands. "He's my brother. He wouldn't have hurt me." "I can't take that chance." He shakes his head. "I don't care if there's a 99% chance or a 0.01% chance. It's not an option." He says. “Understand?” He asks. You nodded and he smiled.

He kissed you on the cheek and pulled you in for a hug. You both stayed like that for a moment before Negan pulled away, giving you a tight squeeze before letting you move away from him. “Let’s go darlin’,” Negan says while lightly placing his hand on your lower back and leading you along.

You walked with Negan until you met up with your father and some of Negan’s men in front of a small bunker. The door to the bunker slowly opens to show a woman. “I… Figured you were coming.” She says nervously. “Show him where the guns are, Olivia.” Your father says. She nodded and you all walked inside. “You run the show in here?” Negan asks. “I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns,” She explains. “Good. Smart. Don’t let me stop you. Arat, boys... Show ‘em the goods.” He smirks as everyone walks off. “Wait, wait, wait.” Negan stops your father.

“While they’re at it, I just want to point out to you that I’m not taking a scrap of your food. Slim pickin’s in here.” Negan says while pointing out the little to no food on the shelves. “And I can’t be the only one to notice that you got a fuckin’ fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations can I?” Negan says and you turn to him, “Negan.” You smack his arm and he puts his hands up. “Am I wrong?” He asks. “Yes. Don’t be an asshole.” You roll your eyes. He chuckles and slightly leans into Rick, “She keeps me on my toes.” Rick glares at him and he slightly leans back.

Negan looks at Rick, then at you, then at Rick again. “Y’know I just realized… We’re family now aren’t we?” You closed your eyes and cringed. “I mean… Should I call you dad or something?” Negan asks while slowly dragging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close to his side.

Rick’s eyes flicked over to you and you swallowed another ball in your throat and you let out a deep sigh. “Right?” Negan asks. “Stop.” You whisper to him while giving him a pleading look. He wanted to keep going just to poke the bear some more but he didn’t want to continue if you were uncomfortable. He cared more for your feelings than his ego. “…Either way, you starve to death, I don’t get shit, so for now, you get to keep all the food. How ‘bout that?” Negan says, still keeping his arm around your shoulders.

Negan and Rick stare at each other for a few moments. A very awkward few moments. “What do you want me to say?” “I don’t know, Rick. How about a thank you.” Negan says while moving away from you and getting into your father’s face. “You think that might be in order? Or is that too much to ask?!” Negan yells. “Jesus stop!” You grab Negan’s arm and push him away from your father.

“Haven’t you done enough?” “All I’m asking for is a thank you.” You scoff. “I think we both know they have nothing to be thanking you for.” You shake your head at him before walking out of the bunker and down the streets of Alexandria. You stopped in front of Rick and Carl’s home and you sat on the steps, rethinking everything.

You placed your elbow on your knee and rested your forehead in your hand. You sat like that for a while before a familiar figure walked into your view. They stood there for a moment before slowly sitting next to you on the steps. “You angry with me?” He asks. You sigh and close your eyes. “What do you think?” You say with an annoyed tone of voice. “Why?” You turn to glare at him. “Why? Are you kidding me?” You say. “Is it because of Rick?” Negan asks. “Jesus no!” You yell. “…Well it doesn’t help.” You say while looking forward. “You know I don’t like being a part of this shit. I don’t like seeing this side of you... Especially since I know you did something bad to these people.” You say with your voice slightly cracking as tears filled in your eyes. You shake your head, not wanting to ask this question but you feel you have no choice.

“What did you do? I’m going to hear it from somebody so it might as well be from you.” He stares at you, he didn’t want you to find out. “I killed two of their people in front of them. One of them had a wife and she was sick. She witnessed it all… She didn’t make it.” Your mouth flew agape and your body tensed.

“Oh my god… And you expect a ‘thank you’ from these people!?” You stand on your feet and glare at him. “You say people are a resource and need to be protected but it’s all a lie!” You shout. “It’s not a lie.” He stands up to meet your level but instead, he just towers over you, making you feel inferior to him.

“People are a resource and need to be protected but rules need to be set and if they are broken there are punishments.” He argues. “And killing people in the answer?” You scoff. “You’re torturing these poor people and for what? Surviving?” “Killing off my men. That’s what.” He hisses while stepping forward and getting in your face. “Not like your men didn’t deserve it anyways. Most of them are criminals, rapists, or killers. But I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree does it?” You say while slowly looking at him up and down. Negan was seething, nobody spoke to him like this and he was getting pissed. “Watch your mouth.” “Or what? You’ll kill me?” You chuckled. “You don’t got the balls.” You hissed. It took all his might to not snap and lash out at you but he realized that it wouldn’t fix anything and you had every right to be angry.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t be any less angry with your words. “I have done everything for you. I have fought for you, I have killed for you, I put food in your belly and a roof over your head. I deserve goddamn respect.” He said in a low and threatening tone of voice. You shake your head. “I never asked you to save me.” You say, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you there to die?” “You should’ve. It would’ve been easier for the both of us.” You snapped back. Negan leans back and stares at you in disbelief.

You didn’t mean what you said, you were thankful Negan saved your life. You remember the day he found you. You were in a gas station and you had been sitting there for about a day or two just waiting to die. Your face was pale and you were practically skin and bones. You were sitting in the backroom in the dark when you heard a roar of an engine and footsteps entering the building. You didn’t have the energy to get up and find them and your throat was too dry to call out for help, so you sat there until the door opened and the light of a flashlight crawled up your body and landed on your face. You cringed and looked away from the light. The person who was shining a light called a name and another pair of footsteps entered the room. That was when the person shining the light lowered it and you made eye contact with the man who walked in the room. “Holy shit... Are you alive?” He chuckled, getting closer to you.

His smile disappeared when he saw how sick you looked. He walked over to you and knelt at your level. “I’m Negan.” He says. You gave him a slightly confused look and Negan sighs. “Simon. Go get some water.” He orders while still staring down at you.

Simon quickly came back into the room with a water bottle and handed him the bottle. He opened it and he snaked his hand behind your neck and lifted you. You slightly groan as he pulls your head forward in front of the bottle. Your lips touched the bottle and slowly gulped down the water. If you weren’t so dehydrated there was a good chance you would’ve cried.

When you needed a break you moved your head back and leaned back against the wall. “Y/N.” You mumbled. “What?” Negan asks as you barely let out a whisper. “…My name is Y/N Grimes.” You say while shifting around. “How long have you been here?” Negan asks. “A couple of days…” You say before letting out a hoarse cough. Negan lifts the bottle back to your lips and you take a few more gulps. “Is there anyone else around here?” He asks. You shake your head, “No. I’ve been alone since the beginning of the apocalypse.” You explain. His eyes widen and he scoffs with a smirk. “No shit? Wow. Good for you for lasting so long.” He says with a wide smile.

“Yeah… It gets lonely though.” You say while lifting the corner of your lips to smile slightly. Negan stared at you for another minute before mumbling an ‘alright’ and closing the water bottle and handing it back to Simon. He stands up slightly and begins to put his hands under your knees and behind your back. “What… What are you doing?” You ask. “I’m going to take you back to my camp. We have a doctor and food and water..” He explains. “…Why? You don’t know me.” You ask. “People are a resource. They need to be protected… And you won't survive much longer if I leave you here.” He explains. You nodded and he continued to pick you up.

You groaned as your body ached. Your muscles were so tense from sitting there for so long that just a slight movement caused your whole body to ache in pain. “We’ll get you patched up... It’ll be okay.”

And here you are… Many months later arguing with the man who saved your life. He stared down at you and he clenched his jaw. You could see on his face he wasn’t angry anymore, he was hurt. You didn’t expect it to hurt him in all honesty because Negan has been told a lot worse than what you said. But it did hurt him... And he didn’t know what to do about it. He sighed and looked around for a moment. “Head over to the truck.. We’re going to be leaving in a few minutes.” Was the only thing he managed to get out. Without looking at you he walks down the steps of the porch and down the street.

You stifled a sob and wiped the tears that had fallen down your face. After you pulled yourself together you walked over to the truck and saw David in the face of a young girl. “Say please again, little girl.” He chuckles. The girl lets out a ‘please’ and he smirks. “Yeah. One more time.” He says while running his finger down her cheek.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yell out as you storm over to him. His head shoots towards you and you shove him away from the girl. “Who do you think you are?” David asks as he gets in your face. “Someone who will gladly put some fucker out of their misery.” You snapped back. “Now piss off.” You hissed. He glared at you and tried to walk away but you stopped him. You put our hand out, telling him to give you the item the girl wanted. He grumbled something under his breath and shoved the item in your hand. David walked away and you turned to the girl. “I’m sorry that happened…” You whisper as you handed her back the balloons. You squeezed her shoulder before walking off and following the truck.

“Get in the truck Y/N. Me and daddy dearest here gotta talk.” Negan says without looking at you. You glared at him and you were about to oblige his orders and get in the truck but you stopped yourself. You turned on your heel and walked over to your father and swung your arms over his shoulders. You both hugged each other tightly before Carl found his way under your arm and hugged you and your father as well.

When you finally pulled away you rested one hand on your father’s shoulder and the other on the side of Carl’s face. You gave them a soft smile as tears filled in all of your eyes. “I’ll be back. I promise.” You say in a low tone of voice as you run your thumb over Carl’s cheek to wipe away the tear that fell from his eye.

You give them another small smile before turning and walking away. Negan watched you closely as you walked past him, wiping your tears in the process. You sat in the van and stared down at the ground, trying not to cry anymore in the process. During the minutes of you sitting there, you looked over and saw Negan taunting your father. You balled your fists up and sighed in annoyance. You wanted to get out of the car and yell at Negan but you didn’t have the energy. You heard Negan chuckle as finally peeled himself away from your father and he got in the van next to you, Lucille in his hands. You looked down at your hands and furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t want to even look at Negan... But you knew he was looking at you.

He made occasional glances at you in an obvious manner. He wanted your attention and in all honesty, he wanted you to feel slightly bad for what you said to him. But you never looked at him. Not even when you made it to the sanctuary and walked past him to get inside.

You ignored everybody and headed to your shared bedroom. When you finally made it to the bedroom that’s when you realized that the sun was setting and you sighed in relief. You were exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to fall into your bed and sleep the day away. You sat on the edge of the bed and buried your face in your hands. You sat for a while until you heard your bedroom door opening and closing. You glance up and saw Negan leaning against the doorframe and staring at you.

You wipe the tears that had fallen from your eyes and look to the side. Negan stares at you for a few more seconds before sighing and lightly smiling to himself, clearly thinking of a memory.

“Y’know… I remember the first time I saw you.” He says. “You were so frail and sick looking.” He says while slowly walking towards you. “I was worried if I touched you, you would shatter like a piece of glass.” He continues walking towards you. You look up at up and look at him through your hair. “But I knew you were a fighter. And even if I had left you there you would’ve fought yourself back to survival.” He says while kneeling in front of you. “Who would’ve thought you would fight yourself into my heart.” He says with a soft smile and gently tucking your hair behind your ear.

You look down at him with tears in your eyes and a frown on your face. “There’s no way I could’ve left you there because..” He sighs before continuing. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.” He says while resting his hand against your cheek and wiping the tears that had fallen.

“Look… You and I are not easy people to deal with. And together it’s even more difficult... But I wouldn’t change a thing.” He says while shaking his head, a soft smile on his lips. A small cry came out of my mouth and I close my eyes, "I-I didn't mean what I said... I didn't... I'm glad you found me I...* You say, your words stuttering a bit. "I know... I know baby..." Negan whispered while moving his hand up to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"I just... I hate seeing this side of you, and knowing you're doing this to my family..." You say before taking a deep and shaky breath. "It hurts..." You mutter, just barely over a whisper. Negan frowns, "I know... But I have to be cruel to keep them in line." Negan says. You shake my head, "No... No, you don't." You say. Negan sighs, "Baby. Listen to me." Negan says while grabbing your cheeks between his hands, "I promise you... I won't hurt your family. I take my promises seriously and you know that." Negan says.

You nod and sniffle, "...Okay." I mumble. "Alright... Now come here...* Negan says while putting his arms out to you. You get off the bed and onto the floor in front of him and hug his torso tightly. He hugs you back tightly and lovingly. Negan would keep his promise... He wouldn't hurt your family, but everyone else in Alexandria was up for grabs... One thing Negan knew how to do...

Was how to manipulate.

PART 2

#negan #negan smith #negan fic #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #twd dead city #negan's thirst squad #maggie rhee #negan twd #dead city #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #rick grimes #daryl dixon #glenn rhee

[kurooo-is-here]

Can I request Kieran comforting the player/reader after they have a nightmare? (INDIGO DISK SPOILERS***: Specifically about what went down in Area Zero, maybe about how the blast almost hit Kieran and reader feeling like it would have been their fault if something happened to him bc they drove him to seek out Terapagos in the first place?)

Heheh, I love writing comfort stuff :)

I think Kieran would be super good at comforting you since he's dealt with such intense negative emotions himself. He empathizes a lot with your panic attack and does his best to make you feel safe... because he never had anyone comfort him through his panic attacks.

Warnings: Reader has a small panic attack.

Notes: I hope someone gets the reference I put at the end :D

Mild Spoilers for the Indigo Disk DLC ahead!

Kieran woke up to find you sobbing into their blankets. He's immediately alert- what happened? Did someone hurt you? Why were you crying?

You let out a whimper when you realize he's awake. "S-Sorry, Kieran... I-I had a n-nightmare." You said through shaky breaths. You were barely able to breathe, your hands and body shaking, you were gasping for air- you were a mess.

Kieran's eyes softened. He sat up and embraced you, letting his hand trail to your back. "I'm here, Y/N." He said softly. "You're okay, I promise."

You sobbed into his shoulder, letting out tears you had been trying to hold back before. Kieran was patient with you. He encouraged you to breathe steadily, and kissed your cheek to comfort you. It was like... he'd done this before himself.

As you slowly calmed down, he kept his arms around you, giving you a sense of safety and relief. He gently held your hand in his, and kissed your cheek once more.

There was a brief silence before you spoke. "...I had a nightmare that you died. When Terapagos blasted that attack at you... in my dream, I couldn't save you." You said quietly. "I... I watched you die."

Kieran frowned. "But you saved me, didn't you? You were incredible back there."

"B-but..." You trailed off, hiccuping as the tears came back. "It's my fault that you even pushed yourself so far. You wanted to defeat me, so you put yourself in danger to catch Terapagos-"

"It's not your fault, Y/N." His voice was gentle, but firm. "None of that was your fault."

"But-"

"Y/N, you're the light of my life." Kieran said. "You are not responsible for what I did."

He leaned in and kissed your lips, as if he wanted to prove what he said. "And that dream wasn't what really happened. You saved me, and I'm alive and I'm still here."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. "You're... you're right. I'm sorry. I just.. I panicked. It was so scary seeing you.. dead."

You held onto him tightly. "I don't wanna lose you. Not after everything we've been through."

Kieran smiled. "I don't wanna lose you either, Y/N."

As you laid down and drifted off to sleep, Kieran hummed a melody that felt oddly familiar. It was oddly sad, yet comforting. It reminded you of a Pokemon you saw in one of your dreams, where the world was sepia-toned and you could hear the Pokemon singing in the forest as leaves fluttered by.

His gentle hums and warm touch let you have a peaceful sleep that night.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon indigo disk #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader #thank you for the ask anon!! #does anyone get the reference at the end please tell me if you do #kuro writes

[dduane]

In the Young Wizards 'verse, how would the universe handle two wizard-potentials going for the same manual at the same time, like reaching for the same book at the library? Would it somehow magically duplicate itself? Would it avoid the question entirely by waiting to choose the potentials until later? Would either (or both) of them get a notification of the manual installing itself as an app on their phones, thus distracting them from grabbing the book? (So many options!)

The Young Wizards series is one of my all-time favorites, by the way. Thank you for putting it into the world ❤️❤️ I need to reread it again soon!

First of all: thanks for the nice words! Delighted that the books were there for you. 😊

As to your question: I'm not sure this is a problem that's likely to come up, for an array of reasons that have to do with the basic nature of YW-'verse wizardry.

Basically, though: every wizard (like every other human, and every other sentient being) occupies a unique temporospatial position that doesn't just involve where they are, and when they are, but who they are; as well as where they've been, and what they've experienced. Different people, born in different places and raised in different ways by other different people, are inevitably going to have different personalities and different worldviews... and therefore, also, different preferred ways to engage with wizardry.* The chances that a given instrumentality offered to a given person is going to be an exact or even near-exact duplicate of the one offered to another person are pretty small. I don't think we need to worry too much about the two-hands-reaching-for-the-same-Manual-at-the-same-time paradigm.

Bear in mind also that there are a lot of different ways to get at Speech-based wizardly info besides books. Offered instrumentalities can vary wildly due not just to cultural norms, but personal preferences. Someone who likes stories but doesn't care for reading physical books might have their Manual turn up as an (apparent) audiobook. (Or maybe a podcast: or a videoblog: who am I to judge?) After all, we've already had wizards who manage spells or otherwise engage with wizardry by listening to the Sea, acquiring the Speech through sentient laptops, hearing it as in-mind speech which they manage by (probably somewhat Speech-enhanced) memory; by direct communications with the Powers that Be via an (apparent) little magical light source they carry around with them, and numerous other methods. (And don't forget the slightly unusual instrumentality that turns up in the YW 30-Day OTP sequence, in which one new probationary wizard obtains his Manual access via what appears to be Tuxedo Mask's rose from Sailor Moon.) ...Additionally, I have a vague memory of one wizard carrying around a Manual access that seems to be the one and only Magic 8-Ball featuring answers that are not hazy. Don't ask me which book it's in, though. Might be Games Wizards Play, but that's a guess.

As for app installations—no reason that Manual access might not turn up as an app update. Also, in terms of dedicated devices, wizPads and wizPhones (formerly wizPods) have been around for a while now, and both have become canonical over time: Darryl McAllister's using one of the wizPhone-based Manual versions in A Wizard of Mars. (Though these may occasionally present problems for practitioners testing out a new paradigm.) As a wizard grows into their practice of the Art, it's not at all unusual to change instrumentalities as one finds something that works better for them than what the Powers sent them the first time out.

Anyway: hope this helps! 😀

*As for the probably inevitable question, "But what if they're twins?" To quote a well-known authority, "It's never twins." :) (And that said: starting with Wizards at War, we see that occasionally, it is twins... and I'm pretty sure they acquired their delivery instrumentalities separately, though I can't recall whether this gets dealt with in canon.)

#Young Wizards meta #wizard's Manual #issues