#and he's off his meds too. obviously

[papirouge]

Simon -Ghost- Riley...

"(...) Ghost’s real name is Simon Riley and he grew in Manchester, England and he grew up a really bad childhood. His brother was really mean to him and always would wear a skull mask at night to scare Simon. Simon’s father was really abusive towards Simon and often made him do really screwed up things. Apparently Ghost was a apprentice butcher at a grocery store but joined the military due to the 9/11 attacks. He eventually joined the SAS. However, when returning home a few years later, he found his brother and mother in really bad conditions. The brother took drugs and kept stealing from his mom to keep having the drugs. Simon didn’t return to the military until he had changed and helped his family get back on their feet. Simon got them back to good and his brother had a wife and kid. Now here’s the really messed up parts. Simon was tasked with taking down the Zaragoza Drug Cartel who was ran by Manuel Roba. He and his team were going to make a move on them until the team’s commanding officer, Vernon, betrayed and ratted out the team. Simon and his team were tortured in brainwashing facilities for months. Vernon couldn’t break Simon and ended up ordered to die by Roba. Simon was buried alive with Vernon and broke out with Vernon’s jawbone due to Vernon’s rotting corpse. Simon ended up crossing the border to Texas and got healed from injuries but suffered from temper-management issues which didn’t allow him to return back to active duty. He later met up with two of his former teammates, Sparks and Washington but he found out that they were both broken and brainwashed by Roba. He ended up trying to kill Sparks but Washington interfered. He returned to his home to find his mother and his brother and his family all dead. He killed Sparks and Washington and then went on his journey to find and kill Roba. He worked solo and killed Roba and his men and ended up being recruited by General Shepard to join Task Force 141."

— Youtube comment about Ghost origin story

[aprilblossomgirl]

-- winny's instagram post 22.08.2023.

[snarltoothed]

this would be so funny to send as a middle-aged wife whenever your good for nothing husband who fell either into addiction or abusiveness when he got laid off in 2008 starts acting up but you’re 55 looking 45 and he’s ambiguously in his 60s and unlike him you didn’t age out of your sense of humor and ability to socialize so he just has to humble himself and shut up

image found while on google images ©

[gemini-sensei]

Thinking about bimbo!Reader who is everyone's stress relief toy again. (Includes girlcock!Tory and girlcock!Sam)

Everyone at the dojo just uses her to blow off steam at one point or another. She's there for that reason alone because she's crap at karate. She doesn't mind though, she's helping her friends after all. So what if Tory is a little rough with her? She loves it! So what if her jaw is sore after Demetri accidentally gags her on his cock? She loves it! So what if her ass is raw after Miguel is done after she's already gone limp and tired? Still she loves it!

Eventually it evolves into everyone having fun with her because Reader knows how to have a good time. Sure, she's still hanging around for that stress relief, but she's also picked up on what everyone likes 😏 so she makes sure everyone is satisfied too. Sam comes to her often because she's "always tense" an excuse Reader catches onto knowing she just wants to get her dick wet. Robby enjoys the gentler side of things and is always in need of attention, fucking and cuddling afterwards always makes him happy. Hawk comes around all the time because he loves hitting it from behind or having sloppy make out sessions with Reader, when he gets to grope and squeeze all her pudgy curves.

But one day she doesn't come to the dojo. And the next day she isn't there either. And the next day she doesn't show up.

By then everyone is worried, so the gang of friends go to check on her. Only to find her apartment is kind of a mess, which is usually isn't. Reader does pretty well at keeping her place clean. She's the only one living there after all.

They find her in her bedroom, curled up with a bucket. She's obviously not feeling well and when they ask her what's up she tells them that she's sick, probably with a stomach bug or something. Thinking that, she doesn't want them around in case she gets them sick. However, Sam and Robby want to help her feel better so they decide to make her some soup. Miguel helps by tidying up her apartment and giving it a nice sweeping. Hawk doesn't care if he gets sick, so he's right there with her helping her get some fresh clothes on and getting her a new bucket to puke in.

However, Demetri and Tory aren't so sure that it's just a stomach bug. So they make up an excuse to go to the store, saying they're gonna go get some over the counter meds for Reader. They are going to the store but not for meds.

They come back with five pregnancy tests, thanks to Demetri and his constant worrying. He wants to make sure that it's 100% accurate.

Reader has no idea why they would bring her pregnancy tests. She's not so sure of they're thinking. She just shrugs it off but everyone is telling her to take them.

So she does.

And one comes back positive. So she takes another one.

And it's positive.

And so is the next one.

And the next one.

And the next one...

She can't deny it and she starts crying. She doesn't understand how this happened, she's been on the pill. In tears, she makes herself throw up again and Sam helps her get cleaned up. They all try to calm her down but it doesn't work.

She doesn't calm down until Hawk has her in a big hug on her bed, sitting against the headboard with her laying back against his chest. He's so affectionate toward her, so is Miguel and Sam, so they're all over her. Meanwhile, Tory, Robby and Demetri are kind of awkwardly standing aside unsure of what to do. The three of them are also the ones freaking out on the inside the most, but they're trying not to let it show in front of Reader.

She starts getting worried because the baby could literally be any of theirs. She has no way of knows. There have been days she's fucked two of them, so it's literally a toss up as to who the baby's other parent could be.

However, none of them care about that. They only vare about Reader and how she's feeling about all of this, so they try to calm her down and stop thinking about frivolous stuff like who's baby it is. That isn't something they can work out right now, so they're not even worried about it. She's their #1 priority now, after all she's done for them - beyond the sex, she's been their friend and confidant, their rock, their biggest supporter. It's time they take care of her.

Sam is cuddled up to Reader, her head resting on her thighs as she holds her. Miguel is on her other side, head beside her belly that isn't showing yet. It's still soft and chubby, perfect to cuddle up to. Hawk is still holding her, one hand on her belly while his head rests on her shoulder. The three of them ensure she knows she's okay and don't let her talk badly about herself for not knowing who the other parent is. Hawk keeps kissing her cheek or neck, enough to tickle and it makes her laugh. Sam and Miguel give words of encouragement. It's way more than friendly that's for sure.

Meanwhile, in the background, Demetri and Troy are being more logical about it. They're kind of already getting into the money and doctors suddenly of things. Demetri is just drawn to researching everything he needs to know for all of this while Tory has pretty much already been a parent to her younger brother, so doctors don't worry her. It's money that worries her. And Robby. Poor Robby. They're also trying to calm his nerves. He's so worried.

None of them know what they're going to do but they're certain they're gonna figure it out. After all, they all love Reader, so why wouldn't they?

[flyboy-trainor]

Larry doesn't eat! (At least TV show Larry doesn't) Tbh this is important to me. He says it at least twice in the show. Larry doesn't need to eat or drink and it just makes him cooking for the team so much more interesting to me. Because it's something he's doing purely for other people. And he's good at it! And it makes him happy even if there's a bit of angst with it too because he obviously loves food but can't enjoy it anymore.

It also makes him going to the bar in the first episode really interesting too. Because I don't think he can drink either. But he goes there anyway, that's where he wants to be, he sits there and orders a drink and he can't drink it but he can pretend. And it's also like. Food and drink are such important things for humans socially, a lot of the time. A lot of social bonding is centered around food. And him cooking is one way he can still participate in that even if he can't actually partake in the meal himself. And it just contributes to his isolation but also shows his desire to connect with people still. Like at the bar, too. He's doing it to mimic normalcy, to try to fit in even though he doesn't. In a way that shows he craves it but can't have it. Which is the case for like. Most kinds of intimacy tbh. He *can* have emotional intimacy except for the fact that he's traumatized and sucks at it. Physical intimacy is obviously, understandably difficult.

I wonder how Sheryl would feel about the fact that Larry is the Designated Housewife of Doom Manor because I doubt he did that stuff with her. Like maybe he'd wanted to (I think he always had that in him) but he just had Way Too Much pressure to be Masculine, gender roles had to have been really, really pressed on him from a young age considering everything. Which makes me emotional about Larry projecting onto Rita before he even knew her. Relating to Rita's characters and projecting onto the woman's role in movies. There's no way he'd be able to actually talk about that with people. Except maybe John, you know. I bet if people knew of his interest in Rita's movies they thought he was attracted to her, that would have to be the way he'd play it, I'm sure.

Doom Patrol fans when Larry said he doesn't eat.

[cameatslemons]

mouthwashing post. jimmy is a raging narcissist and im tired of people trying to give him benefit of the doubt. his inability to see two feet beyond what immediately concerns him dooms everyone on the tulpar, and even in the end, he only really cares about himself.

big list of all his narcisstic bullshit below bc im here to motherfucking prove it (mouthwashing spoilers of course)

most obviously: everything is a personal attack on him. EVERYTHING. you can see it most clearly at the birthday party; while everyone else is understandably freaking out about being laid off, jimmy starts telling curly off and insulting both him and everyone else at the table, as if being laid off is a personal attack on jimmy specifically. it doesn’t matter that anya has nothing to go back to, that swansea’s life is thrown away- jimmy is the ONLY victim here, apparently. curly is personally responsible for getting laid off, in his eyes.

i don’t actually know the words for this but the way he’s constantly going “i have to do EVERYTHING around here”- again, feeling like its a personal attack to be asked anything at all. anya asks him to take care of curly because her entire fucking life is falling apart, its her end of days, but somehow shes the villain for struggling.

also the general antagonization of anya. she’s extremely competent for the hand she was dealt! shes too poor to attend med school yet shes very knoqledgable in medication and wound care! and yeah no shit shes struggling now, someone she cared deeply about is suffering immensely and now the ship is being “run” by a man who assaulted her. no fucking shit shes breaking down. but jimmy makes it clear time and time again that this is somehow her fault, all this shit of “shouldn’t nurses EARN their titles?” while she’s having a mental breakdown.

similarly, swansea being villainized for holding the cryopod for daisuke and killing him. like, i get it, but jimmy’s whole thing of saying he can fix daisuke is… c’mon man. he’s a hero to himself, he “always” fixes things the same way he “fixed” the ship, and he will fix daisuke and claim heroism even though it’s very clear nothing else can be done for him.

“someday you’ll thank me” while forcing curly to eat his own leg. the incredible confidence that he is in the right even when literally torturing someone.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: the final scene with curly burning. jimmy doesn’t earnestly believe he has anything to be sorry for. even when apologizing to curly he says “we can BOTH be heroes!” despite everything, he still thinks he’s in the right. he STILL thinks he’s a hero, because he’s right, he’s ALWAYS right, surely. he can apologize and grovel all he wants but in the end he still thinks he’s the hero of this story; he doesn’t genuinely think he has anything to right, he’s only doing this to be freed of consequence. and/or believes a simple “sorry” is enough, that it can fix completely ruining the lives of four people with his own inferiority complex.

i do think the choice to put curly in the pod instead of himself is the only time he recognizes his own guilt, if any. maybe it’s realizing that he DOES need something more than a simple “sorry” to even begin to try to fix things, maybe it’s that he thinks this will cement him even further as a hero. even then, does this fix anything? all it’s doing is making curly suffer more. is this actually a good thing?

to him, he’s the hero here. he always is. crashing the ship is a heroic thing, putting all his crewmates through hell is a heroic thing. all because something nobody can control is somehow a personal attack on jimmy.

not to mention all the “hallucinations” he has- it’s what he thinks should happen, it’s what he wants to hear. curly still calling him a friend, the dead corpses of his crewmates praising him, even in the final cutscene with curly burning where he says “no, YOU take the pod”. none of it’s real. it’s just what jimmy thinks is “right”. despite everything, he thinks everyone should thank and praise him, because he can do no wrong.

conclusion: jimmy is a narcisstic piece of shit.

[ovulationation]

Rivalry

Pairing: frat!Bucky x sorority!reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been academic rivals since the start of college. How will he react when you celebrate your accomplishment at his frat’s party?

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (for the love of god just wear a condom), academic rivals, creampie, praise kink

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your breath hitches. He grins at you and lets out a chuckle.

“Fuck you, James.” You snarl.

“Would you, Doc?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you met James Barnes was move-in day to your Freshman dorm. He lived right next door to you, which means that you had to hear everything that happened. The parties when you were trying to study, the obnoxiously loud music during his morning showers, and the girls that he would bring home in the middle of the night.

Things got worse when you realized that you were both on the pre-med track.

The past three years have been filled with him basically 24/7. With both of you vying for the top of the class, the best teacher recommendations, and the best volunteering experiences to pile up your resumes.

Things got slightly better when you both moved out of the dorms your second year, but the competition returned quickly when you realized you now lived in fraternity and sorority houses directly across the street from each other.

By this year (your third year) you have become full blown academic rivals. Both of you fighting over the very limited summer spots to shadow some of the best doctors in the country at your college’s hospital.

Today, on the last day of finals, you had finally gotten the message that you got one of the spots. All of your work was paying off and you could finally relax before your intense summer started.

That’s how you ended up at the last party of the year. Your friends had dragged you out as a celebration, but they forgot to inform you that this year it was being hosted by none other than James Fucking Barnes’ fraternity. The fraternity that he was just elected the President of for the upcoming year.

Now you stared across the room at him as he lounged back on the couch pushed up against the wall. Something about just the sight of him made your stomach churn, it had since the moment you saw him, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what. His messy black stubble on his face, his shirt that obviously didn’t even fit right since the sleeves clung to his biceps, the way he spread his legs so casually, taking up more room than needed. That stupid smirk as he made eye contact with you across the room. You started towards him.

You wanted to slap that stupid look off of his stupid face.

You stopped in between his legs, glaring down at him. He cocked his head to the side as he looked up at you, that smirk still spread across his face.

“Congratulations, Doc.” His voice low and casual as he looks up at you with lidded eyes.

“Try not to sound too excited, James.” You roll your eyes.

“But I’m so excited, I get to see you every day this summer.” His eyes rake up your body, taking in your short skirt. You feel a shiver run over you as his eyes meet yours again.

“You got the other spot?” You scoff.

“Yep,” he grins up at you, leaning forward in his seat.

He reaches a hand out to rest against the side of your bare thigh, causing goosebumps to pop up along the flesh. Your knees feel weak.

“Maybe we should carpool?” His head tilts to the side as he looks at you under his lashes.

“I would rather walk barefoot on hot gravel,” you deadpan, despite the shudder that travels through your body as he starts to ghost his fingers over your skin.

You gesture towards the red cup in his other hand with your chin, “How many have you had, Bucky?”

His eyes light up at the nickname. “Just the one, gotta stay sharp.”

“The internship doesn’t start until next week.”

“Not talkin about the internship.”

Both of his hands slide to the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward and onto his lap. You let out a gasp, looking around at all of the people who are too drunk to pay any attention to the two of you.

His hands rest on top of your thighs, thumbs tracing lazy patterns on the skin.

“W-what are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“It’s too loud, I wanna be able to hear you better.” He leans back again, just staring at you. The start of a dull ache pulsing deep in your abdomen.

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your breath hitches. He grins at you and lets out a chuckle.

“Fuck you, James.” You snarl.

“Would you, Doc?” He smirks and the ache gets stronger.

A beat passes with you staring at him in surprise before he lunges at you. His lips crashing against yours. You pull back in shock, taking in his red cheeks and his pupils blown wide. Then, without even thinking, you crash back into him.

He kisses you hungrily, taking advantage of the first gasp that leaves you to slip his tongue between your lips and explore your mouth eagerly. You feel him grow hard beneath you and you gasp again. You push yourself down against him, feeling his bulge hitting right where you need it.

He groans into the kiss, his hands flying up to grab onto your hips to still your motion, causing you to whine. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, “My room?” He asks breathlessly.

“Please.”

You jump off of his lap and he tangles his fingers with yours, pulling you through the sea of people and up the stairs to his bedroom.

His room is much cleaner than you would have ever expected. No navy sheets, no empty liquor bottles on the shelves, he even had multiple pillows. His desk had off of his notebooks neatly stacked on top of it.

Bucky shut the door and locked it, turning back to look at you, his cheeks flushed.

You didn’t even have to say anything before he was on you again. Pulling you back to his lap on the bed. This time kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“Why?” You breathe out, trying to focus on anything besides his lips trailing down your neck.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Why what?”

“Why the sudden switch up?”

He stares at you with a bewildered look, “There wasn’t a switch up, I’ve always liked you.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, “But-“

You’re cut off by his lips reattaching to your skin, now nipping at a sensitive spot underneath your ear. You gasp.

“I thought you liked me too,” he mumbles against your skin. His hands grip your hips, using them to drag you against his clothed erection.

“But,” You’re interrupted by a moan escaping you as his zipper hits your clit through your panties. “You’ve always argued with me and competed against me in everything I did.” Your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I was flirting,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His hands push your skirt up to your waist, revealing your panties. His eyes never leave yours as he pushes them to the side and grazes his thumb over your clit.

“I probably shouldn’t have pushed your buttons as much as I did,” he says, his middle finger sliding down to your dripping core, teasing your entrance. “But you’re just so hot when you’re angry.”

You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he pushes his finger inside of you. His finger slowly working inside of you while his thumb rubbed lazy circles against your clit, his other hand still gripping your hip. He watched you like he was studying you, making sure he was hitting just the right spots. Trying to get you off like he was getting graded for it.

His other hand comes up and pulls your bottom lip out from between your teeth, “Wanna hear you, baby.”

You let out a whine as he pushes a second finger inside of you, curling them against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Bucky,” you whimper, feeling that cord inside of you wind tighter.

“I know, baby” He coos, his thumb speeding up its rhythm on your clit.

You clench around his fingers as you come undone, your forehead falling against his shoulder as you grind into his fingers.

Before you’ve completely recovered, you’re being laid onto the bed. Your back hitting the blankets while your legs are still twitching.

Bucky stands in front of you, pulling his shirt off, revealing his toned chest and arms. When could he possibly have the time to go to the gym?

You sit up quickly, reaching for his belt with shaky hands. He chuckles, looking down at you as you pull the front of his jeans open and push them down his legs. Now he’s just in his underwear, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hard cock strains against the fabric.

“You’re getting a little impatient” He smirks down at you.

You look up at him beneath your lashes, wanting to get that stupid smirk off of his face. You grab his waistband and pull it down, causing his cock to spring free.

He groans as you reach out to wrap your hand around his thick length. Your hand pumping him a few times, testing. His hand wraps around your wrist, stopping your movement. You look back into his eyes, now looking down at you like he could devour you whole.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” He growls.

You pull your shirt over your head and throw it to the floor, your nipples hardening as they hit the cool air. His breathing picks up as he takes in the sight, his eyes darting between each of your breasts.

You help him pull your skirt off, tearing your panties off with it. Now leaving you both bare. Your eyes raking over each other’s bodies.

He lowers himself to the bed and crawls his way up your body, stopping to plays stray kisses up from your navel, to each breast, and finally back to your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him against you.

His hands ghost over your hips to grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling them apart. He pulls back to lift onto his knees, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and tapping it against your clit.

You gasp, gripping his arms as he slides through your folds.

“Bucky, stop teasing,” You whine, clutching at the sheets in frustration.

“What do you need?” He smirks down at you with that stupid face.

“Need you, please.” You whimper when the tip of his cock hitches into your entrance.

He pushes into you with a low groan. Your slick walls squeeze him tight as he bottoms out inside you. He pants above you, his eyes going back and forth between your face and where you’re connected. His fingers slip down and tease along your folds, collecting your slick. They move up to your sensitive nub and coat it in your juices, rubbing tight circles.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, throwing your head back into the mattress.

“Nuh uh,” Bucky scolds, stopping completely.

You whine and look back to his face. His free hand moves to grip your chin, making sure you’re looking into his eyes before starting his slow, deep thrusts again.

“Want to see your face, pretty girl.”

You nod and fight to keep your eyes from rolling back when the tip of his cock hits that spot inside you.

“I can feel you squeezing,” he groans, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “You gonna cum for me?”

“So close, Bucky.” You whimper, feeling that cord deep inside you about to snap.

His thrusts get faster, hitting that spot relentlessly over and over again. Soon your vision goes blank, moaning loudly as you gush over his cock. He never wavers, still thrusting into you at the same rhythm even as you clamp down around him.

“That’s a good fucking girl.” He coos, angling himself down to capture your lips again.

You moan against his lips. He never gives you a chance to catch your breath after your orgasm, just keeps his unrelenting pace inside you.

His thrusts start to get sloppy as he groans into your mouth, “can I cum inside you?”

You moan at his desperate words, “yes, please Bucky.”

He thrusts a few more times before stilling deep inside you, spilling his cum against your cervix. The feeling of his hot seed spreading through you makes you whine. His face presses into your shoulder as he lazily thrusts into you, kissing a little trail up your neck.

After a few minutes of sloppy kisses and trying to catch your breath, Bucky slips out of you and rolls to lay beside you.

Your chest rises and falls quickly as you turn your head to face him. He’s already looking at you.

His stupid grin plastered back to his face as he leans in to give you a short but hungry kiss.

“This summer is gonna be fun, Doc.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swear to god writing this felt like pulling teeth for some reason. It def doesn’t feel as good as my last one, but I wanted to try writing again and I was OBSESSED with the academic rivals to lovers trope so here ya go lol

[alexsoenomel]

Being loved by Dean Winchester would include: (you being clueless edition)

Constantly staring at you when you are not looking.

Him being a little too overprotective at times, especially on hunts.

Making sure you are safe at all times.

Making you morning coffee when you're too cranky to get out of bed.

Listening to you talk about things you care about.

Showing you his collection of classic rock tapes and vinyl's.

Admiring your pretty face when you're sleeping.

Sam telling him to get it together and tell you how he truly feels.

"I ain't telling her shit."

"Dude you're more than obvious."

"No, I'm not."

Always checking you out because he loves the way skinny jeans look on you.

Calling you sweetheart.

Having a hard time whenever you decide to have fun with someone every once in a while, but obviously hiding it.

Loving the fact you have the same music taste.

He always lets you pick the music whenever he's driving.

"Excellent song choice." He would tell you.

Buying you ice cream, pads and pain meds whenever you get your period and spending time with you in bed watching movies while you sleep.

Playing with your hair whenever you fall asleep during movie nights.

Whenever a guy tries to flirt with you and you nicely tell him to fuck off he is proud.

You two have the same lame dad humor and he loves it.

Letting you drive Baby and not panicking about it.

Every time you smile at him, he falls in love a little bit more.

Loving the way your eyes sparkle whenever you're talking about something you're passionate about.

His favorite season being summer because he gets to see you wearing beautiful summer dresses.

You in a leather jacket makes him drool.

Always being the one telling you to be careful on a hunt and yelling at you whenever you do something stupid and impulsive.

Whenever you argue he always hopes it would end up with you on top of him.

Daydreaming about the concept of you two being together but never doing anything about it.

Loving your cluelessness because he's too scared to say anything.

[zirconika]

if you're up for it, would love to see a mildly angsty fluff daryl x reader piece where reader is one of the people at the prison who gets hit with the flu and while daryl is explaining the plan to go get the meds, reader jokingly asks if he can bring back a treat if she promises to be a good patient. cut to the aftermath of the prison fall and reader ends up getting out with help from michonne before they run into rick and carl and eventually reunite with daryl during the stand off with the claimers. the next morning daryl and reader finally get a moment to themselves to just breathe for a second and daryl pulls out a lollipop he had found back at the gas station when they were on the medicine run and shyly hands it over to reader

five seconds

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 5.3k SUMMARY: Guilty for arguing with you right before you fell ill, Daryl’s determined to make it up to you by fulfilling your request. His goal to deliver it to you is interrupted by the fall of the prison and the intrusion of the Claimers. WARNINGS: angst to fluff. nose bleeding. expect mean daryl, i got mean daryl fever from crush by @ghostboneswrites2. attempted sexual assault during the claimers scene, basically the violence that took place during that particular scene.  A/N: yes i am up for it i love love love this idea!!! i added my own twist to it too :)) so sorry it took three days i had no idea how to start it hsejkrkwa also it ended up being longer than i intended for it to be. hope u like it nonnie ! reblogs are appreciated!

     Friends do things for each other, that’s just the way it is. Rick Grimes hands you a gun? Friends. Carol Peletier offers you a bowl of soup? Friends. Daryl Dixon looks at you for five long seconds before going to sleep? That’s… That’s classified.

     Okay, friends. You might have been reading into it.

     Friends—It’s what you tell yourself what you are with the archer whenever you volunteer to earn your keep alongside him who, for some reason, seemed to be blatantly avoiding you ever since that damned staring session. 

     It wasn’t the length of the stare. It was how he looked at you and how you felt yourself looking at him. The two of you were just returning to your respective cells, expecting the other to say goodnight only to end up staring at each other. The worst part is how it ended. 

     It was so quick that you could have missed it, but Daryl Dixon’s eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he turned away to hurriedly retreat to his cell. You tried not to think about it too much, but Daryl deliberately and very obviously dodging you made it hard to forget. 

     When you went out to hunt together as per routine, you expected to hold at least a conversation half a minute long. You missed talking to the archer, you had to admit it to yourself at least. Which is why it pissed you to the bone that the next time you ever talked again was the next accident.

     “I had it under control!” you yelled at the archer, who didn’t seem to be too interested in your defenses. At your feet lay a walker whose head had served as a target for a bolt you knew all too well.

     You watched as Daryl made his way over to you, fury evident in each step. “Hell ya mean under control? Ya ain’t cut out for huntin’! Ya should’ve sensed that walker from a mile away.”

     “Woah, woah,” you humorlessly exclaimed, “I’ve been hunting with you since like, ever. The fuck you mean ‘I ain’t cut out for huntin’?”

     “‘Cause ya aint! Could’ve gotten yerself killed, woman.” What was he so mean about?

     You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right to some degree. If he hadn’t arrived in time, you would’ve been dealing with the aftermath of a walker bite by now. But it did not give him the right to speak to you like that. “Oh, you are not talking to me like that.” 

     “Just did,” he spat. “Now ya listen to me. Yer gonna return to camp and yer gonna—”

     “Sit around and do nothing?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You want me to knit you some sweaters, too? Make you holiday cookies?”

     “Guard the damn fences,” he said. Daryl stepped forward to grab you by your arm. You dodge him before he could get a hold of you, glaring at him as you did so.

     “I can walk by myself, thanks.” Before disappearing into the woods to return back to the prison, you flipped the guy off. What was up with him? You angrily mumbled to yourself, “It was just a walker.”

     It’s been a while since that happened, and this time, it was you who didn’t dare to speak to him. You didn’t want to be the first one to approach him. After all, you did nothing wrong. And yet he had the audacity to avoid you again.

     But it wasn’t that there were zero interactions, though. There were a handful, however blood boiling they were. You exchanged a couple glares whenever your eyes landed on one another.

     The worst one was when Patrick extended his hand to Daryl in front of you while he thanked the archer for his contribution. After Daryl shook his hand, you had to butt in, standing up while eating a bowl of oatmeal instead of the cooked meat. 

     “Well, that’s Daryl! Isn’t he just great, Carol? Such an amazing huntsman!” you mused sarcastically, giving the three of them the brightest smile you could. Daryl could only watch as you walked away from the scene, his eyes drilling a hole at the back of your head as you kept going on and on: “I don’t know how I could ever compete!”

     It didn’t take long for the group to catch on the heat.

     You didn’t mind that part. What you did mind, though, was Daryl’s snide remarks whenever you’d mess up as a retort to what you’d said in front of Patrick.

     Dropped a spoon? “S’why ya can’t be outside, can’t even hold a damn spoon righ’.”

     But you weren’t gonna let that slide. Whenever he’d say something to the group, you had something up your sleeve, too.

     He found an old warehouse west of the prison? “Oh, how splendid. Daryl and his plans. Everyone say ‘Thank you, Daryl’!”

     The last rebuttal you could recall was after you finished your task digging a grave for the recent casualties. You were taking a quick break by yourself, setting your shovel aside. From a distance, you watched Glenn and Maggie continue to dig. You shuddered at the thought of turning with no warning of a bite.

     Your body was sore all over from all the digging, your throat on the precipice of getting sore, and you felt the world beneath you sway uninterrupted.

     The moment you made to leave the shovel against the wall, the world swayed even worse, sending you to Daryl’s grasp. “Damn it, woman, watch ya step. Ya ain’t gonna last long bein’ such a damn klutz.”

     “Get off my back,” you said. You jumped out of his arms, glaring at him with the default face you’d grown used to using around him. You angrily grabbed your shovel again, dismissing that you weren’t even able to have a minute. You let adrenaline overtake your need for a break. 

     You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You did at first, but it kind of grew on you.

     That was until a portion of the prison fell ill from the rampant spread of the flu. You decided Daryl wasn’t worth your time for the time being, dedicating your focus on doing what you can for the prison. You did find yourself looking out for him every once in a while, though. Just to make sure he was still healthy.

     Not that it mattered or anything.

     But you watched in horror as Tyreese held Daryl by his vest. You found yourself stepping forward, wanting to intrude but Daryl held his hand out to Rick, a way of saying ‘I got it.’

     It bothered you that you felt a sort of responsibility towards the guy, however much of an asshole he was towards you. To be fair, you were just as bad to him. But you weren’t gonna admit defeat just like that.

     “We’re on the same side, man,” he told the furious Tyreese. And after that, it was all a blur. You watched the fight unfold. You wanted to stop Rick, to hold him off Tyreese, tell him it was over, but you remained rooted to the floor, frozen.

     You could’ve sworn you felt Daryl’s gaze on you before he managed to get Rick to stop until he did. Daryl stumbled backwards, bumping into you. Shivers went down your spine when he touched you by the waist to ask you, “Y’alrigh’?”

     You looked back at him. That same look again.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     You turned away to wipe at your nose, sniffling. Unsure of what to do, you hurriedly left the scene. Once you were far enough, you wiped at your nose again. Then came a metallic scent you just could not ignore no matter how hard you tried. You thought it was just the rust of the metal bars infiltrating your senses. 

     But when you looked down at your hand upon the third wipe, you were met by the sight of blood. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     After settling the dispute out, Daryl made it his mission to search for you before the council meeting. To his surprise, you were not in your cell, not outside, at least not anywhere he could find in three minutes. Deciding—hoping—you were probably busy somewhere, Daryl got back to the council’s table.

     Though he gave a fair share of ideas and listened intently, having even agreed to go on the run, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Before leaving, Daryl pulled Glenn aside, knowing he dug graves with you just a while ago.

     He didn’t even know why he had the urge to ask the guy, because how could he possibly have any clue of your whereabouts? But he had to ask something. “[Y/N] ever said anythin’ ‘bout stuff she had to do or somethin’?”

     “I don’t think so,” said Glenn, getting ready to seclude himself as well. “She’s probably isolated herself by now, too.”

     “Isolate herself for what?” Daryl scoffed in a poor attempt to disguise his concern. Glenn watched him as if he were a madman.

     “You didn’t see her this morning?” he asked the archer, who then said he did. The longer Glenn paused, the more Daryl followed. “She’s caught it, too.”

     At that moment, Daryl understood his routinely misdirected anger—why he felt his heart practically burn a hole through his chest at the sight of that walker almost getting you, why he could no longer stomach bringing you along with him on runs and hunts, and why he let his stares linger.

     Daryl Dixon understood why he kept his distance in fear of letting whatever it was he felt fester, burying it deep within himself where even he could not find it. Until he discovered that he had a bigger fear—a phobia, even.

     The thought of losing you. And it was all the more clear to him now as he peeked through the small window to find you gripping one of the bars of a cell, keeping steady. You’d gotten weak since the last time he saw you, and he thought back to when you furiously went back to work after he’d interrupted.

     He felt a guilt like never before, feeling responsible for your condition.

You caught sight of him from afar, and your eyes locked. 

     One.

     Two.

     You gestured to the visitation room. He nodded.

     Finding yourself face to face with Daryl Dixon afterwards divided by a glass partition was something you didn’t expect you’d ever have to experience. You didn’t even think he’d care enough to take the time to do so.

     Ever since you shared that long second stare, you’ve been wondering when you’d ever have the luxury of sharing it again. But even you couldn’t hold it for that long. 

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     “Go on, lay it on me,” you said.

     You longed to hear his typical insults, the ones you were used to hearing by routine. Instead, Daryl, took a deep breath and told you, “M’sorry. ‘Bout everythin’.”

     Safe to say that you were taken aback. You opened your mouth to tease him about it, but you had to look away as you felt the itch in your throat begging to be scratched inside. You coughed out loud, and Daryl couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of you.

     “What, no ‘yer hideous,’ ‘serves ya righ,’ or even ‘fuckin’ idiot’?” you asked jokingly, attempting to make an impression of the way he talked. 

     “S’why I didn’t want ya out there,” he said, ignoring your attempt at triggering that part of him. It went out the minute he realized you were on borrowed time. “Didn’t want ya to risk yer life for some pig meat.”

     You realized he’d gotten serious. You took your seat across from him, scrutinizing the way he looked at you. “Oh, and you’re allowed to?”

     He shrugged. “Yeah, ‘cause I ain’t an idiot like you.”

     “There it is,” you chuckled. Daryl laughed along with you, and it was the first time in a long time that you’ve laughed together. And when the moment passed came that damned stare again.

     One.

     You couldn’t hold it. “I don’t know how much time I have left so… Thanks for coming.”

     Daryl snorted. Though he laughed, he was just as scared as you are. Maybe even more scared. “Ya ain’t gonna turn. We’re gonna head out ‘n get some meds. There’s a vet college some ways away from here, and I’m gonna make sure stupidity ain’t gon’ be the reason ya die. Ya ain’t dyin’, that’s final.”

     “They got everythin’ there?” you asked.

     “I dunno, Hershel gave us a list. Said it should have ‘em.”

     “You know how things are, right? How everything usually doesn’t end up going the way you want it to. So…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. “On the off-chance it’s limited, I don’t want to hog any of it.”

     “Whaddya mean?” the archer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn’t like where this was going.

     “I mean that if there’s a shortage, I’m fine not getting it. I’ve been with these people for half an hour and… Daryl, they deserve a second chance. They want to survive.”

     “And ya don’t?”

     “I don’t know,” you confessed, sniffling. You weren’t crying, but your stuffy nose made it hard to breathe just as badly. Daryl’s heart sank. His guilt just kept growing knowing he’d been unreasonably rude to you just this morning and every morning that came before. “It gets tiring at times, but it does get fun when you spend it with the right people. But then again, who knows how long you’ll be having any of those, too?”

     Daryl opened his mouth to say something only to take it back the instant he thought of it. I’m not gonna let ya die. He stuck to his stubborn script instead. This is what Daryl was avoiding; the burden of caring. “Yer gonna take the meds whether ya like it or not.”

     You couldn’t help but smile at his stubborn drive. It was one of the many things you admired about him. “What, you’re gonna be all mean to me again if I don’t follow your instructions, Doctor Dixon?”

     “Doctor wha—?” He stifled a laugh to no avail. It was through that moment that you found out that Daryl’s laugh was music to your ears. “Nah, we’re way past that. M’gonna start a new method. Ya do somethin’ good, ya get somethin’ good instead of gettin’ somethin’ bad when ya do somethin’ bad.”

     “So reward punishment,” you suggested with a smile. 

     “Exactly.”

     “So,” you began, “if I promise to be a good patient…”

     “Uhuh,” he nodded.

     “If I take the meds…”

     “Mhm.”

     “You’re gonna give me a treat?” You resisted the urge to joke about a kiss. It felt too early, and you worried it would spook Daryl away and ruin the moment.

     “Yep.”

     “Really?” you asked, grinning wider that it almost seemed as if you never even caught the flu. “Like, one of those lollipops they give out after a vaccine just so you stop crying?”

     Daryl had no idea what you talked about, having never experienced getting one good check-up his whole life, depending his health on whatever remedies he and his brother can fashion on their own. But you seemed to be thrilled about it, and that was enough. “Yeah, like that.”

     You pretended to consider it for a while, acting like you were deep in thought. “Alright, we have a deal, you fucker.”

     He smirked. “Wipe that stupid smile off yer face.”

     And though you didn’t take it too seriously, Daryl was already hatching a game plan he could use to find one for you the moment you mentioned it. After all, he was a man of his word.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     Daryl Dixon was one of the few people who valued solitude. This time, though, he found himself craving company long after the fall of the prison as well as when he lost Beth. 

     Thus, the universe sent the worst possible group to accompany him—the Claimers. Even he realized the change within him when he realized the difference in how he’d choose his company now and before.

     It shook him to his core that he would have chosen this group had he not met Rick’s, had he not met you. As he and the Claimers made their way through the roads in search of the perpetrators they sought to give a piece of their mind. 

     Daryl decided he’d ride with the Claimers for survival, thinking to himself he’d be fine coasting with them for just a little while until he found the right opening to leave. That was, until he discovered that they’d been hunting the same group Daryl had been looking for, but with different motives.

     “Hold up,” Daryl said carefully, so as to not rile the leader who had Rick dangerously at gunpoint. 

     “You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” the leader accused. You felt your heart sink from where you were, fearing how the scene would unfold. You held Carl’s hand to comfort him, but it was just as well an attempt to comfort yourself. Carl returned the sentiment. 

     Daryl stepped closer with caution. “Let’s hold up.”

     One of the guys holding a shotgun opened his mouth. “This is the guy who killed Lou, so we got nothin’ to talk about.”

     “Carl,” you whispered under your breath, not daring to move to even look at the kid. You could only hear a bit, but the silence in the car and the slightly opened windows was enough to let you hear a bit.

     “The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time,” the leader said. He kept his eyes on the archer. “Say your piece, Daryl.”

     “These people,” Daryl started. “Yer gonna let them go. These are good people.”

     You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace upon observation that the group’s leader was unimpressed. “Now, I—I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I, of course, would have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in the bathroom.”

     You whispered again, frozen in place. “Carl, I need you to get in the back. Slowly.”

     “You want blood? I get it,” Daryl said. You watched as the archer dropped his crossbow and threw his arms open. The fuck is he doing? “Take it from me, man.”

     Carl slowly brought his legs up to him, trying not to make a noise.

     Daryl kept coming closer. “Come on.”

     “This man killed our friend.” By the look on their leader’s face, you knew there was no way this would go in peace. “You say he’s good people. See now, right there is—is a lie.”

     “Carl, hurry,” you whisper again. But his attempts at doing so is halted by the events that followed.

     Daryl dropped his arms to his side, realizing the same as you. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle your frightened yell as one of them hit Daryl with the butt of a shotgun. You could only watch in fear as two of the men dragged him to the hood of the car you and Carl were in.

     As they beat him shitless, Daryl looked up to find your face staring right back at him from inside the car. For a moment, he thought he was seeing you as he approached death, but his eyes widened in terror realizing you would be involved in the scene. 

     A wave of relief and dread coursed through him; relief that you had gotten out of the prison and dread that he wouldn’t be able to protect you this time. 

     The door swung open and a man yanked Carl out before you could even reach him. “C’mere, boy.”

     “Carl!” Your door swung open as well, one of the men tackling Daryl just seconds ago hauling you off your seat as you tried to put up a fight. 

     “You leave him be!” you heard Rick yell over the commotion.

     The man pointing a gun to Michonne wasn’t afraid to make his threats and intentions clear either. “You get yours. You just wait for your turn.”

     You felt the threat of a knife to your throat and you got a whiff of a mouth that reeked of booze. You felt your perpetrator’s warm breath tickle the lines of your neck, taking you in.

     You were terrified of what he’d do to you, what they’d do to Carl. “Let him go!”

     “Not so fast, hot stuff,” the man taunted you, toying with your hair. 

     “No, get off her!” Daryl exclaimed as his assailant pinned him down as another guy ruthlessly beat him up. Daryl didn’t care.

     “Listen, it was just me. It was just me!” Rick admitted, desperately trying to bargain for his group’s freedom.

     “See, now, that’s right! That’s not some damn lie! If we can settle this, we’re reasonable men.”

     “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death. Then we’re gonna have the girls, then the boy. Then I’m gonna shoot you and soon we’ll be square!” 

     You heard Daryl yelp as they beat him. “Stop hurting him!”

     The leader of the gang looked at Daryl, then at you. His fucking stare made your blood run cold. “Maybe we can keep little Daryl here for a while, give him a little show. Make him watch.” His laugh sent ripples of unease throughout your body even as you were thrown to the ground, the man getting on top of you. 

     “No!” you heard Daryl exclaim as he put up a harder fight to no avail, his body already weakened. More so was yours.

     “Claimed!” the man yelled, his eyes already feasting on you.

     Everything was… You couldn’t think anymore. You felt your legs part open, and with it your head throbbed. The lack of sleep, the hunger, the thirst, everything was coming down all at once. You could only hear the wicked cackling of their leader, Rick yelling at the man to let go of his son—

     Then it was ringing in your ears at the sound of a gunshot. And yet the nightmare didn’t end. You didn’t like it. Didn’t like any of it. The sniffing and the giggling… The hands on your waist as they trailed down… 

     You thought of nothing. Perceived nothing until you felt the hands gripping your body start to loosen. Maybe you were gone already, maybe… This is the end. 

     The weight on top of you was gone altogether, and you could hear Rick’s furious grunts as he plunged a knife deep into the throat of the man who took Carl. You looked up to find Daryl tussling with the man who was just on top of you.

     “Daryl…” You were slipping in and out of consciousness, and a couple steps from where you lay you saw the two other men who’d been beating Daryl just moments before splayed unconscious on the cold concrete road.

     The ringing in your ears was louder as you watched your assailant fall to the ground, and Daryl shoving his foot down his head in vengeance.

     You lay there among the leaves, tilting your head up to the sky, only grateful Daryl was fine. He ran to you as soon as he did what he saw he had to do.

     “[Y/N],” he called, scooping you into his arms and away from the floor. You wanted to stay awake, to ask him how he was, to confess you were scared shitless and you were tired of pretending you weren’t…

     The last thing you could remember was Daryl holding you as you let slumber take you away.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     When you awoke, you thought you were back in the prison. For a split second, you thought you just had a horrible nightmare. As your eyes began to adjust to the sun, you realized you were in the front seat of the car with the backrest inclined for your comfort.

     Michonne’s presence in the backseat told you otherwise.

     “Michonne?” You looked around to find no one else. The windows were covered with different cloths, too. You looked down on her lap to find Carl fast asleep while Michonne caressed his face. “How is he? How are you?”

     She looked up at you, an undeniable sorrow in her eyes. She was just as tired. “I’m fine. He’s shaken. What about you?”

     The events of the night before flashed before your eyes. You had to shake your head to be rid of it. You needed air. “I’ve been better, I just need air.”

     Michonne nodded, respecting your distance. “Rick’s right outside.”

     “And…?”

     “Daryl?” she asked, to which you nodded meekly. Michonne gave you a reassuring smile. “He stayed with you the entire time, he stepped out just now. He’s fine.”

     “Oh, okay.” Fixing your hair, you returned her kind gesture with a warm smile as well. “I’ll just go get some fresh air, I think I need it.”

     You swung the door open and hopped out. Once you walked forward, you jumped in shock. You didn’t expect to be in the same place from when everything happened. Just in time, Daryl popped out from the other side of the car. “You alrigh’?”

     The corpses were still splayed out flat on the concrete and beside the road. You had to look away from the grotesque scene, your heart pounding. “Yeah, I’m fine—I’m okay.”

     “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked. Daryl gave Rick a knowing look before patting him on the shoulder. Rick nodded, letting the archer know that he’ll be fine. Daryl moved towards you and tapped you by the shoulder. He took back his hand the moment you flinched, instinctively recoiling to physical touch.

     “Sorry, I’m just—I know I don’t need to feel that way around you, it’s just—”

     “I get it.” Daryl understood; he was there when it happened. But he’d make sure he’d also be there after. His hand hovered behind the small of your back. “May I?”

     Daryl waited until you nodded before he let his hand rest on your back to guide you away from the mess.

     “Let’s take a walk. Have some water,” he said, handing you a half empty bottle. You took big gulps religiously, craving its feel in your throat. “Thank you.”

     You hand the bottle back to him only to realize that you had drunk all of its contents. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

     “Nothin’ ya gotta apologize for.”

     You only nodded in response, still troubled by everything. 

     Daryl halted, gently touching you by your wrist. You’d never felt that sort of tender touch before, and it was easy to miss it once it ended. “Hey, I—uh, I almost forgot.”

     “Hm?”

     “Y’know, the terms of our agreement.” You watched as Daryl fumbled with himself, and a laugh escaped you. He seemed to be flustered with what he was about to do, but you could tell he’d been anticipating doing it by the pace he was searching. He checked his shirt pockets. When he dug into his jeans’ front pocket, he pulled out something small, then extending his hand to you. “M’sorry I only got two, I wasn’t sure what flavor ya wanted and I accidentally got them in the same flavor and there were walkers and I know it ain’t an excuse but—”

     You took it. You kept eyeing the two lollipops in your hand. It was both strawberry-flavored, and it was one of those jumbo ones that were slightly bigger than the regular ones. “Daryl, that was a joke. You didn’t have to” — you snorted, a smile breaking on your face — “actually get me one.”

     “Nah, I’m a man of my word.” Daryl returned your smile. “I say m’gonna get ya somethin’, then m’gonna get ya somethin’. Simple.”

     “Well, then,” you said, handing him the other one. “You get the other one.”

     “Nah, it’s yours.”

     “No. Get it.”

     “Nah,” he said.

     If Daryl was stubborn, you were nothing compared to him. You stuffed the other one in his pocket. “There. And don’t even try to argue with me on it, I wanna have it with you.”

     “Alright, alright.”

     Heat rushed to your cheeks. He really did bother. You continued walking, Daryl followed.

     “Ya don’t have to open it now, we need to get ya some more water first so yer throat doesn’t get sore again.”

     “Thought this was my treat?” you teased. “For being a good patient?”

     “Yeah, well, doctor says you should lay off it for a bit ‘til ya get some more to drink.”

     You snorted. “Oh, yeah? What doctor.”

     Daryl pointed to himself. “This doctor. Doctor Dixon.”

     “You like that a lot, huh?”

     “Actually, I hated it but… S’kinda growin’ on me.”

     After you shared a laugh. There was that goddamn lingering stare.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Daryl turned around, afraid the heat in his cheeks were possibly giving away how he felt with a faint blush. “We should—Whaddya say we head back?”

     “Sure, wouldn’t wanna have you going down on one knee to propose,” you joked.

     “Shuddup,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. 

     On the whole way back, you talked together, just like you always did whenever the two of you were out hunting. Speaking with Daryl made everything else matter a little less that you don’t even realize how far you’ve gone until it comes into your mind.

     While walking the tracks with Rick, Carl, and Michonne, the two of you walked slightly behind. 

     “I’m just saying, if we get to this place, it’s not gonna—!” You shrieked as your feet caught on one of the sleepers of the tracks. To your relief, Daryl caught you with his hand holding yours and his other hand assisting your waist.

     The three turned around to check on you both. Rick called out, “You alright back there?”

     “Yeah! We’re fine!” he said back. You were worried Daryl would drop your hand. He didn’t.

     When no eyes lingered on either of you anymore, the stare you’d been yearning for returned, leaving you to wonder what would break it this time before it could reach five.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Four.

     Five.

     To your surprise and your relief, Daryl smiled at you. And oh, did it feel melting. It was hard not to return his smile when it was so damn contagious. You were sure your heart was doing gymnastics at this point, feeling it beat so hard against your chest.

     “What’re you looking at me like that for?” you asked the archer.

     “Yer still fuckin’ clumsy as fuck,” he remarked with a teasing smirk.

     He’d been dying to hear you laugh again, so he’s relieved that you do. “Welcome back. Thought you said you had your whole new justice system in store?”

     “Well, doctors still gotta scold their patients, especially when the patient in question is an idiot.”

     You rolled your eyes. “You have any rule in your book about doctors holding their patients’ hands? Y’know, like, ‘Don’t do that’?”

     Daryl looked down on your intertwined hands, pretending to scrutinize it with careful thought. “I dunno, I think if the patient’s fine with it, then the doctor’s fine with it, too.”

     You did the same only to look back up at him with a grin. “Patient says it’s fine. Is the doctor fine with it?”

     “Doctor Dixon says it’s recommended to keep his patient healthy.” 

     “Patient has a request, though,” you tell him as you use your other hand to pull out your lollipop from your pocket. “She wants Doctor Dixon to share a treat together.”

     “Doctor Dixon says, ‘What the hell’.” He does the same, pulling his lollipop out. You had to let go of each other’s hands for a bit to take off the wrapper before throwing it away. Daryl was the first to take your hand, eager to hold it again. You let him.

     Throughout the entire journey to Terminus, all your fears and worries were at bay, all because Daryl never let go of your hand. The two of you talked about the sweetness of what you were having, how it was a great change from what you were used to eating. And it was right then and there that he knew he wanted to be holding your hand whenever, wherever, and however long he could.

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[raisin-writes]

one piece men hcs: period sex

featuring the blorbos of my choice- law, bartolomeo, bellamy, corazon, and doflamingo

warnings: blood (obviously), narsty boys (looking directly at barto), smut, period eating

nsfw under the cut, minors dni 🫵👁️👁️💢

Law:

• im sorry babe, he may be a doctor and he may not be squeamish about touching peoples organs and blood, but he will not go down on you on your period 😔 (coward).

• hes kinda weird about period sex, he'll do it if you ask him super sweetly and look at him with those big pathetic puppy eyes, and he'll sigh dramatically and agree to it, but he really doesnt like doing it on the bed, he prefers the bathroom where its easiest to clean.

• usually he's kind enough to finger fuck you when you ask for it, but hes quick to pull his hand out of your pants and run to the sink to wash his hands off before shooing you to bed with a peck on the forehead. hes a busy man, hes got work to do.

• when he does have time, though, he'll make sure to take proper care of you afterwards.

• he'll offer to bring you water, a snack, pain meds, a towel, a hot pack, hell he'll even carry you to the shower if your legs are too shaky to stand on and clean you off with a gentleness so rarely seen from a man like him.

Bartolomeo:

• NASTY BOY ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

• you dont even need to ask, he'll be able to smell a hint of blood from across the room and hunt you down like a shark.

• begs you to let him eat you out while on his knees, massaging and pawing at your thighs.

• "c'mon sweetheart, i just wanna help ya~"

• VERY enthusiastic eater, if he could stick his tongue up any further into you he would.

• likes when you sit on his face so he can feel the blood and cum dribble down the sides of his face.

• as he's fingering you, he'll suddenly pull his bloody hand up to his lips and suck the liquid off each digit before shoving them back inside you to do it again with a big cocky grin.

• hes fucking ravenous.

• fucks you like an animal and likes watching you coat his cock in red multiple times.

• truthfully, there might not be much blood left to leak out of you by the time hes done with you.

• dont worry, he'll make sure theres plenty of cum to leak out instead.

• hes super super sweet afterwards.

• "im so sorry, i didnt think i'd get so carried away there," he'll scratch the back of his head sheepishly.

• acts like a mother hen while he cleans you up so youre all nice and pretty again- hes usually pretty good about cleaning up after himself when it involves you.

• gets sad and confused when you vehemently refuse to give him a big wet kiss afterwards.

Bellamy:

• another nasty boy, but its more of a theatrical thing.

• hes fine with licking other peoples blood off his face, this isnt much different to him.

• he does play it up for you a bit (and the invisible audience in his head, he has to look cool for them always).

• makes a big show of lapping it up while locking eyes with you.

• the wide, wolfish grin on his face while his tongue swipes over the stray blood dripping off his lower lip makes you whine.

• he'll finger you whenever you ask even when you arent menstruating, it makes no difference to him, he just likes seeing you come undone on his hand.

• will let you dry hump his towel-covered thigh if hes too busy with something like a log or a paint manual (hes a study-at-the-last-possible-minute kinda guy).

• he'll fuck you however you need him to.

• want him to put you in a mating press and make you squirt all over his stomach?

• no problem.

• need something slow and tender like sitting in his lap while he gently rocks into you?

• he can do that too.

• hes a man that aims to please, and will almost never turn down the opportunity to stuff you full of himself.

• surprisingly decent at aftercare.

• he'll make sure youre mostly clean and get some water for you both before he stuffs you under his arm like a teddy bear to cuddle.

Corazon:

• hes surprised when you first ask to have sex with him on your period.

• he didnt think he would be very into it at first but the seemingly deeper intimacy of it...

• and the way youre so much more weak and pliant for him when youre like this... it does something to him.

• something clicks in him that hes gotta take care of you.

• only you.

• he's reluctant to eat you out, but he'll do it while looking up at you to make sure youre enjoying it.

• hes careful with foreplay and even more careful with the main event.

• the tenderness of the moment will probably make him cry, he feels so connected to you like this.

• doesnt even let himself savor his own release (if he even cums at all, your pleasure is so much more important in this moment) before he trips over himself to get you snacks and water and pain meds and anything he could possibly think to make you more comfortable.

• make sure to cuddle him tight and give him a big thank you kiss for all his hard work.

• he might cry again, hes just so full of love right now.

Doflamingo:

• on one hand, he thinks its kinda dirty and filthy.

• but on the other hand... hes kinda into the dirty and filthy aspect.

• he doesnt eat you out, but if you really beg him, he'll make his string clone do it while he holds you.

• even if its not the real doffy, his tongue alone makes you melt into a puddle on the mattress.

• as soon as you've cum enough for his liking, he'll shove the clone out of the way and get to work on stretching you open for himself.

• hes not very comforting, but he'll make sure youre more than satisfied so long as he gets satisfaction too.

• is decent enough to let you adjust to him but his patience does have a limit, so hurry up and relax for him already, hes got other things he needs to get done today.

• hes not as gentle as you want him to be, but he'll get you to the finish line even if you cant keep his pace.

• having you so sensitive and compliant for him like this makes him all the more cocky (unfortunately).

• heavy on the teasing dirty talk.

• "so weak and helpless for me, pet... what would you even do without me here to take care of you?"

• always makes you cum hard on his cock; if you squirt, all the better for his ego.

• he has to admit, something stirs in his gut when he sees your blood dripping out alongside his cum.

• not very hands-on with the aftercare portion; it truthfully wigs him out being that vulnerable, even if its you.

• he'll send a maid in to help you clean up with anything that you might need or ask for.

• what really surprises you is the pretty bouquet that comes in along with the other aftercare items.

• ...

• it doesnt happen very often, but he'll stay to cuddle with you for a little bit before the maid comes if you manage to grab him before he leaves- you dont even have to say anything for him to know what you want.

• he supposes he can indulge you sometimes.

[shellforbrains]

the idea of Stolas publicly humiliating Blitzø in Apology Tour needs, needs, NEEDS to be looked at through the lens of their class difference.

(this is an idea that's been floating around twitter. that stolas is going full diss track in the scene the above screencap is from.

and weirdly enough, there's been some people PRAISING or DEFENDING the idea.

so i did a thread about it on twitter & decided to post it here too bc why not. slightly edited of course bc i made typos in the original lmao.)

first off: i am of the belief that one of the big reasons that Full Moon goes badly is bc stolas is off his meds.

i think that both stolas & blitzø will share some blame for the conversation spiraling out, but i think the main underlying reason that this happens is bc stolas is off his meds & not communicating his point properly.

second: i think that if blitzø DOES cross some sort of line in FM & ends up really hurting stolas, stolas is obviously within his rights to be hurt & feel bad about that shit. and especially bc he's going through his second adolescence & feeling a lot of these intense & big feelings for the first time.

him lashing out in some way or being a little petty could be in somewhat understandable. he's not perfect & has flaws just like everyone else.

HOWEVER. i do not think stolas lashing out after FM or going so far as to PUBLICLY HUMILIATE blitzø is what will happen. doing something like this would kinda be major steps backwards in stolas' character growth.

he has done a lot of work on himself over the 1st half of season 2 but he still has a long ways to go, ESPECIALLY in regards to how he treats imps as a whole.

stolas, a very powerful and influential prince of hell showing up to publicly humiliate blitzø, an imp at the bottom of hell's class system, would be... very questionable at best. and potentially dangerous for blitzø at worst.

regardless of how hurt stolas could potentially be & what big feelings he's experiencing for the first time in his second adolescence, the position & privilege he still currently holds are things that always needs to be considered. especially since a huge part of his character arc is that he's starting to REALIZE the extent of that class divide & how he unintentionally took advantage of that with the Full Moon Deal.

i REALLY do not think that stolas will actually belt out a blitzø diss track. i think that he will be using this opportunity to attempt to communicate properly what he WANTED to say in FM but couldn't bc their conversation spiraled.

but i am still writing this to try to get people to look at this from an alternate perspective.

i love stolas. i relate to him so much & i don't want to make it seem like i don't think he's allowed to be imperfect or hurt by things. i am merely REMINDING anyone that reads this that the class difference between stolas & blitzø currently still plays a large part in A LOT of aspects of their relationship.

publicly humiliating blitzø with the influence he has would NOT be a girlboss moment. it would carry a LOT of weight on how blitzø & his company could be seen & maybe even have an effect on their livelihood.

which is exactly what stolas wanted to AVOID by giving blitzø the crystal in the first place.

he is giving the crystal so that I.M.P can keep going & growing, as well as trying to put blitzø & himself on ever-so-slightly more even footing. this idea of publicly humiliating blitzø would be the exact OPPOSITE of that.

[d4yl1ghts]

soft

alex karev x fem!reader

summary: evil spawn isn’t so evil when he discovers you struggling in a closet

warnings: panic attack

-

You were a new intern at Seattle Grace and today you had been chosen to help perform in your first surgery. You were extremely excited but your overall emotion was nerves. What if you messed up? What if the patient died? What if you kill the patient? You knew you were overthinking it but you couldn’t help the spiral of your thoughts. You knew you were a good surgeon, it was a simple procedure that you had practiced many times in med school. This was easy.

All week you had been stressing over it. You would say dreading it but you were looking forward to it but you were just so anxious.

And that is what lead you to hiding in the nearest janitor’s closet whilst tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to be heading down to the OR in five minutes but you needed a moment to collect yourself. With your mind racing, you paced around the tiny area with out falling over the cleaning supplies.

Bailey had sent Alex or ‘evil spawn’ to come and find you as you were due in the OR now. He had paged you and told you to go to the OR but he was yet to see you. Meanwhile, you were taking deep breaths and then you left the closet. On your way to OR 3, you stumbled upon Alex who seemed to notice your nervous demeanour. “Are you alright, Bambi?”, he questioned with genuine concern laced in his voice. The nickname had developed when you knocked into him on your first day and spilt your water all over him. He obviously being evil spawn didn’t take it too well but he eventually got over it.

“Yep, I’m fine.”, you said in a hushed voice as you struggled to breathe properly. “You don’t sound it.”, he stated. “Come here.”, he guided you into another closet. “Take some deep breaths, follow me, 1… 2… 3…”, he continued as you tried to follow him. He only noticed you getting worse as more tears began to stream down your face and your breathing fastened.

“Okay, okay, look at me, baby.”, he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. He then repeated his breathing steps for you to follow. “In through your nose and out through your mouth. Well done.”

Never in a million years would you have expected Alex Karev to be so good at comforting someone. Right now he was so not living up to his nickname. When you had calmed down, you slowly got up. “Thank you so much, Alex. It genuinely means so much.”, you thanked him awkwardly.

“No problem, anyway, should we head off to perform the surgery now?”, he questioned. He realised your face had become full of nerves again. He cupped your cheeks and stated with certainty: “You can do this, you’re one of the best interns here, maybe even the best. You’ll pass this with flying colours, trust me.”

You smiled at him and your cheeks started blazing. You loved how sweet and gentle he was with you. Also, you couldn’t deny his good looks but you couldn’t give him the ego boost. However, one thing that would damage his ego is the news that evil spawn has a soft spot.

Who knew Alex Karev would have gone soft for an anxious girl in need of some guidance?

[xf-cases-solved]

headcanon/fic idea where during the cancer arc, mulder is over at scully's place on a saturday morning going over a case file (that probably could have waited until monday, but he wanted to check on her, and scully knows that, and mulder knows that scully knows, but they both just keep it to themselves). and at one point, scully checks the time and sighs and says she needs to call and cancel her nail appointment for that afternoon, and when mulder asks her why, she says it's bc her dr prescribed her a new med and it's giving her slight double vision, and "it's a common side effect and it's temporary, but i don't want to drive until i adjust to it, and it's not worth it to pay for a cab just for a manicure"

and mulder is like, "i'm not doing anything today, i'll take you"

and obviously scully dismisses the offer, but he keeps insisting, and the truth of it is, with all the constant med adjustments and (occasionally gross) physical side effects of medication and just being sick in general, she hasn't felt particularly attractive in weeks, and while it's not like she is trying to impress anybody, she takes a lot of pride in her appearance and how she presents herself to the world, and her nails are so brittle and the polish has completely chipped away from her last manicure, and honestly, this one little thing, no matter how inconsequential, really would go a long way to making her feel more like herself

so she eventually relents (which pleasantly surprises mulder bc she is stubborn af)

on the way there she's already apologizing for how boring he'll probably find it -- how frivolous and feminine -- and "it shouldn't take too long, i'll tell her to skip the hand massage," and mulder is like, "if you tell her not to give you a hand massage i will hold you at gunpoint until you let her do it" bc he is NOT about to let her skip out on some self-care bc she's worried he'll be judging her for indulging in something "girly"

(he knows she constantly walks a fine line between expressing her femininity and keeping it to herself bc she's worried it will make her male peers view her less seriously)

her nail tech immediately asks if mulder is her husband, even tho she knows damn well he's not bc she asks him if she's found a man yet at every gd appointment, and when she says no, the nail tech is like, "why not? he's handsome and he took you to your appointment, he seems like good husband material"

(they side step out of the conversation, but she is painfully aware of mulder's smirk)

her nail tech asks mulder if he wants a manicure too, and scully thinks she's probably joking, but mulder is like "hell yeah," and scully feels like how she does when he talks about aliens with random cops and witnesses with a straight face -- like, a little embarrassed, but also in awe of his complete lack of giving a fuck

so they are seated side-by-side and get manicures at the same time

mulder doesn't get any polish, but he lets his nail tech shape his nails and apply cuticle oil and, yes, give him a hand massage

he and scully have a brief debate about her nail polish, bc she always gets a super light pink or just a glossy finish (bc anything bolder would feel like overindulging in her femininity and she doesn't want to give any of her misogynistic peers more ammo), but mulder is mercilessly persistent, saying shit like, "that peach color would look good on you" (it wouldn't, she thinks, she's too pale for it) or "that burgundy one would match the new dark lipstick you got a while ago," and she's sat there wondering when the fuck he noticed something as trivial as the shade of her lipstick, and does that mean he's paid attention to other aspects of her appearance? and if so, what does he think of them?

(eventually she lets him talk her into an insanely light shade of baby blue, mostly bc he said it would complement her eyes and she was too caught off guard to tell him to stuff it, and the nail tech makes another casual quip about how good of a husband he would be, and a teeny tiny voice in the back of her head that she can barely hear is saying, "yeah, actually, he would")

when they're finished, he slips the nail tech his credit card while she is searching for her wallet in her overcoat pocket, and he does not look remotely remorseful when she reprimands him, that bastard

in the car, she can't help laughing at the way he keeps checking out his nails, tilting them so the sunlight hits them through the window and he can see how uniform and shiny they are (his nail tech talked him into a clear top coat)

he offers to drive to the chinese restaurant a few blocks from the lincoln memorial, bc she mentioned to him two weeks ago that whenever she is too nauseous to want food, she can for some reason always stomach that restaurant's egg drop soup, and even tho she's not nauseous rn and has also eaten enough egg drop soup lately that it actually sounds a little abhorrent, she says yes anyway, bc she's so touched that he remembered that small detail

they end up getting an order to go (she orders a full entree of vegetable shrimp along with her soup, and the look of relief and delight on mulder's face when he realizes she has an appetite for once makes her blush)

they go back to her place and watch The Thing, and then a rerun of jeopardy (they're pretty evenly matched in terms of useless trivia knowledge, but the final jeopardy question is "this man is the only doctor in history to have a 300% mortality rate," and scully was saying "dr. liston !" before mulder had a chance to process how that was even possible)

she gets drowsy early (another side effect these days), and mulder is discreet in not pointing it out, and instead makes an excuse about needing to feed his fish so he should probably get going, and once again, they both know what he's doing, but they both keep it to themselves

she walks him to the door, and before he leaves, he takes her hand. she lets him raise it up beside her face, even tho she's not sure what he's doing, until he says, "yep, i was right, these make your eyes even prettier," and like ??? what is she supposed to do with THAT??

in the end she does nothing except let him kiss the tips of her fingers, right on the light blue polish, and then lets him kiss her on the forehead. (she tries not to think about where else she'd like him to kiss her, and fails miserably)

they part with shy goodbyes, and it's only in retrospect that she realizes she hadn't actually thanked him, not really

when she is dressed and ready for bed, she slides under the sheets and calls his cell

"mulder, it's me," and somehow he sounds delighted to hear from her, as if they hadn't just spent the entire day together

"i just wanted to thank you for today. i really needed it"

she isn't able to express her gratitude in full, bc that would require being emotionally vulnerable and she's not v good at that, but she suspects mulder hears what she isn't saying anyway

"anytime, scully," he says, and she knows he means it sincerely. "my hands are so soft, i might have to make this manicure thing a regular occurrence"

she laughs

"goodnight, mulder"

"goodnight, scully"

in the morning, the first thing she notices is the blue of her fingernail polish, and the warm feeling it gives her stays with her through breakfast and all the way through the afternoon

[hp-hcs]

ngl i’d lose my mind for some bottom mattheo x male reader content, there isn’t enough 🤧

(is there any at all just asking for a friend)

• smut • “best friends”, my ass (and your ass too, while we’re at it) — best friend! submissive! bottom! mattheo riddle x AMAB! soft top! reader

stuck in the hospital for the foreseeable future, so have some more shitty fanfic, my lil gayass weirdos

i’m also really fuckin high on pain meds rn so this is undoubtedly gonna be the most shameless fuckin smut i’ve ever written yw ig

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Would you fuck me?”

Your head shot up to stare at Mattheo with comically wide eyes as he burst into your dorm room and shut the door behind him.

You managed to splutter out a very caught-off-guard, “I- what?”

“Would you fuck me, Y/n? Pretty please, with a condom on top?”

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock. Finally finding your voice after a painfully long moment, you asked, “Are you high?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Entirely sober, I assure you.”

“Then- then why are you…?”

He sighed dramatically and trudged over to your bed, falling face down onto it. “Please?”

“That’s not really a reason, Riddle.”

“Fine! Fine. I want to lose my bottom virginity, alright?”

“I swear to Merlin-” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why me? You can literally just breathe and have people throw themselves at you. So why me?”

“Well…I want to- I wanna try being, like…submissive,” he mumbled, obviously embarrassed. “An’- an’ I trust you t’ take care of me ‘n be gentle an’ shit.”

“Damn, alright. Yeah…” you trailed off. “Shit, I mean, I’m flattered, really. Uh, yeah- yeah, I’ll do it.”

He visibly perked up. “Wait- really? You’d really do that for me?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “What else’re friends for?”

“Oh, so we’re still on the whole ‘best friends’ bullshit, huh?” He snickered.

“I’m already regretting this,” you sighed, actively choosing to ignore what he said. “This is a terrible idea.”

~~~

“This was a brilliant fuckin’ idea,” you gasped as you sank into him, moaning at the sensation. He was so tight and warm around you that you had to pause for a second just to catch your breath.

Mattheo whimpered underneath you, his face screwed up in mild discomfort. You gently stroked his side, pressing tiny kisses to his cheeks and murmuring, “Oh- you’re doing so good, sweetheart. So, so good. Y’feel amazing.”

Mattheo whimpered again, his fingers tightening their grip on your shoulders.

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to lose your composure. “Baby- baby, please- can I move?”

“Gimme- g-gimme a sec?” He whispered, his voice wavering.

“O-of course, honey,” you murmur back, trying to stay as still as possible for his sake. “Take as long as you need.”

After a moment of listening to his shaky breaths slowly even out, you eventually heard a softly whispered, “Okay, you can move.”

At his permission, you slowly started to move in and out. You groaned into his neck. “Merlin- you feel incredible, baby.”

Mattheo gasped when you hit a certain spot with a particularly hard thrust. “Fuck! There- do that again!”

You complied with his request, increasing the strength behind each movement until Mattheo was a whimpering, moaning mess beneath you. He cried out your name as he quickly came, his fingers scrabbling for hold on your shoulders and his nails digging into the skin.

You moaned loudly as he tightened around you, your stomach flip-flopping at the intensity of the sensation. You made a move to pull out, but Mattheo quickly tightened his shaking legs around your hips, tugging you back in.

“Please, no,” he begged. “Need- need- please!”

“Shh,” you shushed him, running a gentle hand up his stomach and chest. “Take a breath, honey. Tell me what you need.”

“Need-” His cheeks flushed and he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. “Need y’to keep going.”

You grinned, the tips of your ears going red.

You gripped his hips, resuming your original pace. Mattheo’s eyes practically rolled back in his skull as his jaw dropped from the overstimulation.

You grunted, speeding up to chase your high. You came with a low moan of his name, your orgasm hitting you out of nowhere like the goddamn Hogwarts Express.

Your arms shook and gave out as you collapsed on top of him. You panted heavily before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and pulling out; rolling off of him and onto your back as you tried in vain to catch your breath.

He grinned and curled into your side, his slow and steady breaths warm against the crook of your neck. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a long moment before Mattheo interrupted it.

“So…best friends, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

[sky-scribbles]

There are a lot of things to love about the SSV Normandy. It’s a symbol of cooperation between two species historically at odds. It’s a miracle of engineering, a technological masterpiece that could alter every pattern of space warfare. Its crew is the highest calibre that the Alliance has to offer, bolstered by multispecies allies: an emblem of flying hope.

It also has far, far too many flashing lights. Everywhere.

One hand pressed to the wall to keep himself steady, the other pressed against his forehead as if that’s going to do any good, Kaidan shuffles down the hall toward the med bay. Every light panel and display interface feels like a laser drill boring directly through his eyes, sounds reverberate against the inside of his skull, and his sense of balance is a distant, pleasant memory. Kaidan sucks in a tight breath between his teeth. It’s going to be okay. He can do this. He’s done it before.

He drags himself the last few feet, and the med bay doors slide open. Kaidan opens up his omni-tool – god, why are those so bright, too? – and does what he’s done a hundred times, scanning the medical interface so that the med system logs him. Doctor Chakwas isn’t here, which means she’s on her rest shift, but that’s fine. The med system will alert her if there’s a problem.  

Kaidan, turns, so ready to collapse into the nearest med bed – except he can’t. Because there’s someone already in it.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Hey, Tali.’

‘Hey, Lieutenant.’ She still seems shy about using his first name. Maybe it’s a habit from being raised on board ships, or maybe she’s just not sure if she’s allowed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I will be once the pain meds kick in.’ Kaidan makes it to the next bed along and finally, finally lies down and shuts his eyes. ‘Doctor Chakwas is just… pretty strict about me coming here whenever a migraine kicks in. Just in case it’s a sign of something going wrong with my implant.’

Through the fog of everything hurts, it finally surfaces in his brain that Tali in the med bay is… that’s bad, right? ‘What about you? Are you, you know –?’

Okay, he’s not sure how to finish that sentence. There’s probably not a polite way to say hey, are you here because you’ve picked up a fatal illness?

He cracks one eye open, just enough to see her looking glumly at him. He’s not sure how he can tell that she’s glum when all he can see is her eyes, but yeah. She’s glum. ‘You know how I took a hit on Feros?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And how I disinfected it, and used my patch kit on the suit breach, and told Shepard I was fine?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I was not fine.’ She slumps down miserably. ‘My throat is full of painful slime, my sinuses are on fire, and my halesh –’ Okay, that’s obviously some piece of quarian anatomy – ‘is more gummed up than I can describe.’

Kaidan shuts his eyes again. ‘Well, my skull feels like it’s slowly contracting and crushing my brain, so… I sort of feel you.’

She laughs weakly. ‘I should have run an extra med scan once I got back to the Normandy. I just – I wanted to help with the engine maintenance today. And there’s this combat drone design I’m working on. And now…’ There’s a sound of movement; Kaidan gets the impression that she’s gesturing at the med bay in angry helplessness.

‘I feel that too.’ And he does. He really does. This isn’t the worst migraine he’s ever had – he can actually hold a conversation, which some days would be beyond him. But it’s… it’s not great. And he had things to do. Ash was running a drill and wanted him to look over her plans. He had a cleaning shift at fourteen hours. Shepard wanted to talk strategy for Noveria.  And yes, he knows he has a right to take time off for a medical issue. He knows he’s no use to Ash or Shepard or anyone when he can’t even walk in a straight line. But knowing that doesn’t quite get rid of the squirm in his belly, the one that feels like letting people down.

Tali’s quiet for a minute, aside from the ever-present, barely-audible hum of her suit systems, and the occasional sniff from behind her helmet. Then she says, unexpectedly, ‘I’m just… I’m so tired. You know what I mean?’

Kaidan’s head throbs. He swallows. ‘Oh, yeah.’

The constant vigilance. Always having to be careful about where he goes – is this room too bright? Is this one too loud? – in case something triggers another bad spell. Taking hits to the head in a fight that anyone else could just shrug off, but that for him mean another trip to the med bay to make sure his implant isn’t damaged. Trying to do his job and suddenly finding, no, he can’t, because his body has decided that today’s the day he just doesn’t get to function.

Tali… she must go through the same awful deal, just in a different flavour. Always being careful, so careful. Someone else’s minor injury being her okay, let’s get a med check to make sure I won’t die. It’s not the same, of course: Kaidan can eat food without filtering it, touch people without protective layers, see people’s faces without a tinted mask. Still… there’s a tone in her voice that he knows from his own.

There’s a heavy silence. Then Tali says, ‘You know what’s really stupid? I left my datapad in my cabin, so I can’t even watch vids.’

Kaidan smiles. He’s seen her down in Engineering, a few times, hands flying around over the machinery, rocking back and forth on her heels. Idleness obviously doesn’t suit her. ‘You can borrow mine, if you like.’

‘Really?’ Her voice is already brighter. ‘I mean – won’t the noise will make you feel worse?’

‘Nah, I’ll be good.’ He’s not just saying it; there’s a blissful numbness creeping through his head which means that his meds are finally getting to work. He fishes the datapad from his pocket, taps in his passcode, and hands it over. ‘What kind of vids do you like?’

Her whole being perks up – tone, body, everything. ‘Oh, all of them.Any genre, any species. I mean… asari vids can be a bit long. I mean, they’re made by people who can spend a decade making a vid and a whole day watching it. Turians… their vids can be a bit depressing. There’s a lot of ‘this war ended with almost everyone dead, but one turian is still standing, so it’s a victory!”

‘What about quarians? What kinds of stories do your people tell?’

A small laugh echoes inside the helmet. ‘Quarian vids are pretty limited by environment. We don’t have a lot of varied sets to work with. So we tell the best long-running dramas. There’s one ship in the Flotilla that’s been hosting the same series for over eighty standard years now. Following the crew as they change over time, that sort of thing.’ She taps the base of her helmet. ‘It’s pretty good, but… I think if you watched it, you’d think there were a lot more explosions, murders and shipwide romantic entanglements in the Flotilla than there actually are.’

‘Human dramas are like that too.’

Tali laughs. ‘Quarian dramas make human dramas look relaxed.’

Kaidan finds he’s actually able to grin. ‘So what do human vids tell you about us?’

Her helmet tilts as she considers. ‘That you’re very individualistic. I mean, not every human culture. But you put a lot of focus onto characters and personal journeys.’ She scrolls down the datapad screen – looking through vid lists, presumably – then stops. It’s hard to tell, but Kaidan thinks she might be frowning. ‘I did notice… in a lot of human media, the biotics are…’

Another insistent pulse of pain through his temples. Kaidan sighs. ‘Crazy extremists?’

‘Yes. Do you… do you mind if I ask why that is?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Kaidan turns onto his back and stares up at the dim ceiling. ‘A lot of the early generation of biotics, the ones who got the same implants as me… let’s just say I got off lightly. Most ended up with much more serious medical conditions. And when people found out about the side effects of the L2 implants, the media got the bit between its teeth and –’ Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to translate. ‘Sorry. Human saying. They got a certain impression, and they ran with it.’

Tali’s quiet for several seconds. Kaidan twists his head to face her, and sees the pale eyes behind the mask giving him a long, steady look.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. And then, after a moment, ‘They tell lies about us, too.’

Kaidan holds her gaze, and feels terribly, achingly sad. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I bet they do.’

 The way people look at Tali as she walks through the Presidium… it’s familiar. Not quite the same. There’s a note of scorn in the looks they give to Tali – but there’s suspicion, too, and that’s something he knows. All the times back on Earth, after he got back from Jump Zero, when he shook someone’s hand or opened a door, and their eyes found the implants. They way they stared at him like he was a loaded gun. All the documents he had to fill out to do anything, the knowledge that any government he lived under would always be hovering a few steps away, keeping tabs, making sure.

Remembering Rahna – remembering that obvious, instinctive fear in her eyes – is an old memory now, the kind that’s a faded scar. But he remembers the shock of it, back when he was seventeen. When no one had looked at him like that before, and it was dizzying and new and felt like a hole in his gut.

He bets Tali has that hole in her gut all the time.

Kaidan pushes himself up a little – which makes his brain spin, but he manages it – and gives Tali a smile. ‘Well. Let’s look for something that gets us both right.’

‘Definitely.’ She flicks through the options for a minute more, then pauses. ‘Have you ever seen Fleet and Flotilla?’

‘I think I’ve heard of it.’ There’s a faint memory of seeing an ad for it, maybe, and thinking it was the kind of thing he’d have loved as a kid. Space exploration. Justice. Love. ‘The… war romance, right?’

‘Yes!’ Tali’s legs bounce. ‘It’s – keelah, it’s so good, it’s – it’s about this girl, Shalei, who’s on her pilgrimage. And she’s interested in the geth, because she’s got this dream of finding a way to defeat them and take back the Homeworld, right? And when she finds something, she goes to the Citadel for help, but no one will listen except this one turian called Bellicus –’

‘Hold up. Wasn’t that… exactly what you were doing when we met you? Minus the turian, I mean.’

Tali ducks her head, suddenly shy. ‘I… I really, really like the vid.’

No kidding. Kaidan smiles. ‘So let’s watch it.’

His head still feels like a bombsite, and when he thinks about all the things he wants to be doing for his crew and isn’t, the rest of him hurts too. But maybe he’s still doing something for his crew, sitting in the med bay with his sick squadmate – his sick friend – and sharing her favourite vid with her. Maybe he’s doing something for him, too. He doesn’t do that too often.

Tali props the datapad up on the table between their beds, her whole body one big smile. ‘You’re going to love this,’ she promises, and presses play.

[captain039]

Part 5 Daddy’s Little Girl

Logan x reader

Warnings: Age gap (early twenties reader), swearing, first times, virgin reader, plus size reader, tension, oral f receiving, smut, daddy kink, dom! logan, Abuse (Not from Logan), anxiety, depression, mention of self-harm scars, reader has muscle issues and body pain, angst

@mmeerraa @the141bandicoot @clairealeehelsing @dirtydianaahah @babey-fruit-bat @roseydoesypoesy @landlockedmermaid77 @nonamevenus

Previous part <-

After shopping you head back to his house. You feel like curling up and sleeping or crying, you haven't decided. Logan’s giving you soft smiles and comforting looks and you just want to slap him. You don’t know why, maybe to knock him out of whatever spell he’s under so he realises the situation. You don’t say much apart from a thank you and a going to go to your room before he can speak. You close the door softly sagging against it before you put the two bags down, Logan ended up paying for everything much to your protest. He gave you one raised eyebrow and you should’ve just kneeled at his feet. You huff gripping your hair briefly before sighing. You need to wash the clothes first before you wear them. You in pack and take the tags off before sneaking out hearing Logan on the phone. You tip toe to where you’ve seen his washing machine and frown at it once you’re there.

“Can’t be too hard” you mumble laying your clothes down and looking at the buttons.

You give up, whatever rubic’s cube bull shit this is and go to find Logan. He’s standing in the dining area phone still his ear as he speaks softly. He hangs up with a small sigh before sensing you and turning around.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“Um, can I borrow your washing machine? I don’t know how to use it though” you fiddle your jumper sleeve briefly before he smirks lightly but nods heading to the small room.

“Washing liquid goes in there, turn the dial here, press these two buttons and then the start” he explains and you relay it in your head and nod as the machine starts.

“Thank you” you say and he nods cursing softly when his phone rings.

“Scuse me, princess” he mutters and you nod heading to your room instead. You hear him talk angrily and tense up. You close your door and sigh a little shakily before unpacking the other things you bought. All toiletry items plus some extra things, pain meds, funny looking heating patches, a soft blanket too. You had been embarrassed when you wandered to the bedding area and began running your hands over the blankets with a 6’2 muscular man behind you, watching you. You explained in a mumble how you couldn’t sleep without one and liked the comfort of them. He didn’t judge though saying you didn’t need to explain yourself and that you were shopping for you to be comfortable. A small knock comes and you answer seeing Logan open the door and lean against the frame.

“Alright?” He asks and you nod.

“Everything alright with you?” You ask and he sighs.

“Thomas is kicking up a stink, mans always been bitchy” you can’t help the snort that leaves you at his words, it’s true though Thomas always had something to complain about.

“Sorry” you say laughing softly, seeing him smile too.

“Don’t be” he chuckles and pushes off the door before sitting by you. Your heart picks up as he takes your hand, the one you punched your father with. It’s bruised now not as bad as you thought it would be though. He brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles softly making you flush as he sighs a bit.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and he offers you a smile obviously hiding away whatever thoughts he had.

“Don’t worry about me Bub, you want some lunch?” He asks and you hesitate but nod. He gets up and leaves and you sigh quietly.

You had gone food shopping as well, Logan buying a trolly full of things, asking what you liked and didn’t like. It felt strange and to surreal, like you were going to wake up in your bed now, your father yelling at you for sleeping in. Logan makes sandwiches and you thank him before eating quietly at the table. Your minds in a whirlwind of thoughts. You can’t stay here forever, obviously that kiss he gave you didn’t mean much, he just being overly generous, kind. He’d never want someone like you. You barely finish your sandwich before excusing yourself to go back to your room. You grab a pen and paper, searching up jobs, different hotels, places you could stay it’d be almost impossible to get a job though even if the town was small. You’d need a record of your past two years of work which you didn’t have, bank statements. You spiral into things you need and crash. You lie sideways staring at the wall a few pieces of paper spread on the floor. You read your dad’s messages, hurtful, guilt tripping, fake apologies. You delete them all and his number feeling a little better. Logan had given you access to his wifi so you had free internet for now to research how to live on your own. You googled therapists, the doctors in town too, you needed a referral from the doctor to get into a therapist though. Another knock comes, but you don’t answer it but the door still opens.

“Sorry bub, checking to see if you were asleep or not” Logan says and you feel too exhausted to speak so you shrug. You expect him to leave but the bed dips with his weight and you frown lying your phone down and glancing to him.

“I think this bed is more comfortable than mine” he sighs and you smile slightly but stay facing your back to him.

“What’s with all the papers?” He asks casually and you tense.

“Doodling” you lie and he hums.

“You alright?” He asks after some silence and you sigh. No you’re not alright, you don’t want to explain it to him though.

“You can talk to me if you want to Bub” he says and you clench your jaw. You sit in silence before he sighs softly, gives your shoulder a squeeze before he leaves.

You skip dinner, pretending to be asleep when Logan comes back to check on you. He closes the curtains, covers you with a blanket and flicks your light off before closing your door softly. You wait till he’s asleep before going to your clothes out drying. You grab the ones you had with you that day and put them on again, you fold the blanket up nicely and make sure everything is tidy and neat. You move ordered a taxi to meet you down the road a bit, you have no idea where you’ll go, but it can’t be here. You don’t bother with a note and somehow you’ll pay him back for what he bought. You put what you had in a plastic bag and sneak down the hall. This place isn’t really big enough to sneak around and when you get to the sliding door you see his shadow reflected in it. You stop breathing hoping it’s a figment of your imagination.

“You’re not exactly quiet, princess” he says and you glare at his reflection, great now he’s mocking you.

“I’m leaving” you turn to say like a grown woman.

“A taxi is waiting for me down the road” you add.

“Where will you go?” He asks walking slowly to the end of the hall, flicking the light on making you squint.

“There’s a cheap motel in town I’ll stay at for a few nights” you say.

“Then what?” He asks walking forward some more.

“I’ll find a job somewhere, seek out some job help” you answer.

“Then what?” He repeats and you frown.

“Then I’ll eventually find somewhere to live maybe, or I’ll rent a room with someone” you shrug as he doesn’t speak, just crosses his arms across his naked chest and stares you down so you scoff.

“Stop with this silent scolding attitude I’m not a child, I’m a grown woman, you don’t want me here Logan” you say harshly feeling your own heart break with the words.

“How do you know what I want?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I haven’t taken anything you bought it’s all neatly there with the receipt, I’ll be out of your hair soon” you sigh as he comes closer.

“You didn’t answer my question” he says voice quieter but deeper as he stares you down.

“You saved me out of pity or the kindness of your heart, and I thank you I’ll never forget it and I don’t know how to repay you, but I’ve over stayed my welcome and your resources” you say hating the way your heart beats rapidly and how small you feel. Your phone vibrates with a notification your taxi is here.

“Thank you Logan, and goodbye” you turn so he can’t see your tears going to open the door till a large hand splays atop your head against the screen and stops.

“Logan” you sigh hanging your head. He snatches your phone from your hand and you frown turning.

“Logan!” You yell as he holds it to his ear.

“Hey, sorry Bub, I’m going to have to cancel the ride” he says as you stare with your mouth open.

“Yeah no, it’s a stage name funny enough, yeah I know” he laughs as you glare him down.

“Sorry buddy, have a goodnight” he hangs up eyes meeting your glare as you scoff.

“What the hell?” You say.

“You’re not going anywhere, not till you’re on your feet” he says finale.

“Logan!” You snap at him and he meets your challenge.

“I didn’t do it out of kindness or pity, I did it because I wanted you” his eyes go dark as he stares at you.

“Because I was a selfish prick” he adds clenching his jaw.

“Because I see the way you look at me like I’m a beacon and I relish it” his voice drops and you struggle to breathe.

“I want to take care of you like nobody ever has, I want you here forever in my life, I want your smile in the morning, I want your bad days and good, I want to touch you in so many ways, I want your thighs around my head, I want to treat you like a princess” his words leave you speechless and short of breath as he stared at you with intensity his chest rising and falling quickly. You falter feeling your panties wet and warm, your body reacting on its own accord as you open and close your mouth briefly.

“Oh” is all you manage though.

Next part ->