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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Words: 7,362 Pairing: Teenage!Daryl Dixon x Teenage!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: mainly pre-outbreak Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence A/N: Angsty and fluffy and angsty and fluffy! AGH! Summary: Daryl and Y/N are close growing up. Y/N knows about his bad home life and worries when Daryl doesn't show up at school one day.

Your name: submit What is this?

You were kicking a rock down the road, humming some stupid song you’d heard on the radio, when there was a familiar voice from behind you.

“Hey.”

You turned and grinned, knowing immediately who it was before you even saw him. “Daryl,” you said warmly. “Hey.”

He had his hands shrugged into the pockets of his secondhand black jeans. “What’re ya doin’?”

You laughed and shrugged. “I dunno. Wasting time. Kicking rocks.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and took him in. You could tell immediately that something was bothering him. “You okay?”

How did you always know? Even when he was trying his hardest to hide it, you always knew. “Yeah, just—” he chewed his bottom lip in that anxious habit he had. “Water got shut off again. My old man didn’t pay the bill.”

Your expression turned a bit sad and you nodded. It was mid-summer and the Georgia heat and humidity was suffocating. They never had air conditioning at the Dixon house, but no A/C and no water was a big problem. “Come on,” you said, tilting your head in the direction of your house down the street. “You want to come hang at my house for a while?”

Daryl considered your bright and open expression and then nodded. “Thanks.”

You nodded. “Of course. C’mon. My momma is workin’ the night shift so she won’t be home until God-only-knows-when. Ya can stay as long as ya like,” you said. Daryl fell into stride beside you.

“Thanks,” he said again.

“Sure.” You nudged him with your shoulder playfully. “Ya want me to help you with the Algebra homework?”

He rolled his eyes at you. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl. You’re way smarter than you think. If you’d just try—”

“Why? Ain’t like I’m gonna go off to some big fancy college like you,” he said, kicking a rock along. It skipped on the gravel and stopped in front of you.

“Ya could. If ya wanted to,” you said, hitting the rock again with the toe of your boot. It went skipping along the road in front of you again.

“How the hell would I pay for that?”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “There’s financial aid. Scholarships.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no college givin’ me a scholarship the way my grades are.”

“That’s why I said try,” you replied gently.

“Nah. Ain’t happenin’.”

You always felt so sad when Daryl talked about his future as an inevitable dead end. You knew he wanted to get away from his drunk asshole of a father and you also knew that he had plenty of reasons why he couldn’t focus on his schoolwork. Hard to focus on class when you’re wondering when your next meal or beating is coming… But you saw so much brilliance in him that he refused to see in himself. You decided to drop the subject for now and simply glanced over at him. His blue eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile. “Ya hungry?” you asked, kicking the rock down the road again.

He avoided your eyes again but nodded. “Always. That even a question?” he drawled.

You turned onto the driveway of your house and soon climbed the steps, pulling open the front door and nudging your head toward the cool interior. “We’ve got chicken pot-pie in the fridge,” you said. “Ya can have the rest of it. I swear, it’s the only thing my mom has been buyin’ lately.”

A short time later, you were flopped down watching TV while Daryl sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the front of the couch. His empty dish was sitting on the coffee table and you jumped up and grabbed it as a commercial came on. “Ya want some more?”

He looked up at you and one corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Nah. I think three helpings was enough,” he said, pushing his dirty hair out of his face. “Thanks…” he said, a little more bashfully.

You nodded. “Sure.” Daryl climbed to his feet and followed you into the kitchen. He watched you set his dishes in the sink and then fill up two glasses with ice water, putting one down in front of him. He felt your eyes on his face and glanced up to meet them. “You wanna clean up while you’re here?” you asked.

He shook his head and glanced back down at the glass in his hands. “Nah. S’alright.”

You prodded him gently. “Ya sure? It’s not a big deal. I can wash your clothes and you can shower. I was gonna do some laundry anyway. Probably have somethin’ you can wear til they’re dry. Promise it ain’t a sundress,” you joked. You glanced at the clock. “We’ve got some time to kill before tonight’s terrible monster movie comes on anyway,” you said brightly. That was your thing; watching old monster movies from the ‘50s and ‘60s. You weren’t even sure how it had started, but it was just what you did together.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He hazarded a glance back up at you. He was always so grateful for how you saw him, looked at him. Your expression never suggested anything other than open acceptance and genuine care. Finally, he nudged his nose up at you. “Alright. You win,” he said, downing the rest of his ice water quickly. “Let’s go pick out my sundress,” he said, eliciting a laugh from you.

Daryl followed you upstairs and you grabbed a clean towel for him out of the linen closet. “Hang on a sec. I’m sure there’s something in Brody’s room you can wear.” Your older brother was away at college. You returned a moment later with some clean clothes and thrust them at him. “You know where the bathroom is. Since I will puke if I eat any more pot-pie again this week, I’m gonna make popcorn. Just put your dirty clothes outside the bathroom door and I’ll throw ‘em in the wash.” You turned to head back downstairs and Daryl found himself watching you go until you disappeared.

“Hey, don’t watch the movie without me!” he called after you.

“Well then hurry up!” you called back up. Daryl smiled.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A short while later, you and Daryl were side by side on the couch. His clothes were tumbling in the dryer and now that he was clean, he realized just how dirty he had felt before. You were both munching on some popcorn from a huge bowl sitting between the two of you on the couch. Daryl always teased you about how much you made at once.

“Christ, are ya eatin’ this for your next four meals?”

You would pull a face at him. “No. Just for dinner. And knock it off or you don’t get any.”

Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the damsel in distress on screen run from some deep woods swamp creature, your knees pulled onto the couch and bent underneath you to the side. “I don’t understand this—if somethin’ is chasin’ you why would you run in a straight line, completely visible!? At least take a turn every now and again! I mean, look at all that thick brush she could disappear into!”

Daryl let out a small laugh. “That’s what your problem is? There’s a 9 foot tall, muck-man chasin’ her and that’s what ya take issue with?” he drawled.

You turned and gave him a manufactured look of annoyance and chucked a handful of popcorn at him, eliciting a gruff laugh. “You know what I mean!” you said. You heard the washer stop spinning and went to change the laundry over into the dryer, chucking one more handful of popcorn at Daryl as you got up.

“Hey!” He brushed the popped kernels off his shirt. “Ya know I’m gonna retaliate eventually and it’s gonna be much worse!” he yelled after you.

You laughed as you started the dryer. “Oh, I’m real scared! What’re you gonna do, Dixon?” You appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with your arms crossed over your chest and not looking the least bit intimidated.

“I’ll think of somethin’,” he said. “C’mon. Movie’s back on.”

You rushed back to the couch and moved the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table, sinking down in the empty space now beside Daryl.

He couldn’t stop glancing over at you and he felt suddenly fidgety, chewing on his bottom lip and practically having to sit on his hands to keep them still. Luckily, you didn’t seem to noticed, and it wasn’t too much longer before you laid down on the throw pillow at the other end of the couch, curled up with your eyes still on the screen. And not much longer after that before Daryl noticed you were asleep. The first movie was over, and some old rerun of The Blob was no playing.

Daryl noticed goosebumps on your arms and wondered if you were cold from the A/C vent blowing overhead, just in your t-shirt and shorts. He grabbed a quilt from the chair nearby and tried to cover you up without waking you.

But you stirred as soon as you felt the fabric on your arm and sat partially up, blinking awake and meeting his blue eyes, which seemed care-free for once and brighter than expected in the dim light from the television screen. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Was tryin’ not to wake ya up.”

You sat up all the way, clutching the quilt over your lap and looked up at him. “Thanks. What time is it?” Daryl glanced over at the time on the VCR.

“S’late. I should go… Let ya get some sleep,” he said.

“Oh, your clothes,” you said, climbing to your feet. You went to the laundry room and grabbed his freshly cleaned clothes from the dryer. “Go ahead and get changed and just leave those in the bathroom.”

While Daryl was changing, you went to the kitchen and filled up a water bottle with ice and cold water from the tap. He came out, looking much more like himself now that he was out of your brother’s old shorts and t-shirt. “Here,” you said, pushing the water bottle toward him. “In case you get thirsty on the walk home,” you said giving him a small smile.

He gave you a long look and seemed like he was on the edge of saying something, but he couldn’t get the words out and simply nudged his nose up in a nod at you. You always thought of the littlest things to make his life less shitty and did them for him without hesitation. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle. “I’ll give it back to ya tomorrow.”

He started toward the front door and you followed to walk him out.

He turned on the entryway rug, his hand on the handle. “Hey, tell your mom ‘thanks for the food’ when you see her in the mornin’, okay?”

You nodded. “Sure thing. You walkin’ tomorrow?” You already knew the answer. He always made the half hour walk to school, and you did it together most days.

“Duh,” he said, one corner of his mouth flicking up. “Ya comin’?”

“Duh,” you returned with a wide smile. Daryl felt his heart jump.

“Alright. See ya then. Thanks. Night.” He pushed out onto the porch and you caught the screen door as he ran down the steps.

“G’night,” you called after him. He turned and waved one last time over his shoulder and then he was gone into the still darkness outside. The cicadas seemed to grow louder as you stood there, and it was a fitting soundtrack to the immediate rise in your anxiety after Daryl disappeared. They seemed to grow so loud they were almost defeaning. You always worried about him when he went home. There was no way to know whether his dad would be passed out drunk or waiting up angry. You knew sometimes Daryl would just wait outside in the dark until he could either sneak in through a window or until he was sure his father was asleep or too drunk to move. Your heart ached. You wished more than anything that you could just fix it. He deserved so much better… You were always amazed that his heart still was so good considering all the bullshit he had been through, losing his mother and their home, his brother running off, and all the shit he was still going through. Sure, he could be angry and moody at times, but who wasn’t at your age?

Finally you sighed and closed up the house, heading upstairs to try and catch some sleep before school the next day.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were finishing packing lunch when your mom came down, still in her scrubs from the hospital. “Morning, mom,” you said. She came over and gave you a hug and left a kiss in your hair. “How was the shift?” you asked, grabbing a banana off the counter.

“Oh, just the usual. Nothing exciting. Lots of old people.” She was a nurse and always worked the night shift. She yawned and grabbed a mug and put on the tea kettle. “I’m exhausted. Mr. Jones came in again needing to be back on oxygen. Pneumonia again.”

“Oh, no…” you said, glancing at her. “Did he throw things again this time?”

She let out a wry laugh. “Of course he did! Nearly took my head off with a damn bed pan.”

“Seriously?! I hope it was empty!” you exclaimed, and you both dissolved into laughter.

“Luckily, it was. Or I would not be in such a good mood this morning… What’d you get up to yesterday? How was school?”

“School was fine. Daryl came over for a while. We watched some terrible Swamp Thing movie of course,” you said.

Your mom laughed and opened the box of tea and grabbed a tea bag. “You two. I do not understand your obsession with those monster movies from my generation,” she said.

“I dunno. They’re funny. Anyway… I gotta go. Gonna meet Daryl to walk to school.” You kissed her cheek and grabbed your things. “Love you! Get some sleep!”

You rushed to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up to walk to school, but were surprised to see that he wasn’t there. He was always there waiting before you. You dropped your bookbag, checking inside to make sure you had grabbed your lunch and the second one you always packed for him… And then you waited. And you waited. And waited… But there was no sign of him. And now you were worried. Maybe he’d gone ahead for some reason? He had never done that before. But soon you knew that if you didn’t leave, you’d be late for class, so you hastily scribbled a quick note on a sheet of notebook paper and left it under a rock at your meeting spot before heading to school.

You looked for him as you made your way through the halls to your locker, but you didn’t see his familiar silhouette anywhere. And he wasn’t in any of the classes you usually had together. At lunch you couldn’t focus on any of your friends’ conversations because you were so busy worrying about where the hell he was…

Over the course of the day, you felt sicker and sicker. You made sure to grab materials for him in all the classes you had together so he could get caught up on what he missed, and by the time the final bell rang you were determined to see him and make sure he was okay. You hastily waved goodbye to your friends and started the walk home, but instead of going straight there, you paused at the meeting spot where you usually met Daryl and saw that the note you had left that morning was still sitting underneath the rock. You collected it and shoved it hastily into your pocket. You stared up the dirt road that led into the woods and to the Dixon house. You took a deep breath in and tried to hold onto your courage as you turned up the path.

It was strange how the trees seemed to insulate from sounds of the outside, but amplify everything taking place inside the woods. You startled when a crow let out a raspy caw and took off nearby, the beating of its wings so loud in your ears that you could hear the hurried rush of the air through its feathers. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you came at last to the muddy driveway that led up to the dilapidated little trailer house. The ‘No Trespassing’ sign burned red in your peripheral vision as you carefully picked your way between the puddles and deep mud, trying not to sink your shoes into it up to your ankles.

You gulped and hesitated at the front step, but you forced in a breath and knocked.

Your heart was racing and you could feel your pulse in your fingers and toes as heavy bootsteps and cursing sounded from inside the house. The inside door was yanked open and an imposing man stood there, separated from you only by the thin screen door.

He glared at you, his lips almost curling into a sneer immediately. “Didn’t you see the goddamn sign?! Get the hell outta here! I don’t want whatever the fuck you’re selling!” he growled. He was tall and lean, but looked powerful and you gulped, suddenly thinking that maybe this wasn’t a great plan…

“I’m—” you had to clear your throat. Your voice came out quiet and somewhat strangled the first time. “I’m not selling anything, sir. I’m—I’m a friend of your son. Is he here?”

Mr. Dixon let out a scoff and never quit staring at you like he could snap at any second and come rushing through that screen door. “My boy ain’t got no friends. He’s too damn worthless. You got the wrong house,” he said, turning to slam the door already.

You weren’t sure where you got the courage from but you quickly shouted to stop him. “I don’t have the wrong house, Mr. Dixon! I’m—I’m a friend of Daryl’s. Please. Is he here? I just have some, um, school work for him…”

He stared at you again for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. They were sharp. “He ain’t here.” You were sweating with nerves under his gaze. “You goddamn women are only good for one thing, and I know he ain’t man enough to be getting any tail, so I don’t care why you say you’re here, but it ain’t no good reason. Now get the fuck off my property!”

You felt your face burn, some combination of anger, humiliation, and shock at being talked to that way by a grown man. You decided to try one last time. “Are you sure he’s not—”

Daryl’s father kicked the screen door hard and it flew open violently. You jumped back and let out a small scream of surprise and fear. He stepped out onto the stairs, his hands clenched into fists, and you could see that he was wavering a little on his feet, drunk, but also shaking with rage. “I got a goddamn shotgun sitting right inside here and I won’t be waitin’ much longer to use it unless you get the hell outta here right now!”

You quickly turned tail and ran, not caring at all that you were sloshing through muddy puddles up to your shins on your way back onto the dirt road and away from the house. You ran all the way back to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up before collapsing onto the grass. You shut your eyes and pressed your hands over your face for a moment. “Shit… shit.” It suddenly occurred to you that maybe going there had been entirely the wrong move. What if going to his house and asking about him got him in trouble? What if you had just endangered him more than he already had been? You felt tears burning in your eyes and blinked them away, popping back up onto your feet, which were squishing in your mud-soaked socks and shoes, and you trudged the rest of the way home.

It had felt like the longest evening of your life. You’d drifted around your house, hoping Daryl would come bounding up the porch steps at any moment, ready with some sarcastic comment or that quick twitch of a smile. But he didn’t. You knew your mom usually took a break around 8 pm, and you called the hospital, needing to hear her voice.

“Hi, honey. Is everything okay?”

You anxiously bounced your knee, feeling like you were about to cry again.

“…honey? Are you okay?” Now there was worry in your mom’s voice too.

“I’m—I’m okay. It’s just—Daryl wasn’t at school today… We had planned to walk together and he never showed up, and then—he wasn’t in any of our classes…” you trailed off. Your mom knew Daryl’s home life was bad, but you’d never told her how bad. Daryl had made it clear plenty of times that he didn’t want you telling anyone—not your mom, not the school counselors, not his teachers, not the cops, no one.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You twirled the phone cord anxiously around your finger, winding and unwinding. “Well, maybe he was just sick today,” your mom offered.

“Mom, Daryl doesn’t get sick.” You chewed your bottom lip. “When Daryl gets ‘sick’ it’s because—because stuff at home has gone really wrong.”

Her silence on the other end of the line was heavy until she finally sighed. “I wondered. I mean, I’m a nurse for Pete’s sake. It’s not like I didn’t see the signs. Oh, honey… and how could anyone ever lay a hand on that boy? He’s got a heart of gold.” Her voice was low and sad.

“I know… What—what do we do?”

“I suppose, unfortunately, we just have to wait and see if he’s back tomorrow. It’s only one day… If he’s not at school tomorrow, you tell me and I will deal with it,” she said. “Try not to worry yourself too much, hun. I’m sure he’s fine.” But her tone was half-hearted and you were unconvinced. Your stomach twisted as you thought about more endless hours of waiting ahead. “I gotta get back to work, sugar. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night at work.”

“Love you,” she cooed.

“Love you too,” you said. You hung up and your house had never felt emptier.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come, when you thought you heard something on your window. Your first thought was that a cicada or other insect had flown into the window. It was a small plink sound against the glass. But when it happened again, you shot upright in bed. And then it came again. You rushed over to the light switch and flipped it on and then went to the window and pulled back the curtains.

You could barely see a familiar silhouette by the dim glow of the porch light. You hastily pushed the window open. “Daryl?”

“Hey.”

“Just—just hang on! I’ll come let you in!” You raced downstairs and clicked on the hall light, unlocking and throwing the front door wide open. He was standing on the steps and you could see that one of his eyes was almost swollen shut and was surrounded by angry bruising. “Oh my God.” You felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. “Daryl…” you stepped back to let him in.

He strode in past you, ducking his head a bit. “Yeah. He’s usually pretty careful about hiding ‘em. Guess his hand slipped on that one…”

You closed the front door and locked it again, turning to take him in. Daryl watched your eyebrows knit together and form a deep worry line in your forehead. The next second you had thrown your arms around him in a hug, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “I was so worried about you!”

You heard him let out a strained exhale, a wince really, even as his hands landed on your back and he hugged you back. You pulled back suddenly and Daryl’s hands slipped onto the bare skin of your upper arms. “You’re hurt worse?” you asked him, looking up into his bruised face.

His hands dropped from you and you both lamented the break in contact. Daryl ducked his head again. “M’fine. What the hell were you thinkin’ comin’ to my damn house? Are ya crazy?” But you could see that he was almost smiling as he said it.

“I was thinking that I needed to know you were okay,” you said, turning and leading the way into the kitchen, flicking the light on as you went. “You heard that?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding. “I was—I couldn’t get to ya.”

You nodded, your expression sad and overwhelmed with worry. “Your dad is…”

“A bastard,” he said, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table. “Ya. I know. M’sorry ya had to go through that.”

You looked at him with consternation. “Are you kidding? You’re apologizing to me? Daryl…” You went to the freezer and grabbed out a bag of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a clean dish towel. “Here. Put this on your face,” you said.

Daryl mumbled a thank you and pressed the makeshift cold pack over his eye. He was wearing a black t-shirt and as you stood beside him you noticed some dark spots on the material. You gulped. “Daryl…”

“Hmm?” he glanced over at you and saw that your eyes were fixed on his back. His stomach twisted. “S’nothin’,” he said.

You gave him a skeptical and deeply concerned glance. “Let me see,” you said gently.

He dropped the ice pack from his eye again and hesitated for a moment, nervously licking his lips and bouncing his knee. He trusted you, more than anyone, but this was still hard… Finally, he set down the ice pack and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it off over his head, wincing as he moved.

When the light cotton was pulled clear, you saw that his entire torso, his ribs, his sides, his back, all a cruel dark purple with shades of black and blue. Across his back were raised lashes, some open and bleeding, the reason for the dark spots you had seen on his t-shirt. He sat there with his eyes turned down and his shoulders slumped forward.

You couldn’t help it. The tears just started streaming out as you looked at what had been done to him.

“Hey,” he said, turning toward you a little, hearing your hitched breathing. His blue eyes landed on your face, took in your desperate expression. “S’alright,” he drawled softly.

Those words only made the tears pour out faster. “I should be saying that to you—” you managed. “But I don’t even know if that’s true. Daryl, you can’t keep livin’ there with him. He could kill you one of these times.”

He gulped. He knew you were right. Of course he did… “Where the hell am I supposed to go? Run off and find Merle? Go into the system? Because you and I both know neither of those are gonna work.”

You hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Here. You can come here. I can talk to my mom—”

“Nah. Nah, ya’ve already done enough for me. Ya do enough. Christ, Y/N, ya pack me a damn lunch every day. I eat dinner here more nights than not.”

“It’d be fine! My mom loves you! And—and so do I,” you said quietly. You felt nervous flutters in your stomach. You’d never told him that before, but it was true.

Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face again and he gulped.

“You’d be safe here. And taken care of the way ya deserve to be,” you said.

Part of him wanted that more than anything. He wanted to agree and escape from the shit life he was living in that shit house with his shit father. But the idea of being a burden, and he truly believed that’s all he would be, the sense that he wasn’t worth it was so engrained in him that he rebelled against that other part of him that wanted to reach out for help, for escape. He avoided your glassy eyes again and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, with no small amount of effort.

You felt like your heart was breaking. “Why not?”

He wouldn’t look at you. You just wanted him to look up at you. You wanted to see his blue eyes and convince him. But he wouldn’t. “I just can’t…”

“Daryl—”

“No! It—it ain’t your job to save me, alright? And I ain’t—I ain’t your burden! Just leave it alone.”

“You’re not a burden.” You tried to swallow the tightness in your throat but it didn’t work. You sniffled and wiped the tears from your cheeks again. You’d pushed him enough. You let it drop. “Is he gonna know you’re gone?”

Daryl replaced the ice pack on his swollen and bruised eye. “Nah. He’s on his next bender now. He’ll be so drunk he can’t see straight for at least the next few days.”

You nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you patched up and somethin’ to eat,” you said quietly. You filled a glass with ice water and grabbed the lunch you had packed for him that day from the fridge, setting them down in front of him at the table. You grabbed his bloodstained t-shirt and murmured a soft “I’ll be right back.”

After throwing in some more laundry, his shirt with it, you climbed the stairs and retrieved the First Aid kit from under the sink in your bathroom. You paused for a moment, leaning heavily on your hands, gripping the edge of the basin so hard your knuckles were white. You glanced up at your pale and somewhat wide-eyed expression and wiped a few more stray tears away, steeling yourself. You needed to just be strong for him. You knew he was trying his hardest to hold himself together and you going to pieces wouldn’t help anything. You’d spoken your piece and there was nothing else to do at that moment besides care for him.

You came down with a pile of supplies and dumped them on the kitchen table next to him.

Daryl seemed frozen, still as stone, holding the ice pack to his eye and occasionally drinking for the glass of water you’d given him. You grabbed a washcloth and wet it with some alcohol. Daryl twitched a little as your fingers landed lightly on his bare shoulder.

You withdrew for a moment after he startled. “Sorry,” you said, replacing your hand gently. “This is gonna sting,” you said.

“Can’t be worse than it is now,” he said quietly.

You could tell his wounds hadn’t been tended to at all and it took you some time to carefully clean the dried blood from them, dabbing gently at the raw skin and cuts. You worked in silence and Daryl nervously bounced his leg and spun the water glass on the ring of condensation it had shed onto the table.

After you were satisfied that they were clean, you grabbed some ointment and spread it over the entire length of each as gently as you could. Your stomach twisted as you stepped back and took in the whole view of his wounds and bruises. “Alright. Done.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Here. Take some of these,” you said, putting a bottle of Advil in front of him. “I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain.”

You moved around in front of him and sank down on a chair, sighing. Your brow was still knit and Daryl read the worry still on your face. “M’alright,” he said.

You shook your head. “No. You’re not.” You paused and grabbed the makeshift ice pack, replacing it in the freezer before nudging your head toward the staircase in the hall. “C’mon. You’re stayin’ here with me tonight.”

Daryl’s brow quirked down and he briefly chewed his bottom lip. “…Why?”

“Because it’s safe. And I just can’t let you go back there. And you need real sleep and we both know that you won’t get that if you’re under the same roof as him.”

Daryl considered your determined expression and finally nodded. “Alright.” He stood up, wrapping an arm around his ribs as they ached when he moved, and followed you up the stairs. You flicked the lights off as you went.

The door to your bedroom was standing open and Daryl hesitated at the threshold as you pulled the blankets back on your bed. You tossed an extra pillow down next the one already at the head of the bed.

Daryl gulped, nerves at the thought of staying with you so close all night suddenly overwhelming the aches and pains running through him. “I’ll take the floor,” he drawled.

You shot him a quizzical look. “You’re not taking the floor,” you said. “You’re covered in bruises. Come on. You take the other side. Just shut the door behind you.”

After shifting his weight a bit nervously for a moment, he finally crossed the threshold and shut the door softly behind him. You settled down in bed, heaving a sigh as your head hit the pillow. Daryl gingerly laid down on the other side, facing in toward you. His eyes met yours as he settled in, wincing a little as he moved his arm up under the pillow. You were close together, your faces merely six inches apart and Daryl could see your eyes flitting over his face.

“Ya sure this is alright?” he drawled quietly. “Yer mom…”

You shrugged. “She won’t even know. It’s okay.”

Daryl licked his lips absently and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Daryl looked puzzled.

“It’s not fair,” you went on. “That someone as good as you has this happening to them.”

Daryl gulped nervously again, your words kindling a rush of heat in his chest which seemed to spill into his face. “Ain’t yer fault.”

You nodded, looking a bit sad, but beautiful in the warm glow of the single lamp on your nightstand. You turned and clicked it off, and maybe it was the darkness that gave you the courage to, but you reached over and found Daryl’s hand with yours in the dark and slipped yours beneath it, pressing your palm to his.

Daryl felt his stomach flip with surprise but he thrilled at the grounding touch from you. For once stopping himself from overthinking it, he laced his fingers with yours, and soon both of you were asleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Some years later

“Don’t fucking move.”

Daryl froze, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth.

“Put your hands up where I can see them. Away from the bow.” The voice belonged to a woman and despite the tense and potentially dangerous situation he now found himself in, Daryl felt his stomach flip, seemingly responding to the voice peculiarly.

“Stand up.” Daryl obeyed and stood up slowly, in disbelief that he hadn’t heard whoever the hell this was approaching in the almost silent woods. That left him feeling particularly curious and a little uneasy. He didn’t like that anyone was able to sneak up on him… “Now turn around. Slowly.”

Again, Daryl complied, his hands still up, turning slowly to face toward the woman holding him at gunpoint.

But neither him nor you expected the person in front of you and you felt a tug somewhere behind your navel and the muzzle of your gun dropped involuntarily just as your mouth fell partially open. You felt like the air was ripped out of your lungs as you took in the familiar face in front of you. “What the hell?” The words fell from your lips without you even knowing it. But you would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. You lowered your gun the rest of the way. “D—Daryl?”

He finally dropped his hands his eyes narrowed and intense. “Are ya gonna shoot me?” he drawled. His voice was deep and gruff and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin. One corner of his mouth flicked up in the same way it always had back when you were kids.

You gulped, your hands still on your pistol. “Do I need to?”

He let out a gruff laugh. “Nah. I dun think so.”

You holstered your gun, still paralyzed, your boots seemingly rooted into the soil.

Daryl was the first one to move. He rushed over to you and hugged you almost desperately, but you were still in such a state of shock that by the time you moved to return it he was already breaking away. Your eyes were searching as you looked at him and he just peered back at you with that classic Daryl Dixon stare.

“S’real fuckin’ good to see you, Y/N,” he said. He bent and picked up his crossbow, swinging it over himself and onto his back in a fluid and well-practiced movement. He tilted his head at you. “Why the hell did ya stick me up, hmm?” he asked.

You snapped yourself out of your reverie, actually shaking your head slightly. “Uhh—My camp is near here. I don’t like strangers,” you said absently, still unable to trust your eyes that this man standing in front of you was the boy from your past. “Daryl—” You weren’t even sure where to start but you suddenly felt a swell of anger. “Daryl, what the fuck?” you demanded.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

“I—I thought—you just—you left! You were just gone!” Before you knew it there were tears spilling out onto your cheeks and your anger was rising. “What the fuck!?” you yelled at him. You rushed toward him and pushed him hard in the chest. He simply took it and staggered backwards. “Why did you do that?! You didn’t even say goodbye to me! You didn’t tell me you were leaving, you didn’t tell me anything! You just—you were just gone! Do you know what I thought? Do you have any idea?!” You shoved him again and still he just took it and stepped back to regain his balance. “I thought maybe you were dead!” The tears were pouring out more quickly onto your cheeks and you reached out to shove him back again, but this time he gently caught your arm and held it. His eyes were soft and you crumbled underneath them. “I thought maybe you were dead. I thought your dad—” you gasped in a heaving breath.

“M’sorry,” he said. You stared at him, fighting emotion. “M’sorry,” he said again. He gently tugged you closer to him and you allowed it. “M’so sorry.”

You fell into him and felt his arms wrap around you as you squeezed your eyes shut. “M’sorry, Y/N,” he whispered to you. His hands flattened out on your back and smoothed over it and he held you until were able to stop yourself from crying. You straightened up, hastily wiping the tear streaks off your cheeks.

You laughed a little wryly at yourself. “This is so stupid. I’m—I’m crying over something that happened over a decade ago,” you murmured.

“S’cuz it still feels like it just happened yesterday. Ain’t stupid,” he said.

You took him in for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. It does.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You brought Daryl back to your camp and you both did you best to catch the other up one what life had been like since those hazy summer high school days. Most of it didn’t seem to matter anymore now that the world was what it was—all nightmarish and broken. But there was one question you had to ask him as you sat by the campfire that night.

“If you could do it over,” you hesitated, “would you do the same thing?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, a questioning noise.

“Would you just leave, like you did? Or would you do it differently?”

Daryl considered you quietly for a long moment. He had always thought you were beautiful and that hadn’t changed. He had always known you were kind and smart and caring and funny… and that hadn’t changed either, despite the hell around you now. And he still felt like there was a string, a golden thread that led from his heart to yours, tying the two of you together, and that still felt connected. It had never been cut. Not after all the time and all the distance. “I ask myself that just about every day. Think about ya every day,” he said, feeling a bit bashful under the gaze of your brilliant eyes. He turned back to stare at the crackling fire in front of you both. “I dunno if it woulda turned out any better or worse, or even any different but—I do regret not havin’ ya around all this time. Maybe my biggest regret in life.” He glanced up at you again and marveled at your thoughtful, open, and slightly sad expression.

You nodded subtly. “Mine too.”

“The reason I didn’t come tell ya I was leavin’—” he hesitated, biting his bottom lip anxiously. “Is because I knew ya’d try to stop me. I knew ya’d ask me to stay… and if—if ya asked me that, there would be no way I could go.”

You gave him a sad smile and had to blink away the glistening moisture in your eyes again. You cleared your throat and nodded. “I’m still mad at you,” you joked softly.

He let out a small laugh. “Thas fair…” Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “So, yer really alone out here?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Well, I’ve got a group. Good people. Family. If ya wanted to, ya can come back with me. Yer—yer family too. I promise they’re all good people,” he drawled. He watched you carefully, anxiously trying to read your reaction.

You nodded slowly. “I trust you,” you said.

He cleared his throat, feeling a swell of happiness at your response. “I won’t leave ya again,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Ya better not.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #teen!daryl #teenage!daryl dixon #twd pre-outbreak

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 9:

As it turns out, being told there’s an imminent threat on your life, does not lend itself to a relaxing day at work. No, what it lends itself to, is a day of looking over your shoulder, of flipping the lights on in every room- of creeping quietly around furniture, trying to get the jump on whoever is hiding behind it.

Except, there’s never anyone behind it. There’s never anyone behind anything, and all you have to show for it is a heart beating far too fast. All you have is a ribcage, strung together with dental floss, little bits of string pulled much too far and much too tight. What’s left is a person one surprise from a panic attack, and one loud noise away from a mental breakdown.

It’s the weirdest anxiety you’ve ever felt; a dripping, acrid, paranoia lining your bones with electricity and your muscles with shock. The strangest part of all though? The way you’re counting the minutes. Watching the seconds pass by with each moment, trying to be patient until you could see Bakugou of all people.

You’re not sure when you started to associate him with safety, but it’s almost a lost cause at this point. His attitude was pretty much irrelevant to the issue, and even if he wasn’t very soft or reassuring, you know he’d rather die than let you get taken. His ego just wouldn’t allow it, and for some odd reason, you think that’s the most comforting part of all.

You walk out the backdoor, dragging your feet and hardly even jumping in surprise when you see him. Bakugou is leaning against the back wall of the alley, disinterest coloring his face. He’s in his hero gear, but thankfully he’s got his mask in his hands- being unable to fully see his eyes made him much harder to read.

“No bruises, scrapes? Blood?” You ask, looking him up and down twice over. You can’t help yourself as you near, eyes squinting as you study him closely. “No injuries, right?”

“No- ‘m fuckin’ fine. Stop fussing, woman.”

You see the red on his cheeks, just barely for a second, before he’s quickly sliding the mask onto his face. So much for seeing his eyes, then- apparently he wanted to keep you guessing all night. Not that you wouldn’t have been anyway.

"I'm not- actually, yeah, sorry. Maybe I was fussing a little bit." You laugh under you breath, taking a step back. "It's not my fault though, alright? Usually I only see you when you’re exhausted or bleeding out."

"Yeah, because bein' around ya is fuckin' torture, leech. Why the hell would I see you if I didn't have to?"

You turn, balking at him. Under the glow of the streetlamp, something sly and mischievous lines his smile. You watch him glow for a moment, yellow streetlamp luminescence casting his pale skin in shades of glimmering gold. He’s almost unrecognizable like that, unable to help himself when he shakes his head.

“I told you, leech.” He laughs. “You’re too easy.”

“No- you’re an asshole. You know that? You have to know that, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“And, what, you’re proud of that?”

He just shrugs, kicking off the wall and brushing past you. His shoulder knocks into yours, and you feel a little unsteady at the impact. Bakugou laughs. Then he picks up speed, walking briskly towards the end of the alley, looking behind him to make sure that you’re following.

“That’s not an answer, you know.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Not even a little bit of an answer.”

“Who the fuck said I gotta answer all your questions, hah?” He replies, petulance coloring his words. He turns back to look at you, snapping his fingers to urge you on. “Now c’mon. Faster. Pick up the goddamn pace.”

“Jeez, you’re pushy tonight.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer you, just leading you out of the alley, and into the street. He slows suddenly, falling behind you with watchful eyes scanning every shadow. There’s no one out that night, there almost never is at that time, but Bakugou still seems keen on keeping up his vigilance. Turning back to look at him, you’re almost shocked by the concentration on his face.

It’s a look you’re not especially used to seeing on him. You’d never realized how much time he spent just messing with you, but the foreignness of his expression made that apparent. In that moment, all you can wonder is why villians even bothered in the first place- it was obvious they weren’t going to get away with anything under his watch. Not at least if Bakugou’s fists had something to say about it.

“You look pretty guard-dog-like back there.” You comment with a coy smile. “Super scary.”

“Shut up.”

“Mhm, that’s what you always say isn’t it.”

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You say lightly, spinning to look at him for a moment. He’s confused, head tilted slightly to the side. He looks like a dog all over again and you have to hold back a giggle. “Just means you’re short with me all the time. Well- when you’re not being mean that is.”

“You pickin’ a fight?”

“No. No. I’m not.” You laugh. “I almost never am, or at least not intentionally. You always think so though.”

Bakugou speeds up then, his strides matching yours. He’s close then, way closer to you than he’d usually walk. You’re not particularly curious about it, but you’re sure that if you reached out, just barely extended your fingers, you’d brush right up against those giant gauntlets of his. And probably get those same fingers blasted right off- but that’s neither here nor there.

“You look tired.” He gruffs, changing the subject suddenly. He’s looking away, eyes trained down every dark alley you pass. “You somehow sleep worse than me or somethin’?”

“No. Just lots of people coming in and out today. Lots of patients to see.”

“Mhm.” He nods. “Any weird injuries?”

“No? Why?”

He just looks at you then, eyes squinting slightly.

“Oh. Those villians you can’t tell me about. I get it.” You say, and Bakugou nods. “But no. Not that I saw- sorry. Strange influx of elderly people, though. But that’s probably just a coincidence. Probably unrelated.”

“It is.”

“Huh? How would you know?”

“Just do.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. “You suck at explaining things, you know- just like, the worst conversationalist.”

He shrugs again, and at the movement you feel the edge of his gauntlets against your arm. The metal is cold, even through the thin material of your jacket, and you shiver.

“Damn, you really that fuckin’ scared of ‘em?” He scoffs, looking at you a little weirdly. “Chill the hell out, leech. ‘m not after you.”

“No- it’s not- I’m not scared of them. Well, I am, but not of you. Or them.” You rub at your arms, trying to avoid accidentally elbowing him as he walks next to you. “The metal was just cold. Didn’t expect it, is all.”

He nods, grunting something under his breath. Then he’s side-eyeing you. For way too long to be normal, even for ordinary person standards. Hardly another breath passes before he smirks, jostling his shoulders and pressing the gauntlet directly into your arm. It hits against your jacket, flooding ice through the material and into your skin.

“It’s cold!” You squeal in surprise, almost stumbling as you pull away. You take another step to the side, just to increase the distance between you and him- just to be safe. “I literally just said that! You’re a dick.”

Bakugou just smothers his laugh in his shoulder.

“No! Don’t laugh- what you think this is funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, trying to get you with the gauntlets once more. You flinch away, which just makes him laugh more. “I do actually.”

“It’s not! It’s cold out, you asshole! Don’t make it any worse!”

He just laughs at you, eyes crinkling around the edges. Bakugou doesn’t laugh much, not around you at least, but now you’re sort of wishing he did. His eyes look a lot brighter when he laughs. Happier.

“Okay, okay, chill out already.” He smirks, shushing you like a child. “Won’t happen again.”

“You sound like you’re lying.”

“Nah. ‘m not.”

“I don’t trust you.” You counter, eyeing him with suspicion. “Not at all.”

He just shrugs, like your answer doesn’t surprise him, nor does it make any sort of difference. You suppose that’s about right. Bakugou pretty much only cared about pushing your buttons- making you feel comfortable wasn’t even a thought in his mind.

“You’re such a baby.” He comments, eyes scanning down another dark alley. “Seriously. ‘s not even that fuckin’ cold outside.”

“Says you.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re absolutely not.” Drawing your jacket tighter, you fight the shiver that threatens to crawl up your spine. “You know, for a guy who gets so mad about me “picking fights” all the time, you sure do like to argue a lot. You sure you’re not actually the one picking fights?”

“I don’t gotta pick ‘em, I just finish them.”

There’s no way- there’s no way in hell a fully grown hero, a pro hero just opened his mouth and said that to you. It’s inconcievable, or, it should be, but then you look at Bakugou and the absolute sincerity of his expression.

“You’re a barbarian.” You can’t help but laugh, pinching the bridge of your nose with faux annoyance. “Seriously. I just gagged on all the testosterone in that sentence.”

“So? ‘s not my fuckin’ problem.”

“It is. It definitely is.” You tell him, hardly restraining your urge to knock him right off the curb.

From where he is, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and closest to the road, all it would take is a little nudge- he’s walking so very close to the edge. But knowing him, Bakugou would probably take you with him. So you refrain, changing the subject instead.

“So, you see any bad guys yet?”

“Bad guys?” He snorts, eyeing you like you’re stupid. “No. I haven’t seen any villains, yet.”

“Good, just checking. I don’t actually know what I’d do if you did.”

“You don’t do shit. You stay the hell out of it.”

“Okay, but what if you-”

“No. You run the other direction and go fuckin’ hide. That’s what you do.” He orders, seriousness lining his features. “Don’t go tryin’ anything. You’ll only get in the way, leech.”

A part of you bristles all over at that- at his insistence that you’d be nothing but useless weight in a fight. It makes you uncomfortable because as it stands, he’s right. You’d never be able to hold your own, much less defeat anyone.

You felt weak. Vulnerable.

“Don’t be a goddamn baby. I can see you panicking.” He says, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk. “I told you- ‘m not plannin’ to let any of those fuckers get you. ‘s a hypothetical, so don’t go cryin’ over shit that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“It’s not that.”

“Fuck is it then?”

“It’s just- I was thinking, you know, about what I’d do in a fight.” You start, rubbing at your elbow mindlessly. “And you’re right. I’d be entirely useless. I can’t hurt anybody. I don’t think I ever would, even if I had the skills to.”

You hardly see it from the corner of your vision, but Bakugou scrunches his nose. Your words must’ve upset him because then he’s huffing like a bull, curling his fingers closed into a fist.

“Don’t say it like it’s a fuckin’ bad thing. Don’t be an idiot.” He mutters lowly, voice pinched and tight. There’s a flush on his cheeks, just barely visible in the dark. “People getting fuckin’ hurt is never a good thing.”

“No, it’s not. I guess you’re right. But, still, I guess what I’m saying is I wish I was a little less soft, you know? Stronger.”

He cuts his eyes toward you, something guarded lining them. You can hardly tell, and you wish he’d take his mask off, but Bakugou almost looks..... offended?

“Bein’ soft doesn’t mean you’re fuckin’ weak.”

“You’ve literally called me weak before!”

“Yeah- when you were playin’ all fuckin’ nice when you didn’t mean it.” He flares his nostrils. “That’s weak.”

“Oh, so you’re saying- actually, no, I have no idea what point you’re trying to get at right now.”

“Jesus, you’re stupid.” He mutters on his breath. “I’m saying, don’t do shit just because you think you have to. That’s stupid. That’s weak.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t fight anybody?”

“Do you want to fight anybody?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why the hell are we even fuckin’ talking about this?” He asks, simple and plain like it never even mattered to him in the first place. “If you don’t want to fight then don’t fight. It’s that fuckin’ easy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.” He says, finality lacing his tone. “Besides, it’s not gonna fuckin’ matter anyway. I’ll skin ‘em before they even get anywhere near you.”

Bakugou seems to realize his words- and the weight behind them at the same time you do. Where you’re blushing and looking away, he’s straightening in place next to you. His spine goes ramrod, feet stuttering like the pavement is shooting electric shocks through his heels.

“That’s- I think that’s the only sort of nice thing you’ve ever said to me.” You utter out, entirely shocked. Then you’re slapping a hand against your mouth, breathing a gasp out between the gaps in your fingers. “That’s- that’s the only nice thing I get? A threat against somebody else? That’s ridiculous!”

You can’t help the giggle that tumbles out of your mouth then, something small and tiny quickly growing louder. It makes you feel light- weightless on the street, like the pavement below you is bolstering you higher with each step. When you look over, Bakugou’s not laughing, but he’s smiling, something pinched and shy as he looks back at you. A he stares at you, blinking slowly, tipping his head to the side like he doesn’t understand.

“It’s- I’m sorry.” You laugh, biting down on your lip. “It’s just so funny! You being nice isn’t even you being nice- it’s just you being mean to somebody else for once!”

“If this is what you’re like when I’m fuckin’ nice, then I’ll never be nice to you again.”

“Don’t grumble.” You smile, trying to cover your smile with an errant palm. “Even if I’m laughing, I’m not necassarily laughing at you, you know? I guess what I”m saying is that it helps with the panic- to know that somebody capable is looking out for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I bet.”

His tone leaves something sour, sarcasm and cynicism left behind on his breath. You look over at him, but his eyes are trained forward, shooting between every dark crevice and shadow. He’s relentless, shoulders constantly drawn forward, stalking and prowling like he’s just waiting for somebody to challenge him.

It makes you wonder who’s looking out for him. If anybody even is- or, more specifically, if he is letting anyone.

“Hey, Bakugou?” You ask suddenly.

“What?”

“I appreciate it, you know. This. You walking me home.” You find yourself unable to hold his intense gaze any longer. Eyes trained at the ground, you continue. “I know you didn’t have to, and even if it’s not for me, it still makes me feel a lot better. Less scared. So thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t really even react other than straightening a little beside you. It makes you want to take the words back, to fluster, make excuses maybe- but you don’t. You steel yourself and you don’t apologize because you meant it. Meant every word.

“Jesus, you really are soft, huh.” He mutters quietly, voice hardly carrying through the cold air. “Really fuckin’ soft.”

“Yeah. I am.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he does walk a little closer. From where he is, right up next to you, Bakugou looks a lot different. It might just be the low light, but you could’ve sworn he was all soft angles then; all smooth skin covering a gently sloping nose, delicate lips curled up into the smallest of smiles. You think he’s beautiful then- like somehow, all of his blistering strength had gone molten instead of igniting.

There’s not much left to say, and you’re out of jokes, so the rest of your walk is spent in silence. It’s a weird kind of quiet, something that sits heavy in your chest, warm and fluid- almost like it’s lulling you to sleep. There’s still a little anxiety rolling in your stomach, but that’s softened now too. You’re sure Bakugou would laugh at you if you told him, but he really did make you feel safe. If only in an belligerent and begrudging sort of way on his end.

Another few minutes pass and you’re at the entrance to your apartment building. He hovers close behind you as you swipe your keycard, eyes watching the same way they’d done all night. He really is diligent when he wants to be apparently.

“Are you coming in?” You ask, lingering in the door way.

“Nah. I’m on patrol for a few more hours.”

“Oh- yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

“You scared or somethin’?” He asks, squinting at you. “Go inside already.”

You curl your fingers a little tighter around the handle, shifting your weight onto your other foot. It frustrates you a little- how he seems to see right through you when you can hardly ever tell what he’s thinking.

“No- well, yes, but I get it, you’ve got other priorities.” You say, gently. “Go, I’ll be fine. Don’t let my weird paranoia hold you up or anything.”

He just nods, adjusting the mask on his face as he turns away. Bakugou only makes it a few steps, just barely secluded into the shadows beyond the complex lights, before he’s turning around. Hand itching at the back of his neck, he plants his feet, regarding you with familiar red eyes.

“It’s not weird.” He says. “I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid while I’m gone.”

Then he’s turning around before you can say anything, his dark costume melting into the shadows. The air somehow feels colder when he leaves, empty almost, and you rush into your apartment complex as a result.

When you’re finally unlocking your door, and quickly relocking it behind you, the exhaustion nearly bulldozes you. You’d been so careful that day, not using your quirk just like Bakugou had advised, but in the end you figured it didn’t really matter- you were scared, absolutely terrified about some villian it didn’t seem like you could even prepare for. That would make anyone tired, weird quirk or not.

Collapsing on your couch with a sigh, you can’t help yourself as sleep quickly takes over.

--/--

You’re jolted awake by the sound of knocking, and, even in your sleep-drunk haze, you know who it is. You’d never known anyone else in your entire life who knocked as loudly as he did. It was like miniature bombs were going off against the glass.

Bakugou is standing outside in normal clothes, thankfully shucked of both his hero costume and mask. He’s clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, tapping his foot impatiently as you approach the door. You wonder how he’s not cold, how in the world he’s not freezing his ass off out there. You’d ask, but the exhaustion is still creeping in, piloting your body with hardly a quarter of as much energy as you would normally have.

“You look tired.” He says, taking in your appearance when you slide open the door. He lets himself in, brushing past you when you apparently take too long. “You fall asleep or somethin’?”

“Yeah- yeah, I did, sorry.” You yawn, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes. “Couldn’t help it. Was tired.”

“Oh.”

Bakugou seems a little stilted, hardly even looking at you, and when he does, it’s with a flush on his face. You just shrug his weird behavior off, not having the energy to ask nor the care to even remotely get to the bottom of it. As it was- you were dead tired. His weird mood wasn’t going to trump that apparently.

“You all good?” You yawn again into your hand, then stretch your arms high above your head. “No injuries or anything?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good. That’s good.” You trail off, turning away from him to gather your purse and coat off of the couch. “How was it?”

“I didn’t find them yet. If that’s what you’re asking.”

“No- well, that’s sorta- but not really.” You’re fluffing the pillows for him before you realize, gathering a blanket from where it was tucked away too. “I meant- like, everything go alright? Just general checking up stuff.”

“Why- you decide to care now or somethin’?”

“Don’t be difficult. I care. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care to know the answer.”

“Fine.” He grumbles, cheeks going pink once more. “It was boring. Nobody was out tryin’ to pull anything.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear, actually.”

You continue making up his pseduo bed, spreading the blanket over your cushions and folding it back neatly. It’s almost subconscious, the way your hands move even through your sleep-fog. Bakugou just watches, looking at you a little strangely. His red eyes flicker from you, to the pseduo-bed you’d made up for him, and then back again several times over.

On the couch, there’s the normal blanket, but this time you’d also sacrificed one of your real pillows too. You figured that if he was going to go through the hassle of making sure you were safe, then the least you could do was spare him a good pillow. Still, the gesture seemed to stump him, and Bakugou just stared blankly at it. Then his eyes flicker back to you, something unsure in them.

You’re not used to seeing him like that. Apprehensive. Almost timid.

“Hope it’s alright.” You tell him, passing him to flick off the bright overhead light. “Thought it was about time for an upgrade. Take it as a show of my appreciation.”

“Whatever.” He flusters a bit, but shakes it off quickly. “Glad you finally realized how shitty your throw pillows are.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“You really that tired?”

“Yeah. Sorry. ‘s pretty hard for me to function after I’ve just woken up. ‘s really embarrassing.”

“No, it’s-”

Bakugou seems to suddenly seize in place half way through his words, spinning the other direction like someone was puppetting his strings. You really start to wonder what had gotten into him in the few hours since you’d seen him last.

“Well, if that’s all,” You say, hiding another large yawn behind your gloves. Then you’re pulling at the material, freeing one of your hands. “Then I’d really like to go back to sleep. So, c’mon, hand out already, yeah?”

He nods tightly, his whole face red. He won’t look at you, eyes hardly flickering up to yours for a second before he forces them back down. Another loud yawn escapes you, and that only seems to worsen whatever problem he’s having, because then Bakugou is dragging a hand down his face- stretching and pulling and tugging at heated skin like he’s in physical pain. Still, he holds his hand out anyways, refusing to meet your eyes.

That same subtle warmth floods you again, solid and sure where his hand meets yours. It’s muted now, a little softer, but still there. You’re half asleep, barely functioning, and you absentmindedly rub the back of his hand with you thumb, once, twice, and then pat when you let go.

He just looks at you, absolutely bewildered, and honestly- you’re not sure you have an explanation. There is no explanation. All there is, is your bone-deep exhaustion and the apparently uncharacteristic things it makes you do. Like shushing him when he starts to speak, which only seems to stun him more. Then you’re waving him off, beginning to walk towards your bedroom without hardly letting him get a reaction in edgewise. You’d apologize, but honestly, you’re sure you’d fall asleep half-way through the words.

“Goodnight.” You say absentmindedly, head lolling over your shoulder to look back at him. “Have a good sleep or whatever. See you tomorrow.”

Then you’re stumbling down the hall, just barely remembering to flick off the overhead lights. You hit the bed, flopping down boneless and sated.

You’re sure it must take all over 10 seconds until you’re out again. Maybe even less than that.

hope u enjoy lovelies :)))

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bakugou fic #bakugou series #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine

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missjanjie · 4 years ago

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I Just Need a Lover (So Gimme What I Want) | Rosnali

Title: I Just Need a Lover (So Gimme What I Want) Summary: Rosé is in Chicago to do a long-awaited show with Denali, but their reunion stretches far beyond doing a few numbers in a club. Word Count: 1608 Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

read on ao3 | ko-fi

Doing a show together felt inevitable for Rosé and Denali. As soon as they were able to, they jumped on the opportunity. And Rosé was just excited to be in Chicago too – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been.

Rosé hadn’t even opened his suitcase when he heard a knock on the door, but he dropped it instantly to rush to open it. “That was quick. You miss me that bad?” he smirked.

Denali scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course I missed you, Rosie,” and despite the faux-annoyed expression, he threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“I missed you too,” he assured, inhaling deeply as he rubbed Denali’s back, the scent of his cologne reigniting the memory of every other time they’d gotten the chance to be close, those times too few and far between for their liking. Just because they had gotten used to the eight hundred mile distance doesn’t mean it ever became any more bearable.

And it wasn’t as though they had been completely alone, their respective open relationships had never changed. But the connection they had formed without so much as a proper kiss left the two of them yearning for each other. Playing it up for laughs in front of the fans, to their surprise, only exacerbated it.

“Everyone’s excited for the show tonight,” Denali said as they settled onto the hotel room bed. “I really hyped you up, so you better not disappoint,” he jokingly warned.

“I only ever disappoint my extended family, don’t you worry,” he chuckled.

------

The energy of the crows was electric, it was addictive. Denali, Rosé, and everyone else in the show fed off of it and it kept them going. It gave them the engagement they had been missing when they were confined to their bedrooms and online communication. It carried on after their set as well, fans buying them drink after drink, allowing them to let loose and have fun.

That was how they ended up on the dance floor as soon as they were out of drag, pressed together with their bodies moving to the thumping beat of the music. It started innocently enough – flirtatious bumping and grinding with anything they might’ve said drowned out by a techno remix of ‘Rain On Me’. But as the night went on and their inhibitions lowered.

“You keep moving your ass like that and I’m gonna end up taking you back to my hotel,” Rosé warned into Denali’s ear, his hands on his waist, holding onto him even though he’d never made the slightest attempt at moving away.

Denali responded by pointedly pressing his ass against Rosé’s crotch, his back flushed against his chest. “Rosie, if you haven’t figured out that’s what I’ve been aiming for, I think we’ve got a bigger issue here,” he giggled.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

In the Uber ride back to the hotel, Rosé felt something he didn’t expect in his tipsy, horny haze – relief. Of course he wanted Denali, people had been calling him out on that for months. But he didn’t want any of the conversations that came with it – how he felt emotionally, what it could mean for their respective relationships and one between them, all of his worries and insecurities. After the shots and the dance-based foreplay, Rosé just wanted Denali in his bed without having to think twice about it.

Denali, on the other hand, had far less on his mind. He’d talked a big game about lusting after his friend plenty of times, the follow-through felt overdue. He didn’t waste any time either – his hand was on Rosé’s thigh in the car, he hung on him in the elevator, there wasn’t a moment between the club and returning to the hotel room that Denali wasn’t making his clingy, needy intentions clear.

Rosé had Denali pinned against the door the second it closed. “How are you so fucking worked up when I’ve barely even touched you?” he smirked.

“I’m worked up because you’ve barely touched me,” Denali replied without missing a beat, then grabbed onto Rosé’s shirt and kissed him fiercely. “I want your fucking Scottish cock already.” He couldn’t resist saying that in an accent, to Rosé’s chagrin.

“Please don’t say that while I’m fucking you,” he gently requested before reconnecting their lips in another heated kiss.

Denali laughed into the kiss as they stumbled back and fell onto the bed. “I just had to get it out of my system,” he assured as he tugged his shirt off and, in a moment of impatience, got Rosé’s off as well.

It wasn’t lost on Rosé, who couldn’t fight off a smirk. “Damn, Dee, if I’d known you wanted me to fuck you that badly, we could’ve worked something out sooner,” he teased as he undid the fly of Denali’s jeans and tugged them down.

“Don’t be smug, I already told you I want you, come on,” he huffed. “Me waiting since we first met is irrelevant.”

But if that was supposed to make Rosé any less smug, it failed miserably. “Since the porkchop lounge? Fuck, I had so many missed opportunities to shoot my shot,” he chuckled as he took his own jeans off. “Guess we have some lost time to make up for, don’t we?”

“You better make it worth my while,” Denali jokingly snapped, then finally got them both fully undressed. “I didn’t spend months talking about your dick for it to disappoint me.”

Rosé snorted. “No pressure, huh?” He looked around and rifled through his bag and grabbed a condom and lube. “Luckily, I’ve never had any complaints.” Before Denali could get another quip in, Rosé kissed him hard, one hand gripping into his hair and the other pushing him onto his back. He picked the bottle of lube up from the bed and slicked up two fingers. “Spread ‘em,” he directed, and when Denali’s legs were propped apart, he gripped his thigh with one hand as the opposite one eased in a finger, then another.

Denali’s eyes fluttered shut and his head pushed into the mound of pillows behind him. He whimpered and whined, hips bucking towards Rosé’s fingers to urge him on.

But Rosé didn’t rush, he wanted to make sure he lived up to however Denali had hyped him up in his mind. So, he was diligent in his prepping, only taking his fingers out when he felt confident that it’d been enough. He picked up the condom and tore the wrapper open with his teeth. After rolling it down his length, he used a bit more lube to slick up his cock, then guided himself into Denali until he bottomed out.

A breathy moan ripped through Denali, his back arched up and his body tensed, only to relax right after. His eyes opened and bore right into Rosé’s. “Don’t you even think about holding back with me.”

“Oh, I know you like it rough,” he winked. Without any further hesitation, he began thrusting, slow for only a moment before he built up to a hard and fast pace.

The sound of skin slapping together was only matched by Denali’s moans. He tried to writhe in tandem with Rosé’s thrusts, but Rosé had a bruisingly firm grip, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip. He was pinned to the bed, unable to do anything but take his cock pounding into him. It was rough and intense and got his head spinning – exactly how he liked it. It was addictive, Denali was convinced he could spend the entire night getting railed by Rosé and never tap out.

Rosé gazed down at Denali, moving the hand from his shoulder to wrap around his throat with just the right amount of pressure. “Look at you,” he purred, “taking my cock just as well as I thought you would.” His thrusting became increasingly erratic after a while and he realized he wouldn’t last much longer. So, he moved his hand from Denali’s neck and trailed it down his torso, then wrapped it around his cock, stroking it in time with his movements.

“Fuck!” Denali gasped out in pleasure, thrusting into Rosé’s hand. It didn’t take long until his body began trembling. He could barely croak out a warning before he came, then went limp under him.

“Good boy,” Rosé cooed as he jerked Denali through his orgasm. He picked him back up, his hand splayed in between Denali’s shoulder blades and the other arm wrapped around his waist. He grunted and groaned until his hips sputtered to a halt as he rode out his own orgasm. “Fuck…” he panted softly, gently setting Denali back down before pulling out and throwing out the condom. He grabbed a tissue to clean up the remaining mess, then laid down next to him.

Denali cuddled up to Rosé without hesitation, resting his head on his chest. “Mm, that was perfect, Rosie,” he cooed sweetly.

“Lived up to your expectations?” Rosé chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“At the risk of inflating your ego, it exceeded them,” he retorted, then let out a content sigh. “How long are you here for?”

Rosé let out a tired laugh. “Jesus, you already planning for round two? But I’m here all weekend, don’t worry.”

Denali looked up at him with a smirk. “I’m not worried, but you should be. ‘Cause I’m gonna wear you out, and that is both a threat and a promise.”

And Rosé just held Denali tighter and leaned down, pressing a gentle, tender kiss to his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#rosnali #rosenali #rpdr rpf #rpdr fanfiction #yall better not let this flop after all of this lmao

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Unexpected

Summary: The reader and Jensen discover their odds of having children are low and look into adoption. When they end up fostering a teenager though, they realize what they thought they wanted might be right in front of them...

Square: Jensen Ackles

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 11,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, conception problems, family angst

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo

_________

“Uh, Jensen?” you asked, turning his attention away from the TV. He’d just gotten home from the airport for the weekend, a quick dinner like he usually had, and now he was curled up on the couch, probably wondering why you hadn’t joined him yet for movie night. “Can you turn off the TV? I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Alright,” he said, hitting the remote, giving you his full attention. You didn’t join him though, simply stood on the edge of the room so you could leave if you wanted to. “What’s going on, honey?”

“I went to the doctor earlier in the week,” you said, Jensen lifting his chin. “I didn’t want to worry you. I’m okay.”

“Too late for that,” he said quietly, his face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“I got some lab results back today. I thought this is something important to tell you because we both talked about wanting kids back when we were dating and…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I can’t…”

“You can’t have kids?” he asked gently, giving you a smile. You nodded, barely looking at him. “S’okay if you can’t. That’s okay. We could always adopt if you still wanted them.”

“It’s...possible I could but my odds are low...like 1 in a million low,” you said, rubbing your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” he asked, standing up and wrapping you up in a hug, kissing your forehead. “As long as you are healthy, that’s all that matters. I know with the show ending soon we were thinking of trying more seriously and we still can...but I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t ever happen, Y/N. You’re my family and we can still have kids if we want, even if we didn’t make ‘em. I didn’t fall in love with you for kids.”

“I know. It’s just...I really wanted them with you. You’d make really cute kids I bet,” you said, closing your eyes. “God, I’m not crying over this anymore. I’m not.”

“We can try and maybe tomorrow we look into adoption and how it all works,” he said.

“Just like that, you’re okay with adoption?” you asked.

“Are you?”

“Yeah I wasn’t...I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested though,” you said.

“Yeah, I am. Tonight let’s fix you up though,” he said, grabbing the blanket off the couch. “Let’s watch your favorite movie in bed and go cuddle, hm?”

“Okay,” you said, taking another deep breath. “Maybe just the cuddle?”

“Yeah,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s go take care of you.”

Three Months Later

You were three weeks into Jensen being done with work for good, the end of April when you got a phone call that your case worker wanted an in person meeting. Jensen practically sped over there, both of you trying to stay calm. You weren’t expecting anything so fast. He held your hand as you walked inside and were shown to the back where Chad’s office was.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ackles,” he said, holding out a hand to each of you. “Wow, you two might have beat the record for new parents down here.”

“We’re a little excited,” said Jensen, Chad chuckling as he shut the door behind you.

“We like to see that,” he said, taking a seat and sliding over a file but putting a hand on top of it. “So to forewarn you, this isn’t an infant like you were looking for. We’re still looking, we know that’s what you’re looking to adopt. But we’re in a bit of a bind and you are registered fosters, even if you only did that to help facilitate the adoption process when we do find an infant and give you more time with them.”

“So this is not...sorry, what is this?” you asked.

“Sixteen year old girl needs placement today. There was an incident at her foster home last evening. All other children there were relocated but we’re pretty maxed out right now and she needs a place to go. You’re legally qualified to take care of her if you choose. It’ll be a week tops before we can get her in another home. Kid goes to school, comes home, eats, sleeps...she’s a teenager so it’s not as heavily as involved as a small child. We just really need someone to take her for a short while. It looks really good and helps you get priority when infants pop up too which is why I was offering,” he said.

“Sixteen?” asked Jensen, looking at you. “Y/N’s not that all that much older than this girl, no offense sweetie.”

“No, no. He’s right...I’m still in my twenties, Chad. How am I supposed to be a foster mom to this girl? Jensen’s not even that much older. He’s only thirty five,” you said.

“We know. It’s more like babysitting,” he said, looking between the two of you. “You’d really be doing us a favor…”

“Can we have a minute?” asked Jensen.

“Of course,” said Chad, leaving the office. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Do we want to do this?” asked Jensen.

“Well I feel like I’ll feel like a piece of shit if we don’t,” you said. “It’s some kid.”

“You hadn’t even hit puberty when she was born,” he said.

“Yes I did...barely. That’s not the point. So I’m a little young. We got some comments when we first started dating because of our ages,” you said.

“I am not that much older than you. We were both adults when we met. You were 22, I was 29 and it was all perfectly normal,” he said, closing his eyes. “It’s not...I just don’t know how she’ll listen to us if we’re not that old is what I’m getting at.”

“Listen to what? He said she goes to school, we feed her, have her stay in the guest room and she’s gone in a week,” you said.

“Alright. I guess it’s stupid to worry about that when she’s not there long. I guess we do this then? First test run?” he said.

“Yeah, I think it might even be fun.”

You felt like you’d been hit by a train when you and Jensen left Chad’s office. He told you they’d be dropping Ellie off at 4 that afternoon after she got out of school. Except Ellie had been in the system since she was six, had lived in more houses than you and Jensen combined, and apparently had big issues with strangers.

“This is going to go well,” you mumbled when you got in the car.

“Why don’t we go to the store, make up one of those surprise baskets you would make up for me to come home to sometimes? I’m sure she’s never gotten that before,” he said. “What do teenage girls like?”

“I don’t know. One Direction?” you asked.

“Does her file strike you as a One Direction fan?” Jensen deadpanned. “Is that even a thing anymore?”

“We got a few hours. Let’s just try to make everything as nice as we can for her, alright?”

“Okay,” said Jensen when you both heard the sound of car doors out front a few hours later. “Here goes nothing, right?”

“We got this. Just ease into it,” you said, the doorbell ringing a minute later. You both hopped up from the couch and ran over to the front door, taking a deep breath when you answered. “Hi! I’m Y/N and this is Jensen.”

“Hi,” said Ellie quietly, glancing at Chad quickly before looking away. She had a backpack and suitcase but that seemed like that’s all there was, Chad forcing a smile as they stepped inside. She looked around, raising her eyebrows. You weren’t sure what kinds of homes she’d lived in before but you imagined this was probably going to be one of the nicer ones.

“So Ellie, like I said in the car, Jensen and Y/N are new to fostering so if you have questions or they have questions, feel free to give me a call, anytime,” he said.

“We thought we’d show you around and then have some dinner?” asked Jensen.

“That sounds like a plan. I got to run, another kid in the car, but I’ll call and check in, see how things went,” said Chad, ducking out of there and out of the house.

“Okay…” you said, staring at the door, shutting it and spinning around with a smile. “So you want to see your room?”

“Whatever you want,” she said dryly. You nodded and waved her to follow you, showing her upstairs to one of the guest rooms, not getting any reaction at the basket on the nightstand. “S’nice.”

“Is there anything you want for dinner? Or do you want to go out to eat?” asked Jensen.

“Out to eat?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, Friday night’s normally pizza around these parts but first night and all, maybe we step it up. Barbecue, Italian, you name it,” said Jensen. She narrowed her eyes for a moment and looked you both up and down.

“You two really have never done this before,” she said. “This is temporary so don’t go out of your way. Seriously.”

“We’ll get take out,” you said with a smile. “Let you settle in. We’ll be right down in the kitchen if you need us.”

She nodded and you left with Jensen, getting a shrug out of him.

“That went good, right?” he asked.

“I guess. Give her some her space. We’ll get some pizza, wings, fries. We got salad. Maybe tomorrow we take her out?” you said.

“Yeah. She’s probably tired from school all day anyways. We’ll have a quiet night home instead.”

Your quiet night was a little too quiet though. Ellie didn’t seem to say much, just sat at the counter quietly eating her dinner with you and Jensen. You nudged him and he hummed, Ellie glancing over.

“So Ellie, what school do you go to?” he asked.

“One downtown,” she shrugged. “Only been two weeks.”

“Is that where your old home was?” he asked. “Downtown?”

“Yeah…” she said.

“I’m sure one of us can drive you and pick you up,” you said. She nodded and started to pick at her crust, darting her eyes back and forth between you. “So you’re a sophomore?”

She nodded again, Jensen bumping your foot with his own.

“Is there anything you need for your room or want us to pick up for you?” you asked.

“No,” she said. “I know you two want a baby. Can we just not do the awkward conversations for the next week? Give me the wifi-password and I’ll just hang out in my room until I’m gone.”

“Well…” said Jensen, pursing his lips. “I don’t know how you know that but yes we are looking to adopt an infant. But we’re your foster parents until someone tells us otherwise so you aren’t just going to stay hidden away in that bedroom.”

“I’m sorry. Did you not get the memo that my last foster dad made some inappropriate comments towards me, I don’t know, last night? Sorry if I don’t want to hang out with you two,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Yes we were made aware,” you said, Jensen’s face a bit blank. “We want you to know that things like that won’t happen here. If you need something, let us know.”

“May I be excused to my room? Please?” she asked. You nodded, Jensen closing his eyes when she left.

“Ah, so she hates us,” said Jensen.

“How happy do you think you’d be if you were her?” you said.

“Not very,” he said, sliding off his stool and starting to clean up. “I guess we just don’t push her, let her talk at her own pace.”

“I think that’s the best plan for now.”

“What?” you said, Jensen opening his mouth at Chad when he stopped by Monday afternoon. “Permanent? You said-”

“I know. I know. But there’s really nowhere open downtown right now and no one is dying to take the teenager. I mean, you guys know. There’s-”

“She can stay,” said Jensen, your face in a scowl at what Chad had said.

“So we need to get her into a new school, right?” you asked.

“Yeah. Whatever your local one is she’ll end up in for the rest of the school year,” he said.

“Well I mean, we moved here so we could send the kids to the academy right-”

“Whoa,” said Chad, holding up his hands. “You want to send a foster to private school, it’s your choice but I wouldn’t waste the money for like two weeks left of the school year.”

“Just send us what we need to do since Ellie will be staying with us longer,” said Jensen. Chad hummed and popped into the house to talk to Ellie, exiting a minute later and taking off. “I never really liked that guy but he’s a fucking dick.”

“You think? She’s a kid, not a number. We are so sending her. She’s got good grades, she should go to a good school,” you said. “And what was that crack about teenagers?”

“I have no idea,” he said.

“Statistically, the older you are, odds of adoption drop off,” said Ellie. You both spun around, surprised to find her right behind you under the covered front porch. “Yeah, I don’t like Chad either. He’s kind of a dumbass.”

“Well that’s something we can all agree on,” said Jensen. Ellie gave a barely there smile but it was there. “So...I guess you’re going to a new school in the morning.”

“S’okay. I don’t really like my school right now anyways,” she said.

“Want to go shopping?” you asked. “Get some new clothes?”

“She loathes shopping,” said Jensen.

“I do too,” said Ellie.

“Perfect. You two go shopping quick and I will get the school stuff sorted and I’ll meet you guys out for dinner?” he asked.

“Sounds like a plan, babe,” you said. “Come on, Ellie. Let’s go grab some stuff.”

“Uh, Y/N?” asked Ellie as you dropped off the bags at the car and climbed inside, a few minutes drive from the restaurant Jensen said he’d meet you at.

“Yeah, El?” you asked.

“You spent like a lot of money on me,” she said.

“Well the jeans weren’t on sale but they last for years so it’s always okay to pay a bit more for those. I think the most expensive thing were your boots and we got those for sixty bucks. Trust me, I’m not one to buy stuff. We made out good,” you said.

“It’s cause I’m going to private school isn’t it,” she said. “You want me to look good.”

“Ellie,” you said, looking over at her in the passenger seat. “You’re going to be with us long term. We were told a few days and that’s not the case anymore so now that we got a better idea of the plan, we got a little bit better of an idea how to take care of you.”

“You guys really don’t get how the foster parents thing works yet, do you,” she said, laughing as she leaned against the window.

“I think taking care of the kid is pretty self explanatory,” you said. She hummed and closed her eyes, opening them when you got to the restaurant. “Order whatever you want. Appetizer, dessert. Brownie ice cream pie here is awesome. You won't regret it.”

“I haven’t been out to eat in a restaurant since I was a kid, like six I mean,” she said.

“You never go out with friends?” you asked.

“I don’t have friends,” she said quietly.

“Well maybe you can make some at your new school,” you said softly. “If you want, I can order for you if you’re nervous.”

“I can do it. I’ve seen movies,” she said.

“Ellie, this may sound like a strange question but...how much of life have you learned from TV shows and things like that?” you asked.

“A lot,” she said, swallowing as she looked at you. “I...I know who Jensen is. I mean...I used to watch Supernatural. Sorry. I was...I thought it’d be weird if I said something.”

“No. Not at all,” you said with a smile, Ellie shaking her head.

“I just like Dean, you know? Bad stuff happens and he’s...it’s just a TV show. Please don’t tell Jensen I told you that,” she said.

“Okay. But Ellie? Yeah, it’s just a TV show but you know, I found out I basically got no chance in hell in having kids and I watched the heck out of Supernatural that week. So what if it’s a show? It helps me sometimes. That’s one of the reasons I love it,” you said.

“Don’t tell him,” she said.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s get some food.”

“Wanna try some?” asked Jensen, tilting up his plate towards Ellie. She shook her head, poking at her ziti. “S’really good…”

“No thank you,” she said quietly.

“Ellie. Can I ask you a question and you can feel free to tell me to shove it if you it bothers you but...why don’t you like me?” he asked softly. “It’s okay if you don’t. I noticed you don’t look at me though and if I’m doing something that bothers you, I want to try and fix that for you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at you.

“No, Ellie. You’re not in trouble,” you said.

“I want you to be comfortable, Ellie and feel okay. That’s my job,” said Jensen, giving her a smile. “I think I need a little help with it is all.”

“Can we go home?” she asked you. You glanced at Jensen and he gave a small nod, Ellie missing how far his face had fallen before she had a chance to turn back.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, order some dessert to go and meet you girls home, okay?” he said. You hummed, Ellie sliding out of her seat and already heading for the the door.

“She watches the show. Maybe she just feels a little shy or nervous around you,” you said. He blinked slowly at you and shook his head, playing with the leftover food on his plate. “Jens.”

“She’s afraid of me. She’s a little afraid of you too but…” he sighed. “Just take her home. School’s all settled. We’ll talk after she goes to bed, alright?”

“Okay,” you said, standing up and giving him a quick kiss. “It’ll get better.”

“I hope so.”

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you said, dropping off her freshly washed clothes in her room later on, Ellie sitting up in bed and writing in a notebook.

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a half smile. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said.

“Jensen won’t look at me anymore. I upset him,” she said. “And you.”

“Jensen...is confused. To be honest, we both are. We’ve never been parents before. We don’t know what we’re doing. He’s afraid of scaring you. We aren’t mad, sweetie,” you said. She pouted but nodded, opening her mouth to speak before sealing her lips together. “You can tell me anything, Jens too.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you both. I’ll be better about it, I promise,” she said. You closed your eyes, the right words to reassure her not coming to your mouth. You leaned over and gave her a hug instead, Ellie tensing up but eventually relaxing into it.

“You don’t scare us, Ellie. We want you to feel at home,” you said, leaning back. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Can I be alone now?”

“Sure,” you said, giving her a smile. “Come get us if you need anything.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you said as you moved away. She returned a half smile and you left the room, hanging your head when you pulled her door shut. You trudged downstairs and spotted the porch light on but no Jensen. You stepped out onto it, the lights across the edge of the yard lit up, a dark shadow sitting over on the small deck by the pool. You hummed and jogged down the steps, walking over to him and sitting up on the railing beside him. “S’been awhile since you’ve been all the way out here at night.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“I’m normally pretty good with kids. Ellie, I can’t...I don’t know how to help her,” he said.

“Me either,” you said.

“I think there’s a very obvious solution, at least for us,” he said. “Maybe we stop trying to help her and start...we start treating her like she’s our kid. That’s the whole freaking point of this, isn’t it?”

“I’m not even old enough to be her mother,” you said. “Okay, I am barely old enough and it’s still too young.”

“I know. I know,” he said.

“We were already funny though. What’s wrong with adding a little more,” you said with a shrug.

“Apparently the world had never heard of two people that are different ages loving each other before us,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Shit, your sister is ten years younger than her husband. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“We got so much shit when we went public with it,” you said.

“It ain’t nobody’s business but ours,” he said. “I mean, I couldn’t blame you when you succumbed to my charms.”

“You were more nervous asking me out than a seventh grader during his first slow dance,” you laughed.

“Shut up,” he said, pulling his lips into a smile. “I tried so hard not to like you too.”

“I tried so hard not to like you. Poor Jared was stuck in the middle,” you said.

“To this day I am shocked he didn’t once slip up and say something to one of us that we were both asking for advice about how to deal with the other one,” he said.

“I think he knew how important it was to us both,” you said. Jensen took one of your hands in his own, giving it a squeeze. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?”

“You remember how we talked about kids when we were dating?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I said one, you said three. We settled at two.”

“I would understand if…” you trailed off.

“That is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said to me and you didn’t even finish saying it,” he said.

“Jens. I’m serious.”

“So am I. If we get lucky, then awesome. If we don’t, we’ll still have kids. I don’t want you to worry about me leaving. Ever,” he said.

You nodded and he ran his thumb over the back of your hand. You were quiet, Jensen still beside you.

“I love you,” he said. “You’re already a really great mom.”

“Am not,” you said.

“At least she talks to you,” he said.

“Her last foster dad got pretty inappropriate with her. I think once she gets to know you, she’ll love you,” you said.

“I hope so,” he said.

“Come on. We should head on up. We got a big day tomorrow.”

“Good morning,” said Jensen when Ellie came downstairs. She had her backpack on and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, giving him a quick nod. “Breakfast?”

“No thank you,” she said.

“Well take a granola bar for your backpack at least,” he said. She stared at him a moment before going to the pantry and taking one from the box. “Excited for your first day?”

“I’m not really a morning person,” she said, glancing at you. “Can we go now?”

“In a minute. Let me finish my coffee,” you said, yawning and rubbing your eyes. “I will be so excited when you’re on summer vacation and we can all sleep in.”

“Hey,” said Jensen with a big smile, leaning over the counter. “I just had a great idea. How about we all take a few days and then this weekend, we can plan out where we want to go on vacation this summer. I don’t have anything that starts filming until the fall. Maybe we go away for a week or two.”

“Jensen’s doing a comedy in September,” you said, chugging down your drink. “But you’ll be back in school by then.”

She blinked slowly, glancing down and petting the dog. Jensen shrugged before she turned back, the both of you chugging down your coffee’s.

“So. Ellie. You do any sort of-”

“I don’t do sports. I don’t do clubs,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, turning away. “Y/N, I’m heading to the brewery for a few.”

“Alright. Drive safe,” you said. He hummed and grabbed his keys and a baseball cap from the counter, quickly heading out to the garage. “El. I’m not a morning person either. But-”

“Can we go to school now?” she asked.

“I know you have better manners than that,” you said.

“Can we go?”

“Alright,” you said, Ellie sighing and hopping off the stool and out the front door without a second glance. “Okay. This is going great so far.”

“Hi guys,” you said when Jensen got home with Ellie. “How was…”

She took off right through the kitchen and up to her room, a door closing behind her.

“Do you remember being like that when we were her age?” you asked.

“16? I suppose so. Not to the same degree though,” he said, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “She didn’t say a word the whole way home.”

“I have no idea how to get her to talk to us,” you said.

“Same,” he said, shutting his eyes and resting his head on the counter. “What are we gonna do once she’s done with school in two weeks?”

“I don’t know,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “We can just try our best, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up and letting you give him a hug. “That’s all we can do.”

Saturday

“Hey, Ellie,” you said, poking your head in her room, Ellie with her nose in a book. “Jens and I were going to go swimming if you wanted to join us. I got plenty of swimsuits in my closet you can borrow.”

“No thanks,” she said, flipping a page. You tilted your head back, crossing your arms.

“Well...maybe you can read your book outside, enjoy the fresh air,” you said.

“It’s like ninety degrees out,” she said.

“Well the backyard has a nice hammock in the shade you could read on. Or you can hang out on the back porch or deck. We get a nice breeze sometimes,” you said.

“If I go outside will you leave me alone?” she asked.

“Ellie. We know that this is hard but you don’t have to stay in your room all the time,” you said. She glanced over at you, rolling her eyes before she took her book with her and walked past you. You rolled your own as you followed her outside. She went over to the hammock, plopping down and opening her book again.

“At least you got her outside,” said Jensen when you walked over, standing in the shallow end of the pool.

“Barely,” you said, slipping into the water and dunking your head under. You kept your eyes closed as you popped back up, Jensen pecking a kiss to your lips. “Thanks.”

“Want to have a race?” he asked.

“You’re on.”

“Never have I ever…” said Jensen an hour later, floating around in the deep end on his back, glancing over to where you were resting your arms and chin on a pool mat. “Never have I ever...had sex outside.”

“First off, that’s a lie. Second, seriously? Ellie’s right over there,” you said with a laugh.

“She went inside like five minutes ago,” he teased. You lifted your head up and sure enough the swing was empty. “And since when have I done it outside?”

“The dinner. I mean, it was the night of the infamous condom story,” you teased.

“Oh,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “But does that count? I mean, that was a car.”

“For you, it counts,” you said, floating over and kissing his cheek. “Never have I ever made out with you in the pool.”

“Oh, you must not remember the con and the incident with the hotel pool,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you, quickly moving away. “Hey Ellie.”

You spun around in the water, Ellie standing there by the edge of the pool in your bright blue bikini.

“Hey. You want to swim with us?” you asked.

“I don’t know how, to swim,” she said, biting her bottom lip as she looked away.

“Well it’s really easy,” said Jensen, swimming over towards the shallow end. “Take the steps in. The shallow part is plenty short enough for you to stand in.”

She slowly made her way over and stepped down into the water, Jensen giving her a smile.

“It’s alright,” he said with a smile as he walked over next to her. “Y/N and I are both really good swimmers. So when you’re in the water, you want to move your arms like this. You don’t have to do it fast, just even. Same thing with your legs and if you get tired, swim over to the edge or the shallow end or grab a float.”

She nodded and got down in the water, practicing moving her arms like he was showing her.

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” he said. “When you’re comfortable, we can walk out a little deeper.”

She nodded again and took a step towards the other end, pausing once she got to only her head and shoulders above the water.

“We’re both right here,” he said softly. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Why don’t you try right there and Jensen can grab you if you don’t get it,” you said, swimming right in front of her. She took a moment but pulled up her legs, wide eyed for a second as she started to sink down, flailing her arms and forgetting everything she’d just been shown.

“Alright,” said Jensen, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back up, Ellie taking a deep breath when she popped back up. “You’re okay.”

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, shoving away from him, forgetting to put her feet back down and slipping under again. You both pulled her up quickly, Ellie splashing all over the place as you moved her back to the shallow end and Jensen moved away.

“Put your feet down, El,” you said. She relaxed the second she felt the ground, closing her eyes. “You’re alright.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, glancing at Jensen.

“It’s okay. Learning to be comfortable in the water isn’t something that happens overnight,” he said.

“Can we try again?” she asked quietly.

“Sure. Just remember to kick and move your arms,” he said. She stopped at the slope again, Jensen carefully wrapping an arm around her waist again. She picked her feet up and with him holding her, she didn’t go anywhere and had enough time to get her bearings and start moving her limbs.

She glanced down at herself after a moment, Jensen letting go briefly.

“I’m swimming!” she said with a smile, Jensen breaking out into the biggest one you’d seen on his face in weeks.

“Yeah you are, El,” he said, grabbing her waist again when she started to tuck her arms in. “Spread your arms out. It makes it a lot easier.”

“Like this?” she asked, Jensen nodding and letting go again.

“Just like that. You’re getting the hang of it,” he said. “Want to try moving?”

She nodded and he swam out a bit, Ellie mimicking the move, following him all the way to the end of the pool and back.

“That’s so much easier than I thought,” she said when she was back in the shallow end, kicking back out to the deep end, Jensen quickly following after.

“Hold up there Michael Phelps,” he teased as she started to swim around. “Come on. Let’s teach you how to tread water a bit better first.”

You smiled as you climbed out of the pool, drying off for a minute and grabbing your phone, snapping a few pictures of them in the water. You hopped into the house for a minute and grabbed some lunch to bring outside, Jensen showing her how to hold her breath properly from the looks of it when you returned.

“You guys want some lunch?” you asked, heading over to the deck with the food and drinks. Jensen made sure Ellie got out first and she grabbed your towel, wrapping it around herself as she walked over to the table. “So I take it you like swimming.”

“Yeah,” she said, taking a sandwich from the plate, Jensen smiling as he grabbed one himself and took a seat up on the deck railing.

“So,” he said, taking a bite. “We were gonna figure out where we wanted to go on our vacation this summer, weren’t we?”

“Anywhere you’ve ever wanted to go, Ellie?” you asked. She shook her head and took a bite, Jensen cocking his head at her.

“Seriously? Come on. I bet there’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go,” he said.

“Not really,” she said quietly.

“Have you ever been on vacation?” you asked. She shrugged, taking another bite.

“I don’t think so. I don’t really remember,” she said.

“Well we are going on a kickass family vacation,” said Jensen with a big smile. “How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” she said, looking at you. “Wherever you guys want to go is fine with me.”

“Alright. Y/N and I will come up with something special then,” said Jensen. “So you make any friends at school this week?”

“No,” she said, stealing a chip from the bag. “I’m used to it. There’s only like a week left this year anyways.”

“Well I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier once you’ve been around a little. There’s actually a boy that lives just down the street that goes to your school,” you said.

“I’m 16. I don’t need a playdate,” she said.

“That kid is kind of a dumbass, Y/N,” said Jensen, Ellie giggling to herself. “It’s true.”

“Is he the one that was going around with the garbage cans…” you said, Jensen humming. “Oh. Forget that kid. He’s got the maturity of a four year old.”

“I’ll be sure to stay away then,” she said.

“Well you can hang out with us,” said Jensen, turning his head as a dark cloud blocked out the sun. “Alright ladies. I say we head inside before we get poured on, hm?”

“That went well,” you said in your bathroom an hour later, drying off your hair as Jensen got dressed, rain hitting the windows outside. “You were really good with her.”

“She didn’t like me touching her,” he said, tugging his henley down. “Her last foster dad said some pretty bad stuff.”

“She hasn’t had a real family since she was six, Jens. She knows you’re a good guy. I mean, she let you teach her to swim. She’s learning it’s okay to trust you. That’s way more than we could ask for,” you said.

“I know,” he said, walking behind you, taking your dryer out of your hands, moving it over your head. “It’s gonna storm the rest of the weekend from the looks of it.”

“Want to have a movie day?” you asked, Jensen untangling a few of the strands in the back.

“I was thinking maybe we could bake some cookies,” he said, drying your hair off for you. “With El.”

“Jensen,” you said, looking at him in the mirror. “You’re totally nailing this dad thing.”

“Thank you for getting her to come outside today,” he said, kissing the top of your head and turning off the dryer. He grabbed one of your hair ties from the counter and scooped up your hair, throwing it up in a messy bun. “You are so attractive.”

“You know I was totally going to wear that henley myself,” you said, tilting your head back at him with a smile.

“I know that, woman. You’ve been stealing my clothes for years,” he laughed, walking out of the bathroom and across the short hall to the closet, one of his shirts and a pair of your sweatpants being tossed into the bathroom.

“Thank you, cutie!” you called back. He hummed and you caught a glimpse of him in a pair of his own sweats as he left the room. You got dressed and padded out to the kitchen, Jensen working on pulling out some ingredients for the brownie mix you had, the radio going in the background.

You were over at the fridge when you both saw Ellie come downstairs, a quick smile on her face.

“You like brownies?” you asked.

“Duh,” she said.

“Good. Mix that up for me,” said Jensen as he preheat the oven. You smiled and pulled out some wraps and cheese, Jensen peering over your shoulder. “Oh, Y/N’s making her quesadillas. This is the best day ever.”

“You like spicy stuff?” you asked Ellie. She shrugged while she mixed up the brownie batter. “Well I’ll make some not too spicy too.”

“I love lazy days,” said Jensen, taking the bowl from Ellie when she finished and pouring it in a pan.

“Isn’t your show all done?” she asked. “Like, can’t you be lazy all the time?”

“Yeah, been done about two months now,” he said. “I’m learning to slow down a bit still. We were always go go go around here which is kind of funny cause we really like days where we can just hang out and relax. I’m still going to act of course but I’m not staying away that many months a year from now on. I was never super comfortable leaving Y/N alone like that and now with you home, I’m definitely not leaving my girls home alone that much.”

“He’s a sap,” you said, bumping his hip. “Jensen is like the world’s biggest strongest fluffiest cuddly teddy bear who is a massively talented dork.”

“But I learned it from watching you,” he teased, bumping you back.

“Like I said. Dork,” you said. “No idea why the internet fawns over you.”

“No idea?” he asked with a smile, putting his hands on his hips.

“A little idea,” you teased. “Shoo. I need space to make my snacks. Why don’t you pick out something for us to watch?”

“Yes mam,” he said, whistling as he headed off and up to the TV room.

“He is something else,” you said with a laugh, the buzzer beeping off for the oven. “Can you stick the brownies in, Ellie?”

She nodded and grabbed the pan, your body immediately spinning around when she headed for the oven.

“Woah, oven mitts,” you said.

“Oven mitts?” she asked.

“You don’t know how to use an oven, do you,” you said. She blushed and you smiled, grabbing two from the counter. “Always wear a pair of these when you’re dealing with the oven. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh, I mean...I know that. You just have to be quick,�� she said.

“No...you use oven mitts,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Where did you learn to be quick?”

“One of my...homes,” she said. You took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Is that bad?”

“Which home, El?” you asked.

“They aren’t fosters anymore,” she said. “They failed too many check ins.”

“I can see why,” you said. “Ellie...anything that ever seems questionable like that, tell me or Jensen. We want you to be safe, whether it’s the pool or the kitchen or anything at all, understand?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said.

“Honey, you don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Want me to put the brownies in or do you want to try?”

“I can do it,” she said. You smiled and watched her use the mitts this time. You set the timer and went back to make up the quesadillas, sticking them in the other oven before you grabbed her arm and tugged her with you up to the TV room.

“Find anything good for us?” you asked, Ellie taking a seat on the end of the couch a little away from Jensen. You curled up in his side, already tugging your blanket around yourself.

“I couldn’t find anything,” he said, tossing the remote to Ellie. “You pick something, kiddo.”

“I’m not a big TV watcher,” she said.

“Well you like Supernatural right?” he asked. “We can watch that if you want.”

“Isn’t that weird?” she asked.

“It was weird the first time I watched the show with Jensen but it’s pretty easy to be this is Jensen and that’s Dean. They got some in common but you know, Jensen doesn’t come with the tragic backstory,” you said.

“I do,” she mumbled. You winced and Jensen threw an around her.

“Hey. Eleanor,” he said.

“I hate that name,” she said.

“Alright, Ellie. Let me ask you this question. Sam and Dean. Would you want them to have happy lives?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Well we want you to have one too, no matter what’s happened to you,” he said.

“You’re just being nice because you’re stuck with me. You guys wanted a baby. I’m not an idiot. I’m the last thing you wanted,” she said as she stood up.

“Ellie,” you said, quickly getting to your feet as she headed for the stairs.

“Hey,” said Jensen, loud enough to get her to freeze in place. “I know we’re young. I know we aren’t what you want. But we are your foster parents and-”

“You’re not my mom and you’re not my dad,” she said, turning back with a glare. “I don’t want you.”

“Ellie. Life is not fair. It’s not. We can’t have a baby,” he said, lifting his chin. “Odds are we never have a child. That’s not what we wanted but we have to live with it. You’re scared, of us, and I get that. But don’t you think you’re the last thing we wanted. Right now, you are our child and we’re going to treat you and love you like you’re ours, got that?”

“You don’t want me,” she breathed out. “Do you know the odds of staying in this shitty system this long without being picked? It’s so, so low. No one wants me. There’s something wrong with me. No one wants me and I don’t want anyone else. I just want to be left alone.”

“That’s not true,” you said, carefully taking a step over towards her. “There is nothing wrong with you and we want you, El. We do.”

“No, you don’t. You want a baby,” she said, closing her eyes.

“We wanted a child,” said Jensen giving you a smile. “And we have one and that’s you. We got everything we wanted and more.”

“You’re lying,” she said.

“No, Ellie,” you said, returning his smile. “He’s right. We wanted a family and it’s not what we expected, but we have one with you.”

She stared at you, her eyes starting to well up. You walked over and pulled her into a hug, Ellie hanging on tightly as she started to cry quietly.

“You’re okay,” you said, Jensen walking over and giving her a hug too, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re exactly what we want Ellie,” he said. “I promise.”

The three of you stood there a moment until you heard the oven buzz off, Jensen peeling away to take care of it. You walked with Ellie down to the bathroom, helping her clean off her face, Ellie, glancing away.

“My mom taught me when I was a teenager that if you’ve been crying,” you said, holding a cold wash cloth under her eyes, “That putting a wash cloth helps the puffiness go down quicker.”

“Why would she tell you that?” she asked.

“My dad died when I was fifteen,” you said, Ellie lifting her head up. “I kind of, blocked all of it out. My mom was a mess, my brothers and sister were...I was the one that reminded my brother he had a baseball game or I took my sister to the park to play or I reminded mom to clean the house. I shoved it all down and then two weeks later when I was back in school, I just popped. I started crying in the girls bathroom every day during second period because no one ever went in there. They called my mom, said it was obvious I was crying and they wanted a meeting and everything. She basically told them to fuck off.”

“Y/N’s mom is awesome by the way,” said Jensen, walking past with a plate full of brownies and snacks.

“Anyways, she took me home and she kind of showed me that trick and said it was okay for me grieve the way I needed to grieve. It was okay that I wasn’t reacting the same way as my siblings. That meant a lot to me. It hurt a lot but I just don’t...react the way I thought I was supposed to. It took until Jensen and I were engaged before I really felt comfortable crying in front of him. It’s how I am. But eventually my mom found someone new, a really great guy. He’s my step-dad but he’s also like, just my second dad. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. And I was crying afterwards because I’d really wanted my dad to be there too. But my step-dad, he just pulled out a washcloth from his tux pocket and he had a tube of mascara and said let’s go take care of this.”

“He sounds nice,” she said.

“He is. I’m looking forward to when you get to meet them,” you said, peeling away the wash cloth. “That feel a little better? Helps with the sinuses too.”

“Yeah. I don’t even know how to do makeup really,” she said.

“I hardly wear it. Jensen wears more makeup than I ever have,” you teased.

“I heard that!” he called from the couch.

“I can show you the basics sometime,” you said, wiping off the rest of her face. “You have such a pretty face though. You don’t need it.”

“I’m not pretty,” she said.

“Yeah you are,” you said. “I’m not the most confident person, El. I mean, Jensen, he’s attractive. Like he’s major leagues and I should be in tee ball. But that’s how I see me. It’s not how he sees me or even people in general. It’s very easy to get a warped sense of your self,” you said. “Telling it to go screw itself is a bit harder.”

“Did you meet Jensen on the show?” she asked, blowing her nose. “You were on it for little while, right?”

“Yeah. I was only on one season but we very quickly became friends. It’s a bit funny how people assume we started out dating. He’s a little older than me and...we got a lot of crap when we got together. A lot. But Jensen is very good at making you feel wanted and loved when you think the rest of the world and maybe even yourself, is telling you something different.”

“You’re like super pretty though,” she said with a smile.

“See what I mean?” you said, Ellie nodding. “We better get out there before he devours everything on us.”

“I can still hear you!” said Jensen. You both giggled as you brought her back out to the couch, Ellie plopping down in the middle next to Jensen this time, taking a quesadilla off the plate.

“Jensen. I made like twenty pieces. There’s ten left,” you said.

“...Well that’s what you get for taking so long,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, sharing your blanket with Ellie and grabbing a brownie. “How about some Parks and Rec?”

“Sounds good,” he said, flipping on the first episode, Ellie smiling as she ate her quesadilla. She was quiet as she snacked and watched the show, laughing a few times as she tucked herself against Jensen, falling asleep against his leg eventually. “Kiddo out?”

“Yeah. I think the swimming and that whole episode took a lot out of her,” you said, spreading the blanket out over her. He smiled and flipped on a cooking show, Ellie still fast asleep. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, turning to you with a smile on his face, glancing down at her for a moment. “She’s not a baby.”

“She could be our baby,” you said, his smile growing bigger. “You want to do this?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Yeah, I want to do this. Maybe someday we adopt some more too.”

“I’ll call Chad then,” you said, sitting up and giving him a kiss. “Dad.”

“Mom,” he teased. “I want to surprise her though.”

“Of course you do,” you said. “You got any ideas of where you want to take her on vacation?”

“I was thinking something not too overwhelming. Maybe rent a house down on the gulf, take her to the beach?” he asked. “Or you know, Florida Keys?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Three Weeks Later

“Ellie up yet?” yawned Jensen, rubbing his eyes.

“I haven’t heard her,” you said, checking the bags by the door again. “I’ll get her, try to get some food in her before we head to the airport.”

You headed upstairs slowly, the sky still dark outside that early in the morning. You stopped outside her bedroom door, pushing it open and seeing her bed empty.

“El? You almost ready to go?” you called, poking your head in her bathroom. “Oh, honey.”

She was shivering on the floor next to the toilet, trying to force herself to stand up.

“I’m okay,” she said, getting to her feet, her face turning green before she was down again.

“It’s alright,” you said, grabbing a hair tie and pulling her hair back for her, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Just breathe. You’re okay.”

She sucked in a lungful of air when she finished and she wiped off her face, chucking the tissue in the bowl.

“What’s…” said Jensen, trailing off when he stopped at the entrance. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Ellie, wiping off her sweaty face, clutching her stomach.

“Mhm,” he said, stepping inside and putting a hand on her forehead. “You got a fever.”

“No I don’t,” she said. Jensen hummed and left, returning after a minute with a thermometer, sticking it in her ear.

“Oh. 102. Yes. Clearly no fever,” he said. “Alright. I’m gonna go call the doctor and see if we should bring you in.”

“No, no. I’m fine. We have to get on the plane soon,” she said, wrapping an arm around her stomach. “Ah. It hurts.”

“We’re not going anywhere today, okay Ellie?” you said. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Jens.”

“I’m on it,” he said, already pulling out his phone.

“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” asked Jensen at the hospital, tapping his foot like a madman in the waiting room.

“Perfectly fine. Appendectomy is a very routine procedure. She’ll be up and running around in three days,” said the doctor.

“Okay. Thank you,” he said.

“You guys want to go see her?” asked the doctor. You both hopped up out of your seats, Ellie eating a bowl of ice cream when you walked in her room.

“Hey, El,” you said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Jensen moving to the other side. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” she said, the doctor excusing himself.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us you were hurting?” asked Jensen, fixing her hair behind her ear.

“We were supposed to go on vacation,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“We can go anytime,” he said with a smile. “You’re more important than a trip, always.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I still...I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “Next time you tell us though.”

“I promise,” she said.

“Good,” said Jensen. “Now let’s see if we can find some more that ice cream.”

“Hey guys,” said Chad the next night, stopping by pretty late.

“Hi,” you said, letting him inside, Jensen giving him a wave from the couch. “Ellie’s sleeping upstairs. Still recovering.”

“Yeah, I more came by to talk to you guys,” he said. Jensen flipped off the TV as Chad took a seat, pulling out his file. “So I got your message that you two are interested in adopting Ellie.”

“We are,” said Jensen, giving your hand a squeeze when you sat next to him. “We know it’ll take awhile so we figured we’d start now.”

“Well...you guys don’t know Ellie’s full history,” he said, sliding over a large file.

“Well nothing in this file is going to make us change our minds,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Chad.

“Ellie...you probably assume her parents are dead,” said Chad. You glanced at Jensen, getting the same confused look from him you were sure was on his face. “They aren’t. They are simply unfit to serve as parents. In situations like that, we really try to keep the kid with the birth parents. They’ve never been willing to sign over full custody so-”

“Are you saying we can’t adopt her?” you asked.

“I’m saying we need permission from the birth parents. The dad’s a deadbeat so he’ll be easier than the mother who is again, a deadbeat, but she’s more...nuts,” he said. “There’s been a few who tried in the past but didn’t succeed.”

“Does Ellie know that people have tried to adopt her before?” you asked.

“No,” he said. Jensen scowled, Chad holding up a hand. “This is complicated and I’d prefer if you two don’t say anything to her. We can set up a meeting with the birth parents and see if they’d be willing to relinquish their rights but honestly, I don’t see it happening.”

“Why does someone unfit to be a parent get to do that?” asked Jensen.

“Because that’s the way it works right now. I don’t agree with it but it’s the way things are. You two have taken the most interest in Ellie I’ve ever seen and I’m rooting for you guys, I am. But I need to be realistic about what’ll happen,” he said.

“So if they say no, then what,” you said.

“Then you’ll remain as fosters to her until such time she either ages out or you decline to be fosters and she’d be moved again,” he said.

“What about when she ages out,” said Jensen, resting his elbows on his knees. “When she’s a legal adult, couldn’t she choose to be adopted by someone else?”

“Yes...that doesn’t happen often though. You’re talking about something, two, three years down the line. She may not want to be at that point. She may wonder why you waited, why now. The legal technicalities don’t cut it sometimes. She may, she may not. We just don’t know,” he said.

“So because some deadbeats that obviously couldn’t give a rats ass about her say no, we can’t give her a family?” scoffed Jensen.

“Welcome to the reason I sometimes really hate my job,” he said. “She is happier lately and Ellie is normally not a happy kid. I know she likes being here and feels safe here. If it were up to me, we’d sign all the papers tonight. But it’s not. If you want her, you have to fight for her and odds are, you will lose.”

“Bad odds are kind of our speciality,” said Jensen, turning to you. “You want to give up?”

“Nope,” you said, a smile spreading across his face.

“Set up a meeting,” said Jensen. “I’d like to give these people a piece of my mind.”

Three Days Later

“Some fancy rich people ain’t taking my girl,” said Heather, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her seat, looking at you. “Has this one even hit puberty?”

“Ms. Ursa,” said Jensen, forcing a smile on his face. “We very much would like to adopt Ellie.”

“I very much don’t give a shit,” she said, looking to the seat next to her where a man looked half awake. “Well, Tony?”

“Fuck you,” he said. “I don’t give a shit either way. I never did. Let the rich people have the kid.”

“Tony, would you be willing to sign-” said Chad, cutting himself off when Heather slammed her hand down.

“She ain’t going off to be some charity case for these two,” she said.

“Who gives a shit?” said Tony, grabbing the paper from Tony and singing it. “Nobody’s ever gonna bother me about this kid again, right?”

“Well you just relinquished all rights so you’re correct, no one will question you about Eleanor again,” he said.

“Good,” he said, standing up and looking back at Heather. “You stay the hell away from me too, bitch.”

“Asshole!” she called after him as he left the room. You looked at Jensen quickly, both your heads going to Chad.

“Okay. Heather, perhaps-”

“I said no,” she said.

“Why do you even care?” you asked, her gaze going to you. “You’ve had a decade to try and get your life together for her and you picked yourself every time over her. Why do you care if she’s your daughter on paper? You’ve never been a mother to her. Your parents were the ones that raised her until they turned her over to foster care. Why do you even want her?”

“She’s my daughter,” she said.

“You might be her mother, that doesn’t make you her mom,” you said.

“Yes it does, dipshit,” she said, looking between the two of you. “You know what? You two fork over some money and I may be inclined to sign that thing.”

“Ms. Ursa,” said Chad. “That is highly inappropriate and will be reported.”

“So? She’s still my kid,” she said.

“When’s Ellie’s birthday?” asked Jensen.

“I don’t know. March,” she said.

“February 12th. Do you even know how old she is?” he asked.

“Who cares?” she said. “She’s mine.”

“She’s 16,” he said. “If you don’t even care enough to know basic facts about Ellie, why do you care so much about keeping her?”

“Fuck you,” she said as she stood up. “That’s a no by the way.”

She stormed out and slammed the door behind her, Jensen blinking his eyes a few times.

“How is it possible that she gets any rights, at all?” said Jensen.

“She certainly just hurt them by trying to get you to pay her off,” said Chad. “Just let me work this. I have a feeling we’re going to need to escalate and Ellie’s going to get involved.”

“We wanted to surprise her with the adoption,” said Jensen.

“I know. This isn’t about adoption right now though. It’s about the mother giving over her rights so Ellie can be free to be adopted,” he said. “For now, that’s all we’re going to treat this as.”

“Do I have to go in?” asked Ellie a few weeks later, frowning in the hallway in her dress and flats.

“Just tell the lawyers and the judge the truth, honey,” said Jensen with a smile.

“Did my mom really stop it so other people who wanted to adopt me years ago couldn’t?” she asked.

“She had a right to stop it,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes behind Ellie. “But some people don’t think she should have it anymore. You’re 16 which gives you a little bit of a say in this.”

“But no one will want…” she trailed off.

“Just tell the truth, El,” said Jensen. She nodded and went in when they called her, Jensen leaning back against the wall with a sigh. “What do you think will happen?”

“I don’t know,” you said, grabbing his hand and standing besides him. “Either way, we don’t treat her any different.”

“I love you,” he said, throwing an over your shoulders and kissing your temple. “Let’s just hope for the best thing for her right now.”

“Hey, El,” you said, knocking on the door to her room that night. She was laying on the bed staring at the ceiling. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I know logically that what happened today is the best thing for me but part of me thinks there’s something wrong with me too.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” you said, sitting down on the bed.

“My parents never cared about me,” she said, turning her head towards you. “Never. There’s something-”

“No, there’s not,” you said. “Now you can be with people that do care. Those people made you but that doesn’t mean they were your parents, honey.”

“I know,” she said, turning on her side and reaching her arms out, wrapping them around your waist as she curled up. “Still sucks.”

“Would you want to stay here with us as long as you’re in foster care?” you asked. She nodded, a tiny smile on her face. “Okay. We’d really like that too.”

“Can we get pizza for dinner?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said, bending down and giving her a hug. “We can get whatever you want.”

Two Months Later

“Eleanor,” said Jensen as dinner, Ellie freezing with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Did you go swimming by yourself today?”

“Yes?” she winced. “I’m really good now, Jensen. I can go by myself.”

“She is a very good swimmer,” you said. “Ellie was saying maybe she even wanted to try out for the swim team at school. I think the tryouts are towards the end of September.”

“You’re gonna have to make sure I get a copy of your swim meets so I can run out of work when I need to,” said Jensen with a smile.

“So I can go in the pool by myself?” she said.

“Yes but be careful,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, slurping down her pasta. The rest of dinner was quiet, Ellie helping cleaning up as part of her chores. She practically dragged Jensen outside to make some smores like he’d promised earlier, Jensen chuckling as he whipped some up for dessert.

“Hey, Ellie,” you said, leaning back in your deck chair with a smile. “Jensen and I have something we want to tell you.”

“Oh,” she said, body stiffening up. “I’m being moved again, aren’t I.”

“No, no, sweetie,” said Jensen, grabbing a box from under the table, smiling as he handed it to her. “Y/N hasn’t been feeling all that great lately so we took her to the doctors a few weeks ago.”

“I, don’t ask me how, but somehow, I am pregnant,” you said, Jensen’s face in a big grin.

“You’re gonna have a baby?” she asked. “That’s great.”

You both saw the slight disappointment on her face, Jensen tapping the box.

“Well, big sis, why don’t you open up your present we got you,” he said, holding his hands behind his back.

“You guys got me a world’s best sister shirt or something, didn’t you,” she said with a small smile, tearing open the cardboard box and tilting her head. “A stack of papers. Okay.”

She raised an eyebrow as she picked them up, Jensen and you both staring at her as you watched her read them and proceed to drop them on the ground as her face scrunched up. She didn’t say anything but nodded her head, letting you both pull her into a big hug.

“Okay, it’s really awesome that you’re having a baby actually,” she laughed, still holding on tight.

“Y/N wanted to surprise you,” teased Jensen.

“He is such a liar,” you said, Ellie wiping off her face as she pulled back for a moment. “I’m going to take that as you’re okay with us adopting you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

“I realize something now,” said Jensen, giving you both a smile. “I totally burned the shit out of those smores over there, didn’t I.”

“Yup,” you said, Ellie laughing as you saw the charred remains of the marshmallows.

“We have cookie cake inside too to celebrate,” said Jensen.

“You are doing very well in the dad department so far,” said Ellie.

“Well thank you,” said Jensen with a big smile. “That means a lot, kiddo.”

One Year Later

“Elliot,” said Ellie, the little boy taking a greater interest in chewing on her hair than playing with her at the moment. “Eli...no.”

“Dude, stop eating her hair,” laughed Jensen as he scooped him up and sat him on his hip. “Your sister has a very important race today.”

“It’s just sectionals,” she said.

“A year ago you couldn’t even swim. Now you’re the best swimmer at school. You’re gonna blow all those other suckers away,” he said.

“And winning is not everything,” you said, rolling your eyes as you exited the laundry room with her favorite swim suit. “Jensen.”

“She knows that. Try your best is all. We’re proud either way,” he said as you shoved her suit in her gym bag. “But you know. Kill ‘em out there.”

“I know. Are you guys sure you want to bring Eli? It’s kind of loud at the pool,” she said. “I don’t want him to get scared.”

“Boom,” said Jensen, pulling out a pair of big earphones from his back pocket, sticking them over Elliot’s head.

“You’re such a dork,” you said.

“You kind of are, dad,” she said as she picked up her bag, slowly righting herself with it. “Uh…”

“Well let’s get going, don’t want to be late,” he said, grabbing the baby bag from the floor.

“Was that okay?” she asked when he walked outside to get Eli packed up in the car.

“Yeah. You call us what you’re comfortable with,” you said. She nodded and slipped into her sneakers, taking her gym bag with her as you locked up the house.

“All set?” asked Jensen as she tossed it in the back and piled in besides Eli.

“Mhm,” she said, Jensen waiting a moment for everyone to buckle up before he backed out. “Hey, mom, dad?”

“Yeah?” you asked, Jensen smiling at you quickly before he was on the street.

“Thanks,” she said, looking out the window when you turned back.

“You’re welcome,” said Jensen. “For what?”

“Just…you know,” she said.

“Hm?” he asked.

“I’ll explain it to you later, Jens,” you said with a smile. “Come on. Let’s go watch our girl race.”

________

#spn #spngenrebingo #supernatural #jensen x reader #rpf #au #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #spn fanfic

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

I Just Need a Lover (So Gimme What I Want) (Rosnali) - Joley

ao3 link

Rosé hadn’t even opened his suitcase when he heard a knock on the door, but he dropped it instantly to rush to open it. “That was quick. You miss me that bad?” he smirked.

Denali scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course I missed you, Rosie,” and despite the faux-annoyed expression, he threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“Everyone’s excited for the show tonight,” Denali said as they settled onto the hotel room bed. “I really hyped you up, so you better not disappoint,” he jokingly warned.

“I only ever disappoint my extended family, don’t you worry,” he chuckled.

——