#throw in a dead kid? yeah he's gone

[nightingaletrash]

so we know Vi is dead in the alternate universe, but do you think Jayce is too? not only did his dream never come true, but it led to a kid literally dying in his apartment. He was ready to kill himself over the prospect of never finishing his work in s1 act 1, having the death of a child on his conscience, even if it was a total accident?

I just don't see Jayce trying to defend his work after that, but I can't see him accepting it and moving on, and with no defence for what he was trying to do, Viktor had no reason to seek him out because this is just some guy whose work caused an explosion, not the guy who gives the passionate speech about the champions of discovery.

so yeah... I think Jayce is super dead in the alternate universe, which locked down the 'No Hextech' aspect of that world. And maybe his death and Vi's are what spurs the two cities to try and exist more harmoniously, because now two young people who were so very loved are gone and the root cause comes down to the divide between them.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[steddieprompts]

Another mini fic. cutesy. Eddie is an idiot. 1880 words.

Thanksgiving, 1986.

Eddie smiled into the phone as Joyce listed off all the people who were going to be at their early Thanksgiving.  “Argyle is flying in from California, and Dustin is bringing his mom.  You and your uncle should come! The more the merrier!”

“That sounds great, Mrs. Byers.  We’d love to.”  Eddie replied.

“Oh good!  Remember, Friday at 3:30, we’ll eat at 4:30.”

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie hung up the phone and left a note for Wayne.  He wouldn’t be home until 4 in the morning.  Eddie was sure he would have something to say about it.  “Ain’t got nothin’ to bring,” or “Three’s a crowd, not sure what to call twenty.”  But he would go. Hopper would have a glass of whisky for him, and they would sit out on the porch after dinner swapping war stories.

What worried Eddie more was his… situation with Steve.  See, earlier in the week he and Steve had gone to the movies.  They had had a nice time, a really good time, even, and for a few months Eddie had sensed something building between them.  He just couldn’t believe it was anything close to what he deeply, deeply hoped for.  He was so in his head about it that after the movies, when Steve dropped him back at the trailer, Eddie panicked.  Acted like a virgin idiot, really.  Steve had parked the car, glanced up at the dark trailer before turning towards Eddie.

“I had a really good time tonight.”  He had said.

“Uh, yeah, it was nice.”  Eddie replied, tense in his seat because he could sense something coming from Steve.

“Yeah, nice.”  Steve mused and then Eddie made the fatal mistake of looking at him.  Steve was sort of leaning towards him, elbow on the armrest between the seats, head tilted ever so slightly, eyes soft.

“Yup!”  Eddie squeaked out and then grabbed the door handle, throwing the door open and tripping out of the car like he was being chased by the devil.  “We should, uh, do it again sometime.  Bye!”  He bumbled out before slamming the door and launching himself up the porch stairs and into the trailer.

He hadn’t really talked to Steve since.

+++++++

So, that Friday, when he and Wayne were welcomed into the Byers’ home, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  Wayne was immediately pulled away by Hopper and a glass of whiskey, leaving Eddie to shuffle awkwardly towards the living room.  Once the kids saw him, he had something to keep him occupied, until all the hugs were given out and Nancy brought him a drink.  He hadn’t seen Steve yet.

“Uh, where’s Max?  Not here yet?”  Eddie asked as he accepted the drink.

“Oh!  She’s with Will and El in the kitchen.  They’re helping Mrs. Byers with the cooking,” Nancy explained.

“I should go say hi.”  Eddie stepped away from the living room towards the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the threshold.  There, next to Mrs. Byers at the stove, was Steve, with his knit, red sweater and a towel over his shoulder, like some sort of Christmas romance movie hero.

“Eddie’s here!”  He heard Will say before he could tear his eyes away from Steve, who, of course, turned around as soon as he heard Eddie’s name.  Bemused, he watched a smile spread over Steve’s face before Will enveloped him in a hug.  A hug that Eddie graciously returned.

“Sir William, it is an honor to be welcomed into your abode.” Eddie said with a little bow, before hugging Max and El.

“Eddie!  We’re so glad you made it!”  Joyce said from the stove as Eddie took another few cautious steps into the room.  “Is your uncle here too?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s with Hopper tending the fire,” Eddie relied, “Thank you, again, for having us.”

“Of course, sweetheart!”

Eddie chanced another look at Steve.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve said, eyes warm, easy smile.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie replied.  Maybe he hadn’t totally fucked everything up as much as he thought.  But Steve seemed quiet, reserved. Maybe he had.

“I think about ten more minutes!”  Joyce said, pulling the turkey out of the oven.  “I need Hop to come carve the turkey.  Hop!”  She yelled out into the noisy living room.

“I’ll go find him, Mrs. B,” Eddie volunteered before ducking out of the kitchen… and right into Robin.

“You.” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Uh, hello to you too, Bobin.”

“What the hell did you do to Steve?”

Eddie’s heart dropped into his shoes.  “I… what? Nothing!”

“He’s been mopey for the past five days!  The last thing he did was go to the movies with you!”

“I swear!”

“Did you say something about his hair?  You know his last haircut didn’t really go the way he planned.  Or was it the movie?  Did you tell him you didn’t want to see Hoosiers?  Because you know how much he wanted to see that movie.”

“No! Buckley, we saw Hoosiers! And I didn’t even notice his hair.  Look…”  Eddie let out his breath in a huff.  “Just hold on.”  Eddie moved from the hallway to the living room so he could see Hopper.  “Hey, chief?  The missus needs you to carve the bird.”  Hopper nodded to him and Eddie turned on his heel to go back to his conversation with Robin, only to come face to face with the woman herself.  It was a miracle he didn’t spill his drink down her shirt.  “Ok, look, come here.”  Eddie murmured, dragging her off into a corner of the hall.

He took a sip of his drink and steeled himself.  “Ok, I might have, maybe, panicked, a little when he dropped me off,” Eddie mumbled out.

“You what?”

“Look, you can’t tell anyone, but I’ve got this stupid… fat… stupid crush on Harrington and I might have, like, freaked out about it.”

“…you what…”

“I know it’s stupid! But he looked so… soft! And just.  Like he might have, I don’t know, wanted to kiss me or something, but there is no way that could have been what was happening, but my stupid primate brain thought it was, so I bolted, Okay?  I’m not proud of it. It probably came off as weird and rude and that’s probably what got him all twisted up.”  Eddie took a deep breath after his rant, and then a sip of his drink, watching Robin’s face cycle through uncountable emotions.

“Edward, I say this with the utmost sympathy as well as disrespect.  You, are an idiot.”  And with that she left him blinking in the hallway.

Eddie thought about those two little sentences throughout the entire dinner.  An idiot?  He knew he was an idiot, but why?  Because he thought Steve maybe liked him?  Or because he didn’t kiss Steve?  What the hell did she mean?  Not to mention Steve was across the table from him and every time Eddie looked up, Steve would look away from him like he had been staring.

“Eddie!”

“Huh?!” Eddie tore his eyes away from Steve to look at Dustin.

“I was asking if we were still on for our campaign next week.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m almost done.  Just need to iron out the kinks.”  Eddie replied, feeling Steve’s gaze burning into the side of his head, but when he looked back Steve’s eyes were back on his plate.  He had been uncharacteristically quiet when Eddie was in the kitchen.  Was he mad at Eddie?  No, that couldn’t have been it; he gave Eddie that smile that nearly made him forget where he was.

Steve was being cautious. Guarded. So unlike himself.

Eddie really had screwed up.

“In the drama room?”  Eddie heard Dustin say, distantly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie answered, eyes not leaving Steve, who kept glancing up at him.

He had to fix this.  He wanted the old Steve back.  Wanted more than that, if his luck was with him.

After everyone had eaten and Mrs. Henderson was bringing out the pies, Joyce started to gather the plates.

“I’ve got it, Mrs. B.  You sit.”  Eddie said, standing and gathering the plates around him.  “Stevie, you wanna help me with dish duty?”  He asked, sending up a little prayer to the universe that his stupid, little, half-baked plan would work.  Steve nodded and started gathering the plates on his side.

In the kitchen, plates stacked high on the counter next to the sink, Eddie stood with his hands in the soapy water, the sound of his extended family floating in from the dining room, and Steve next to him with a towel in his hands, drying the dishes Eddie handed him.

“About Monday night…” Eddie started hesitantly.  He saw Steve freeze next to him.  He kept his gaze on the dish he was washing. If he looked at Steve he might choke again.  “I… Shit, I don’t know what happened. I just… well I thought maybe there was something, I don’t know, between us.  But I’m not good at reading those signs, ya know?  Not much experience.”  He heard himself chuckle wryly, before clearing his throat.  At least Steve was unfrozen, listening and drying a casserole dish.  “But it’s not about that, not really.  I shouldn’t have just… bolted like that.  I can’t pretend to understand what was happening, but whatever it was, that was a pretty shitty reaction on my part.  And I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

He kept washing the dish in his hands, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve put the casserole dish down.

“Eddie, look at me.”  Eddie turned his head, meeting Steve’s gaze.  His warm, gentle, beautiful gaze.  “it’s not all your fault.”

“Oh…”  Eddie let out a little noise.  That didn’t answer any of his questions, but he couldn’t look away.  He couldn’t look away as Steve stepped closer.  Couldn’t look away as Steve took the dish out of his hands and gave him the towel.

“Come on,” Steve said, nodding over his shoulder towards the back door.  Eddie quickly dried his hands and followed Steve outside to the back porch.  The air was frosty, the lightest dusting of snow on the handrail and tiny flakes dancing in the dim porch light.  “I should have…”  Steve settled his hip against the porch rail, looking down at his nails.  “I should have been more up front with you.”  He said, finally looking at Eddie.

Shit.  Steve was going to try to let him down easy.  He knew he read it wrong.

“I really, really like you, Eddie.”  What? “And I’ve never really felt this way about a guy,” What?? “Let alone a friend.  And I’ve been so scared of ruining what we have.  I should have just told you.” Excuse me?

“Wait.”  Eddie let out a little, exasperated laugh, reeling it back in when Steve winced. “Stevie, you like me?”  Steve just nodded.  “Did you really want to kiss me? Monday night?”  Steve nodded again.  Eddie took a steadying breath, “do you still?”

There was a pause… and then…

That soft, warm, smile that made Eddie feel like he was made of sunlight.

“Yeah,” Steve barely got out before Eddie launched himself at him, cupping Steve’s cheeks, kissing him until he knew that smile by feel alone.

Happy Thanksgiving.

[suiana]

imagine yandere! drider who makes himself at home in the corner of your room one day.

you come home from work, absolutely tired and just wanting to have a break... only to hear a weird scratching sound coming from your room. what the hell could it be? surely it's just your imagination? so you make your way towards your room nonchalantly, pushing the door open and...

"wha-?!"

"oh, darling."

you freeze, staring at this... absolutely gorgeous drider who had made himself at home in the corner of your room... you were originally going to let things be until you saw the many tiny babies on the back of his spider lower body. screaming and throwing your bag at him, you slam your door shut and run away from your room as fast as you could. shit, shit, shit! a spider dilf?!

...you were going to escape until you hit your toe and started crying on the ground. the drider came out of the room (with babies and all) and nursed you back to health.

and that was your first meeting with the hot asf spider dilf in your room.

you later learned that he was surprisingly gentle and didn't mean for you to be scared by his appearance. you wanted to tell him the truth. that well, you weren't scared by his appearance, sure, you were stunned when you saw this whole ass grown dude in your room but he was hot so it doesn't really matter. but rather, his kids scared the hell out of you with their tiny beady eyes. however... you're sure that if you said that, he'd try and kill you. you've seen how caring and loving he is with his tiny spider babies after all.

you've also come to learn that he really loves making intricate web designs. designs that absolutely sparkle when the light hits them in a certain way... they're all so beautiful and mesmerizing that you can't help but compliment him whenever you can.

"hey, your patterns are beautiful as usual dude."

"ah... thank you love."

he blushes, avoiding eye contact as he shakily pulls out a flower from behind his back. right, he's been giving you these gifts at random too. it's cute. well, not when he just started out though. he used to gift you dead rats.

you were horrified when you woke up one day and saw a dead rat on your desk. what the fuck?! your drider roomie didn't seem all too phased, even looking at you expectantly as he waits for a compliment. you had to explain to him that humans don't accept gifts like that. he looked rather deflated the rest of the day after that. talking about how his spouse must hate him and stuff. you didn't know he had a spouse.

you've also realized that he's weirdly overprotective of you.

you can't even go out on dates anymore. or... talk to anyone for that matter. he once threw your phone at a wall when he saw you texting this guy you were planning on meeting up. he also gets all pissy and starts making weird spider sounds while his children crawl around your feet. you were super grossed out by that at first but you've grown used to it by now.

"dude stop, i just want to go on a date!"

"no."

"why?!"

"you already have me! that's why!"

he gets all pouty, arms crossed over his huge tits as he nags you about trying to cheat on him. you never really said anything about that before. surely he's just roleplaying because you sometimes act like his lover by giving him food and asking how he is. but this has gone too far! you have to say something!

"we aren't dating, what are you on about?"

"yeah, because we're married."

what.

you stare at him, jaw dropping as his kids tug on your pants and chat noisily. did he just... say you guys were married? you try searching his face for any lies, only to be hit by the fact that he was serious.

that's when everything starts to suddenly fit together in your mind. the gifts, the name-calling, the fact that his kids love you... damn, maybe it was also because you complimented his webs that solidified his belief that you two were together. you read somewhere that male spiders make patterns to impress potential mates.

"um..."

"hmph! don't go on any dates anymore. i can't believe you keep trying to be unfaithful. our kids will be sad you know!"

damn it, looks like you got yourself a drider husband now.

[gravedwe11er]

Mecha AU Deadlock angst? Mecha AU Deadlock angst!

Or, I saw a post mentioning that someone is gonna have to explain human lifespans to the bots, and my brain ran with it. Based on the @keferon mecha AU.

CW: Discussions of death and mortality

Human and cybertronian lifespans are such wildly disparate things. Deadlock struggles with this newfound knowledge.

Forty local stellar cycles. Maybe fifty, if he’s one of the lucky ones.

Now, even before his crash-landing on this planet, Deadlock knew enough about organics to be aware they’re generally not as long-lived as mechanical species. Comes with being so breakable all over, if he had to guess, but-

That’s barely half a fragging vorn.

Even if he gets lucky, even if, for once, Deadlock doesn’t fail at keeping the people he cares about safe, the little organic medic is going to be dead in half a vorn. ‘That’s just how things are, for humans,’ Swerve said. ‘I’m sorry,’ Swerve said.

Slag, and what about Roddy? Deadlock’s pretty sure the pilot is younger than Ratchet, but still- that gives him, how long, a vorn? Less? Even the very thought of it just feels so damn wrong. The little guy’s so bright, how could anyone with an EM field like a fucking Prime have the lifespan of--

Deadlock desperately wants to shoot something.

Instead, he drives towards Ratchet’s workshop, transforming the moment he’s out of sight and heading straight for the doc once he finds him in the garage. It’s yet another testament to the man’s caring nature that he lets himself get picked up with only token grumbling, throwing a concerned look Deadlock’s way but not pushing the matter.

The human medic has always been scarily good at reading him. In moments like these, Deadlock can’t help but be overwhelmingly grateful for it.

Hugging the man to the side of his helm, he soon feels a small, calloused hand running gently down one finial. Deadlock wants to scream. The injustice of it all making his processor spin, his spark thrumming with pain and fear and overwhelming grief. How can he bear to lose all this so soon? He’s only just found him, the first glimpse of something like peace in eons, and he can’t deal with the thought of him gone, he can’t-

Ratchet grunts in his servos, knocking loudly on one of Deadlock’s fingers, and with a jolt he realizes just how tight he’s been holding the man. Immediately, he loosens his grip, gently petting down the doc’s back in silent apology. After a moment, a warm ser- hand pats his cheek.

“Feel like telling me what’s eating you, kid?” Ratchet asks, before lightly pushing against Deadlock’s face.

Responding to the wordless request, Deadlock pulls his cupped hands away from his helm, just enough so he can look into the human medic’s opti- eyes. He scrambles for a way to express his racing thoughts, vocalizer hissing with static, before abruptly spitting out, “Are you dying?”

To his surprise, the man bursts out laughing. “Shit, where’d you get that idea?” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, as much as I’m sure a bunch of my previous employers would love to dance on my grave, let me assure you that I’m perfectly fi-“

“But you’re not!” Deadlock almost shouts, engine growling. “He said- decay of organic components, and human lifespans are-“ his voice gets stuck in his throat, vocalizer jamming, and he offlines his optics for a moment. Tries to get his slag together, at least a little.

When he turns them on again, all the mirth has left his human’s face. The medic’s eyes are serious, a sad sort of expression on his face, and Deadlock wants to curl himself around the man and never let go.

“Right,” sighs Ratchet, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was sort of hoping you knew about that already.”

The last flutter of hope he was harboring vanishes. “So he was right? You only live for- eighty, ninety of your years?”

“Afraid so, kid,” says the man, suddenly looking so fragile in Deadlock’s palms. “Look, I know it’s not a lot to your kind, but-“

“And there’s nothing to be done? Can’t you- figure something out?”

He’s reaching and he knows it, but the human looks so- accepting of it. Like it’s a perfectly normal thing, to barely get to live at all before your body breaks down and dies, just like that!

Ratchet shakes his head with a wry smile. “Not how that works. People have been trying, sure, but nobody ever really got anywhere. And even if we did manage to drastically expand our lifespans somehow, the psychological effects it would have… we’re just not made for that, Deadlock,” he says, patting Deadlock on the nearest finger; a ghost of a touch, but still comforting. “I, hah, appreciate your faith in me kid, but not even I can do miracles.”

“I just don’t- how the fuck can you be so alright with that?” Deadlock asks, feeling utterly miserable.

The man snorts. “What else is there to do? It’s not like worrying about it would fix anything, and I’m not going to waste my life thinking about my death.” Then the human’s gaze softens, and he stands up to be more optic-level with Deadlock. “Listen to me. I know this is a hard pill to swallow, but there’s nothing you, or anybody else, can change about it. The only thing you can do,” he says gently, reaching a hand towards Deadlock’s cheek, “is make the most of it.”

Deadlock exvents, suddenly feeling deeply tired. “Right. Right, I guess I just- gotta make it count, then,” he mutters, carefully leaning into the contact and the comfort it brings.

Ratchet smiles at him. “That’s the spirit. Have fun with Roddy- safe fun,” he quickly adds. “Take him on drives, or, hell, feel free to bum around my workshop as usual, if that’s what you want. You know I don’t mind the company, provided you behave yourself,” says the doc, his words punctuated by a mock-threatening look. “Just… try enjoy the time you have with us, okay?”

“Mkay,” he answers, voice still choked with static, before pulling the little medic to his chestplates. This close to his spark, he can read the human’s odd, tiny EM field with perfect clarity – concern, quiet affection and a deep kind of care rolls off of him in waves. Sometimes, Deadlock wishes he could tangle their fields together properly, synchronizing their frequencies in an embrace only possible for his kind, but- this is good too. More than good, really – it’s something unique to the two of them, and that makes it perfect as far as he’s concerned.

“Now, I’d really like to know which tactless bastard just dropped all this on you,” jokes Ratchet, the vibrations of the man’s voice tickling pleasantly against his plating, “so I can go brain them with a wrench for it.”

Despite himself, Deadlock snorts. “I think Swerve might be a little outside your size class, doc.”

“Oh, don’t you underestimate me, kid!” the medic grumbles, but he’s laughing too, and the return to the usual banter eases some of the weight on Deadlock’s spark.

Forty stellar cycles, maybe fifty.

He’ll make those years count.

He’ll make them be enough.

(Maybe, if he repeats it a few hundred times more, he’ll make himself believe it, too.)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

help me forget. l Joel Miller

Summary: you broke down and Joel was the only one who could help you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex, two dead bodies, mention of blood, Reader has a crisis, Ellie is in it

A/N: did i add something again? i have another exam on saturday and i'm going through a crisis. sorry for the mistakes, i wanted to write it and add it today.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"I'm sure everything's fine. Something just had to stop them."

Joel tore his eyes from the horizon and looked at Ellie, her fingers gripping the railing, her eyes fixed on the distance.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

He didn't want to show her that he was already nervous. Something was tightening painfully in his gut, you should have been back by now.

He didn't like the idea, but you quickly calmed his thoughts. Tommy, Shane, you and a few other men were going on a three-day trip to a nearby town. Supplies needed to be replenished, and the growing school in Jackson would be happy to accept new equipment. 

If Joel had been nervous up until now, he was like a ticking bomb now. Ellie could see he was worried, she felt the same. The whole group should have been back in the morning, it was getting late and there was no sign of you.

"Go home, kid." he muttered "I'll let you know when they get back."

"No way!" Ellie got offended "I'm going to give her a hard time when she finally shows up."

They fell silent again, staring at the spot where the familiar car should have appeared. Minutes passed, the sun was setting, until finally Ellie shouted "They're coming!" and Joel's heart began to beat faster. 

However, when he finally breathed a sigh of relief, he noticed something disturbing in the approaching vehicle. Something bad had happened...

The gate opened and the entire group entered Jackson. Maria stood by Joel, looking out for his brother, soon her face lit up.

"Tommy! Thank God!" she cried, throwing herself into the arms of the man who got out of the car.

He hugged her tightly, but it was Joel who caught his eye. The lump in his throat grew painfully. His gaze swept over the group, searching for a familiar face, the one he was so worried about, the one he needed to see alive.

"We met another group." Tommy said. "We lost two people..."

Joel's legs almost buckled. But he didn't have time to say anything, not even take a breath when another car door opened and he finally saw you. In a few quick steps he was already by your side, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Only when he let go of you did he notice the already dried cut above your eyebrow, some scratch on your cheek, but you were alive.

But something was wrong. Joel sensed it immediately. Your gaze... Something changed in your eyes.

"What happened? Who did we lose?" Maria asked.

Tommy gave two names and everyone fell silent for a moment. Ellie took advantage of this moment to run up to you and hug you tightly.

"You look terrible." she said "But I'm glad you decided to come back."

"I'm fine..." you replied quietly, stroking her hair "I have something for you." you pulled something out of your belt, which turned out to be a comic book in pretty good shape.

"Oh! Cool!"

Joel noticed his brother's gaze, he clearly wanted to say something, but then he looked at you and seemed a bit confused. He understood him.

"Ellie, take her to the clinic. Let someone see her." he said.

"I'm fine." you replied, but Ellie had already grabbed your hand.

"Come on, you'll tell me everything." she said, pulling you towards the clinic building. Only when you were gone did Tommy finally speak up.

"Six, maybe seven men. We ran into them when we were about to leave the city."

"Riders?" Maria asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Possibly. We'll never know. They started shooting at the car, they wanted to scare us first."

"I hit some wreck." Shane walked up to them, he also had a few scratches on his face, but he was fine, he looked at Joel "I hit it pretty hard. That's how she cut her forehead."

Joel nodded. The cut was a small payment for bringing you back alive.

"We got into a fight. It was really bad." Tommy continued, and Maria folded her arms tighter over her chest "I don't know when we lost our men. It all happened so fast..."

"No one blames you, Tommy." Joel spoke up. His brother looked at him sadly.

"One of them surprised me. We fell to the ground, struggling. I thought..." he took a deep breath "I thought I wouldn't come back."

"I took out two of them before I saw what was happening." Shane continued for him, and then your name tumbled from his lips. "Her gun jammed. One of the guys hit her, but she managed somehow. Then she saw Tommy." 

Joel felt his brother wanted to tell him something, something that wasn't very nice.

"She got to me before Shane. It was a second or two." He looked at Maria "She saved my life. If it wasn't for her... That guy had no chance..."

Maria sighed and took her husband in her arms trying to hide her tears.

Shane leaned slightly towards Joel and added quietly "Listen, talk to her. She's barely spoken since then."

"What happened?" Joel asked, feeling his voice tremble.

Walsh sighed. "He got hit in the ribs and in the neck. A few times. But she... Shit, I had to get her off him."

A familiar image appeared before Joel's eyes, he knew what Shane was talking about, he had seen you like this before. That was the moment when you defended Ellie and yourself. He looked towards the clinic with concern.

"Thanks, Shane." He said. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem, man."

Warm steam was coming out of the bathroom, pleasantly warming the bedroom. It was quite late. Ellie hid in her room, engrossed in the comic book you brought her. You, on the other hand, had already taken a shower and, dressed in clean clothes, were combing your still damp hair.

"You must be tired as hell." Joel put a mug of tea on your nightstand.

"Mhm..."

You didn't say much and you barely ate dinner, which worried him, but he thought that maybe once you went to bed you'd feel better. Joel took a quick shower and when he came back to the room he saw that you were already lying under the covers.

Tiredness must have won, because your breathing was already steady and calm. The bed creaked quietly as Joel lay down behind you, hugged you and snuggled into your back, kissing your shoulder. Tomorrow will be a new day. He would talk to you, and you would feel better. For sure.

You weren't in his arms. The space next to him was empty and cold. Joel rubbed his eyes and looked around the dark room. Only after a moment did he notice the faint light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He hesitantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked in a hoarse voice, knocking quietly.

Nothing. Silence. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He knocked again.

"Are you there? Can I come in?"

Something hit the floor and rolled across it. Joel no longer hesitated, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. You were sitting against the wall with your knees pulled up to your chest, your eyes puffy from tears. You had to try to get up, but you clumsily threw the cup with toothbrushes on the floor and it was the one that made the noise.

"Sweetheart..."

He quickly knelt down next to you, took your face in his hands. Your cheeks were wet from tears, single strands of hair stuck to your face.

"How long have you been here? Come back with me, honey..."

"I-I can't come back...." your voice was shaking. Joel didn't understand what you said. His heart was breaking when he looked at you like that. "I can't, I can't Joel."

"Of course you can. I'll help you, you know that. You're not alone in this."

Your eyes were glazed with tears, you took a breath through trembling lips. "I did it again... Again. When I saw this guy on Tommy, he wanted to kill him, and I..."

"And you saved him." Joel interrupted you. "You saved Tommy. You saved my brother's life."

"You didn't see it! There was so much blood everywhere..."

"But I see you! And I know you. You did what you had to."

You stared at him with pity. Joel didn't understand anything. He wasn't there with you, he wasn't you. That moment when you lost control, when you acted on instinct, when your dark side took over, and the knife you had in your hand entered the body of that man smoothly. You woke up feeling like you could feel his warm blood on your hands again. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"I'm not safe, Joel. I'm not safe for you and Ellie." your voice became automatic, as if you were saying a memorized line "What if I do the same to you? I snapped! I snapped and lost control and..."

"You were saving Tommy, for God's sake!" strong hands grabbed your shoulders and Joel gently shook you to come to your senses "When I met you, you were already protecting Ellie. I know you would never hurt her, or me. It's this world, it's brought it all out in you, but it's not the real you."

"Bullshit..."

"Believe me, I'd like to take it all away from you, carry it for you. But I can't. The only thing I can do is be with you, take care of you, love you and..." he stopped as his brain realized what words had left his mouth. He had never said that before. 

God! He couldn't remember the last time he told someone he loved them, maybe in his previous life. He had always been hopeless with feelings, he couldn't name them like some people, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. His body was full of emotions, and you had added a few more that he could barely handle. And now you were staring at him with a mixture of fear and not understanding a word he had said. 

Joel took a deep breath. "I love you." He repeated. "I have loved you for a long time. I should have told you before, not now that you... Fuck." another precious breath. "I love you. And I know what you are. What your head says isn't true, that's not the real you. You shield and protect, baby. You care for others, you love and support. You saved Ellie, me and my brother. You protect our family."

Your brain must have analyzed his words for a long moment, because you were staring at him completely stunned. Only after a long moment of silence did you speak. "You can't love me, Joel. You're wrong..."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, smiling. "If I'm truly certain of anything in life, it's what I feel, sweetheart."

"But-"

"There's no 'but' here. I know perfectly well what I am, but I also know what I've become since you've been with me. And I care about you, so please, come back to bed with me."

His words must have finally reached you, because you gave in to him and got up from the floor. Joel led you back to the bed, and after a moment you were lying in his arms again. The warmth emanating from his body was pleasant, you felt safe and good. His fingers gently stroked your shoulder, and his chest rose with a steady breath. Hundreds of thoughts were racing through your head.

"Will you help me forget?"

"What?" he asked, a little surprised by your quiet question.

"Help me forget, please, Joel. I know you can..."

So he did what you asked him to do. He slowly took off your shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin tenderly. He felt under his fingers the scar you had on your side, he kissed that place too. The panties you were wearing also landed on the floor. You clumsily reached for the edge of his shirt. 

Joel's broad shoulders and chest were something you adored, but at that moment he didn't give you time to admire him. His lips found yours, kissing you tenderly, his tongue slipped inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. The next thoughts flew out of your head, one after another. 

The tenderness with which he touched and caressed you was extraordinary, and at the same time delicate. If you hadn't asked him to help you forget, he would probably have given himself more time, but in that case you couldn't wait. He spread your thighs with his knee and settled between them.

"I don't want it to hurt..."

"It won't. And even if it does, I don't care."

You took his cock at the base, stroked it and rubbed the head against your entrance a few times. Joel closed his eyes, sighing quietly. With one, not even strong, movement of his hips, he pushed the tip into you, and you closed your eyelids. Warm walls wrapped around him tightly as he went deeper and deeper. Until the very end. Delicate hands stroked his shoulders as he tried to get used to this feeling. You had made love so many times, but every time Joel felt delight when he entered you.

Finally, he lifted himself up on his forearms and looked at your face, the face he loved so much, the face he was afraid to lose.

"I love you so fucking much." he said quietly.

You smiled. "I love you too, more than you can imagine."

He started moving. One thrust after another, your quiet moans filled his ears, your nails dug into his shoulders and back. But Joel didn't stop, if you wanted to forget he wanted to help you with that. 

And he didn't stop until you fell apart in his arms, until you arched in the pleasure he gave you. Every shiver you made, every sigh - it all felt like a declaration of love. Love you were a symbol of.

And when you fell asleep exhausted in his arms, he stroked your soft skin for a while longer, kissed your forehead, drew from your warm body. He repeated to himself that no matter what happened he would do everything to keep you safe, because he couldn't lose another loved one. And you were his whole life.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[jaytalking]

Spoilers for the fop: a new wish ending.

TW for vague-ish allusions to child abuse/neglect

(I've never written for Tumblr before. Go easy on me.)

----

His interrogator is a child.

Timmy had started to think today was just not his day somewhere in between "coming home from vacation to an invaded Fairy World" and "Being captured by anti-fairies minutes away from the chip and tied to a chair with iron chains". Dale Dimmadone and fucking Foop (Irep. Oh who cares.) of all people being his captors had been the confirmation.

Now there's a child with sunglasses scowling at him, and he's just bracing himself for whatever this damn day throws at him next.

"Why didn't you talk?"

Timmy considers the question for about 5 seconds before deciding he doesn't care enough to weave a lie.

"Fairies can't break the rules, not directly. It applies to revealing secrets too, not my fault they couldn't figure it out."

"But you're not a fairy, the nets didn't work on you, only iron seems to have some kind of effect."

He gives the kid a wry smile. "Burning sting" was definitely An effect.

"Not that hard to figure out; once-human, means exactly what you think it means. So yeah, Maybe I just don't want to give that idiot answers, considered that?"

The kid gives him an angry look, Timmy just raises an eyebrow.

"Don't call my dad an idiot. Do you even know who he is? He seemed to know you, that's for sure."

"Did he ever tell you about a lemonade factory? I pulled him out of there, I knew THAT Dale. Whoever the golden-toothed asshole outside is he's not anyone I care to know, that's for sure."

The kid looks somehow angrier, Timmy continues undeterred.

"I do want to know your name at least, I'm getting tired of calling you "kid" in my head."

"You first."

"Smart. It's Timmy, Timmy T-... Fairywinkle-Cosma."

He's not surprised to feel a spark of recognition from the kid, the sunglasses hide his face but for the average fairy any emotion, especially a kid's, is as visible as ever. What he IS surprised to see is a curl of dread.

"Dev. Dev Dimmadone- why don't you just give up? We've got all the fairies under nets, the chip is gone so they can't do magic anyways, and you're in chains with no way to escape. Dad even offered you-"

"There's nothing he could offer that would make me give up on my family."

There's... a picture, that's starting to be painted in Timmy's mind, and he doesn't like one bit of it; Dev must be the kid Irep used to accomplish this plan, there's no other explanation for the kid being here and knowing so much about fairies otherwise. Dev is a Godkid. Dev is Peri's Godkid-

"What about letting your family go? Would that be enough?"

"... You don't know anything, do you?"

He might have put too much venom in those words by the way the kid visibly flinches and goes silent, but in that moment he doesn't care.

"Do you know what happens when a fairy doesn't grant wishes? Their magic begins to build up, bit by bit- it gets harder to breathe, to do anything without feeling absolutely horrible- and then they're gone, just like that. Without the Big Wand, without the ability to grant wishes, that's what awaits all of them- all of US. Your dad is a short-sighted idiot who doesn't realise I'm not exempt from this- so even if I did tell him how to become like me, he'd have the exact same fate. We'd both be dead and the Anti-fairies would have a grand ol' laugh about it."

"Irep-"

"Irep doesn't care about you. I don't give a damn what he told you, but it's obvious he kept you in the dark about basically all of this and now he's off to do the same to Dale. You need to accept you've been used, kid."

Dev is quiet, eyes fixed on the floor. Timmy's anger deflates slightly; the true mastermind here is Irep, he should reserve his anger for him, not for the kid he strung along.

"... He told me it would make him proud."

The question leaves his mouth before his mind can process it.

"Would that be enough? To justify all of this?"

Something has snapped, an echo of the ignored child who wished so badly his parents would pay more attention and was called selfish for it, who lashed out and wanted more, more, and more to fill a bottomless hole in his heart, felt vindicated when the truth was made evident: that love and attention is not a damn privilege, it's the right of any child.

"It wouldn't, and it wouldn't last for long. You know this, we both know this."

Dev is shaking. Timmy clams his mouth shut. He's shaking and his grip on the iron key is tight.

"There's no way they'll forgive me."

And he has to laugh at that, a short burst cut off by the pain of the chains moving and reaching new skin.

"That's the worst part- they always do. And before you even realise you're in the wrong."

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.

Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!

He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"

Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."

"That implies that you're planning on leaving."

Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."

Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."

Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."

The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"

Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."

Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.

...damn it.

***

First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.

The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.

He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.

The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.

The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.

Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.

The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.

The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581

[fireheartpages]

never planned on | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter one series masterlist summary: you never planned on being a rider, and you certainly hadn’t planned on the grinning boy from tail section that weaseled his way into your day to day. word count: 2.9k notes: second person pov, reader uses she/her pronouns, has a nickname (i love dirty dancing) and a last name bc i want this to be readable. mentions of (reader’s) death, canon typical violence, you’re kinda mean to bodhi but it’s justified. i wasn’t really planning on writing any more of this tbh, but then i was listening to mastermind by taylor swift and i was like “oh this is so baby and bodhi” and then i was like okay yeah im writing more bc i literally could not stop thinking about them. i really wanted to end it where i had in the last chapter though, but i had so many ideas it felt unjust to leave them hanging, so i decided this is gonna be a sort of multi part series. this can be read as its own series, but i recommend reading the other part for development purposes :)

There were moments that were mean to test you, and moments that were meant to break you.

Your life, so far, had been full of these moments.

You had never planned to be a rider. Never really saw yourself on the back of a dragon, flying and jumping and falling like it was second nature. Never saw yourself handling things like the parapet or the Gauntlet with ease. You sought information, sought knowledge. Truthfully, you’d never really seen yourself going to Basgiath in the first place.

But when your father had run to the outskirts of the Tyrrendor province and left your mother to fend for herself during a historic rebellion, you had made a vow never to be as cowardice as he was.

Basgiath didn’t charge tuition, but not everyone had the means to pack up and travel hundreds of miles away from home to go study to be a glorified librarian. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you accepted the funds to be sent to the college with one condition and one goal.

The condition: Navarre would send you from the little town on the edge of the cliff side on Tyrrendor’s southernmost coastline to Basgiath if you would join the riders quadrant. The war effort needed fighters, and the Tyrrish had the most to prove. Or to apologize for.

The goal: to find out if your mother’s name was on the death roll.

So, fine. You were quick on your feet, could throw a decent punch, and weren’t terrible with a bow or a dagger. You could, with the right training, and an insane amount of luck, make your way through your education.

You never planned on being a rider, but you would do it if it meant you could get away from your dad. Prove yourself as something more than he ever could be. And find out if your mother was alive or dead.

You were at Basgiath three days before you read the death roll, your finger finding her name, your heart crawling its way up your throat as you stared at the parchment.

You hadn’t heard of separatists’ kids before going to Basgiath, and you were surprised to see the winding black swirls of the relics that marred each of them. It was a surprise, to say the least, and you were more than a bit concerned as to why you didn’t have one. Your mother had been executed for being a part of the rebellion, and yet you were a spared the horrors of everything the other kids had gone through. But it didn’t feel like a relief. It felt like that one word you had been running from: coward.

You toed the line of cowardice, unsure of who you could admit your history to. You hadn’t told anyone in your squad, not yet. You were certain anyone who wasn’t Tyrrish wouldn’t understand, and anyone who wore the rebellion relic would see you for what you are, or just resent you for it.

Suddenly, the saving grace of the riders quadrant turned into your doom.

You never planned on being a rider, and you certainly hadn’t planned on the grinning boy from Tail section that weaseled his way into your day to day.

He was all smiles and eagerness to help, laced with quick thinking and brutal efficiency. He was kind, too kind. Bringing you a balm to soothe the aching skin of your hands in a cold you’d never experienced in Tyrrendor. The cracking and bleeding on your hands was sure to be your downfall, until Bodhi Durran had offed you an olive branch, and practically gotten you through the latter half of your first year at Basgiath.

The sight of his rebellion relic had twisted your stomach in a knot. And then you got to know him. Started to fall for him. Found out that he was observant, and overly kind, and willing to put himself on the line if it meant helping someone else. Found that his skin was really soft, and that he could turn the knots in your stomach into butterflies when you watched one side of his mouth curve before the other, as if being pulled by an invisible string. Found you really, really wanted to know what ran through his mind when he looked at you like that. Found you couldn’t help yourself from running your thumbs along the lips that shaped that smile just for you.

Maybe it was a bad idea to open up the way you found yourself wanting to. Maybe Bodhi Durran was a bad idea. But also, maybe for a moment, maybe for more than a moment, Basgiath War College had become more than the death sentence you had assumed it would be. Maybe it had become a second chance.

And then you developed your signet.

Suddenly, more than your education and training was a death sentence. It was every teacher, every student, every secret that was meant to be your doom.

You hadn’t even considered it. Being an inntinnsic. It didn’t even seem in the realm of possibility. If you had to wager a guess, you’d have thought you would have a physical signet. Maybe a fire wielder, or maybe you could have a signet that made you remember everything you read. If that was a thing. Retrocognition would have been cool. Or illusions.

But then you heard it. Dain Aetos’ voice in your head as if he had spoken out loud, and it had taken all of your willpower, and counselling from your dragon to stay calm. Shocair had diffused the tension in you and gotten you somewhere safe, but even she couldn’t save you from an execution.

Every waking moment seemed to bring more stress and panic.

You weren't safe anymore. Every conversation, every look from someone had you convinced you were going to be found out. Every breath you took might be your last. You'd spent quite a few nights in the flight field, curled around a meager fire under Shocair's wing, just to have a moment of quiet. Of peace inside your own mind.

It was noise all the time. Every class, every conversation,

You would have given anything at this point to go back in time and change something—yourself, your mind, anything—to change the outcome of your signet.

You considered just turning yourself in a handful of times. Just walking up to Professor Carr and confessing. He probably wouldn’t even give you a warning before you were dead. It sounded peaceful. Shocair was adamantly against this.

Everything is exhausting now. Classes, training, all of it. If you knew how to use the signet, how to read the thoughts you hear as predictions instead of distracting clatter, you might be good at sparring. But all it does is serve as a block, a sledgehammer in your brain until you yield during challenges without putting up much of a fight. Everyone was going to figure it out, they had to. It was obvious something had shifted with you. You were just good enough at hiding this particular secret so that no one knew what.

It was all exhausting. All of it. From waking up and mentally preparing yourself to face the day, to dodging questions about why you were heading out to the flight field after dark. You were playing mental gymnastics just to get yourself from point A to point Z, and it was taking a toll.

There was one relief. Shocair was there to walk you from waking to sleep, through anxiety and panic attacks and interruptions and interactions. You were fairly certain that the only reason you got any sleep at night was because she was there.

You had never wanted to be a rider. Never pictured it for yourself. But you didn’t see another option anymore. You couldn’t imagine a you without Shocair. There was no going back, just through. You didn’t know what the other side of this looked like, but you were facing it. You hadn’t stepped towards it yet, but you were going to. Eventually. If you could stay alive.

It was the dead of night, and you were freezing, and the fire you had next to you was doing little to thwart the cold. It was one of those nights when other people’s thoughts were plaguing you, making it impossible for you to sleep, let alone take a full breath. No one ever thinks to shield in the safety of their room. Not that most first years were very adept at shielding.

But the flight field is quiet. You weren’t sure if Shocair was just really good at keeping her shields up after the development, or if your signet ability just didn’t extend to dragons, but either way, being tucked under her wing with a meager fire is peaceful, even if you’re still very, very cold.

You were just dozing off then a low rumble shook you awake. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought it was an earthquake, but it was just—

Shocair. And if she’s growling, she’s growling at something. Or someone.

You shoot up, shaking any lingering sleep from your brain as you make to leave the confines of her wing, but she doesn’t allow it. Doesn’t lift the protection to let you assess the situation.

“Shield,” Shocair says into your mind. “Now.”

There are voices, low, male, angry. And you’re panicking.

But there are no thoughts. Not until—

Daggers with weird makings, a mountainous region you were unfamiliar with, and two faces you did recognize.

Xaden Riorson, and Garrick Tavis.

You hear it.

“Is that—what the hell? We have to—”

Hear is a bad word for what your abilities show you, but you lack the proper understanding to explain it. Not that anyone is asking, and not that you’ll ever gain the understanding. You make do with what you have.

Another flash—gryphons and fliers. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, if she finds out about the rebellion—”

“Put your shields up,” someone hisses, Xaden, you’re pretty sure.

“What?” someone else asks, and—oh, you recognize that voice—and the noise inside your mind quiets.

“Shocair! Let me out!”

“I will not put you in danger.”

“You need to trust me to handle myself.” You almost stomp your foot, frustration boiling to the surface as a last line of defense, simply the tip of the iceberg that is everything in your brain at present, but you weren’t about to take it out on Shocair. Not when you couldn’t have survived a day without her.

You felt the hesitation down the bond as she begrudgingly lifted her wing, revealing you and your measly fire. You’re faced with three men—Xaden, Garrick, and Bodhi as your heart attempts to take flight out of your chest.

“Baby?” Bodhi asks, all of his attention trained on you, sans that smile you loved so much.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Xaden asks—demands—using the wingleader voice. Shocair lowers her head, a low growl escaping from her as she bares her teeth in a snarl. Xaden is unfazed, but Bodhi and Garrick have the good sense to at least glance at her with reverence.

“Do not answer that. You are not his to command,” Shocair tells you.

“He’s my wingleader,” you respond to her, then to Xaden, “I’m not—”

But another growl, angrier with a puff of steam this time, crawls out of Shocair. You wince.

“Tell him.”

“Shocair would prefer I didn’t answer that,” you say.

Xaden sighs, and glances up to Shocair, who is still snarling at him, then back to you. “Anything I need to be concerned about?” He sounds tired, and a little wrung out, and you really can’t blame him.

The way he looks at you makes a shiver run down your spine. And not in a fun way.

“No,” you say. “Nothing. I just sleep out here some nights.” Another growl, and you clamp down on the urge to roll your eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Xaden narrows his eyes at you, but it’s more in a that’s-the-weirdest-thing-I’ve-ever-heard way, and not in a you’re-hiding-something way. Relief is a palpable thing.

“Get to bed,” he says with an assessing gaze. “Or, whatever it is you’re doing. At least make it back to dorms in the morning and pretend like you slept there. I’ve heard your wingleader can be strict about curfew.”

You roll your eyes, but smile despite yourself. “Yes, sir,” you toss out.

Xaden motions to Garrick and Bodhi behind him, and Garrick makes to leave, following him. Bodhi loiters behind, casting you an assessing glance.

“I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“Bodhi—”

“Go.” He turns his full attention to you, but there’s no hint of your favorite smile. Only curiosity, and a bit of apprehension.

“You sleep out here?” he asks.

You nod. “It’s peaceful. Safe.”

His brow furrows, concern lacing through his features. “You don’t feel safe in your dorm? Did something happen?”

“No,” you answer quickly. “Just, you know. Unbonded cadets. Stuff like that.”

Bodhi nods slowly, but it’s obvious he doesn’t believe the flimsy lie. “You’ve been…” he begins, and it’s obvious he’s choosing his words carefully, “distant. Lately. I feel like I haven’t seen you much.”

Well, if that doesn’t hit you like an anvil to the chest. “I don’t mean to be,” you say. Even though you do. You wish you weren’t. You have to be.

“How are your hands?” Bodhi asks, glancing down to where they are balled at your side. You had been wearing your gloves more often, since riding and the colder winter months had you going through the little tins of balm too often. You couldn’t ask Bodhi for more.

“Okay,” you say. It’s a lie. They are so, so painful. Every day is a cacophony of physical and mental pain, and with the cold weather, the joint pain had settled in.

“Do you need more of the balm?” he asks.

You had expected Shocair to butt in by now, but when you chance a glance behind you, she’s settled her head back into the grass, golden eyes half shut.

“No, it’s okay. You really don’t have to go through the trouble—”

“I don’t mind,” Bodhi says quickly. “I want to.”

“Okay,” you say. You can’t help the smile that wiggles out of where you were suppressing it. “I guess I can’t say no to you.”

The statement was meant as a joke, a light and airy tension diffuser. It doesn’t come out like that though. There’s more truth in it than you would care to admit. It settles between you, the admission pulled taught like a rope tied to each of your ribs, bringing you into one another’s gravity.

“Let me walk you back to the dorm.”

Oh, maybe you can say no to him. But it might break your heart in two.

“I’m gonna stay out here tonight,” you say, then, as if your tongue had a mind of its own, “I’m sorry.”

“How often do you sleep out here?” he asks, and it’s real, genuine concern in every fold and crease of him. Your pulse picks up.

“Sometimes,” you answer noncommittally.

He steps closer to you, and now you’re in each other’s space as if that rope had dragged you in. He reaches for your hand, and you let him take it. You stare at his mouth, because, holy shit, you want to know what his lips taste like so bad.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His gaze is on where he’s turning your hand over so it’s palm up and resting in his own.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

Bodhi screws up his nose, and it’s an adorable gesture that just about stops your heart for all the wrong reasons.

“You’ve just been so—” He sighs. “You’re so reclusive, and you’re pushing everyone away.” He goes to the buckle of your gloves, as if to pull them off and test your lies for himself, and suddenly it’s all too much. “I’m worried about you.”

You snatch your hand away. “You don’t know me well enough to be worried about me.”

You regret the words as soon as they’re in the air between you. The expression on his face—the confusion, the hurt— is enough to make you want to fall to your knees and beg forgiveness.

“And whose fault is that?” he asks. There’s no malice in his voice. It’s a real, genuine question.

You don’t answer.

“Have a good night, Baby,” he says, and he turns to walk away. This time, he didn’t say your name the way he usually did. It was a brand now. Not the affectionate honorific it usually came out as.

Your face is screwed up as you drop to the ground, your knees finding purchase in the grass and dirt as your breathe saws out of you. You can’t get enough air, and finally, your vision goes dark.

Not your vision, just the stars. Shocair’s wing is around you again, blocking out the world around you. She’s silent as you try to weather the panic, but there’s no use. It’s consuming you.

“Breathe,” she says, her voice a comforting presence in your mind. “You must breathe.”

“I’m trying,” you send back to her, unable to form the words verbally.

There’s some light let in, and then her giant nose is at your chest. You hear her inhale, and feel her exhale. She does it again.

You match your own breath to hers.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

[alientee]

Shimmer Head

Ekko x reader

6k+ words

Fem reeader

Hazbin hotel Easter egg included. Addicted song describes reader.

Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions, drug use not by choice though.

Im sorry it took so long yall I’ve been crocheting blankets for Christmas and life has been lifting with work

You were an anomaly, or at least that’s what Silco called you. Apparently he saved you at birth; one calm walk through Zaun's lanes, and your mom was an overdosing shimmer head who was getting her last fix before she pushed you out. You survived. This was something Silco never thought possible; even when you looked like a shivering, whining skeleton, you were strong, a survivor, and from that day on, you were his daughter.

As life went on, you got stronger, faster, and a little more insane; your eyes changed, looking like a wild mix of two different colors. You changed so much it confused you every day to see yourself. How the voices in your head would go from telling you to slaughter everyone to offing yourself.

Silco had you microdosed with shimmer ever since you were a newborn till now, and you handled it each and every time. You were his creation, his wild card. Even as a child, he had you by his side with torture, robbing, and meetings. You’ve done it all. There were days the voices really did get to you; sometimes it was better to hurt yourself rather than to crash. You can remember the times Silco had to stop you from hurting him and yourself. The scars on your arms, the bloodstains left on your clothes, the burn scars from throwing bone down without any care, ready to give it all up. Either you survived, or Silco was just in time.

So when you first met Jinx, your first thoughts were, This poor kid, she’s just a dreamer.

But she followed you around everywhere, calling you sis, saying she’d never leave your side, she’d never leave you no matter what. Not like her sister did. You didn’t believe her; how could you? No one but Silco ever saw you; he’s the only one that loved you.

Until she followed you to a club one night.

You spin around in the chair, listening to the grungy punk music, drunk, horny prowlers, angry wannabes, and goofy dancers mixing into the crowd. You sit in your chair in the corner of the club, drink in one hand, revolver in the other. One bullet, one drink—it was all a game to you. The gun clicked three times, and you took three shots before it was snatched from your hand. And lo and behold, it was your new shadow coming to ruin the fun.

“Hey, what gives, Blue Jay!”

“How are you going to be the big shot legacy Silco says if you're dead, dumbass!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“We’re family now, so yeah, you are!”

“You going to love me even if I try to kill Silco in his sleep?”

“I’d still love you even if you killed me with him.”

Family, huh?

“Fine.”

For the first time you didn’t take your game too far, or get fucked up and pass out behind the bar; you didn’t even have a mental breakdown.

At least the voices got quiet for a while.

After a while you started to think of Jinx as a sister. Someone you could confide in, someone who gets you. Was Silco the best dad? Nah, but he was all you had. Now you know he had Jinx too. You thought everything was ok; you could be happy with your found family; even if you were broken, you still had people to fix you up, so everything was fine.

At least you genuinely believed everything was alright.

Until Jinx’s actual sister showed up, calling her Powder, the hugging, the crying, the family reunion was cute. You haven’t seen Jinx this vulnerable in a while. Everything was calm until some Piltie came out, and then the moment was gone. Jinx threatens the redhead with the gun, and boom, the Firelights had you all surrounded.

“Jinx, if you want your sister back, you gotta be smart about this.” The silence you got back let her know she was thinking up something stupid.

Smoke and ash covered the air, bullets flying and fighting at every turn. The firebugs just didn’t know when to quit, always trying to get into business that isn’t theirs. It was fun knocking them off their boards every once in a while. You’ve faced them before with Jinx killed a couple of times; you didn’t kill any of them, though. Never had the guts to really kill innocent people; you didn’t want to know what the voices would say if you did. You didn’t want to lose yourself all the way.

As always, Jinx is shooting bullets every which way in the sky, which wasn’t bad, but using bombs to blow up the platform is very bad. Your body hurt, your ears were ringing, and you could barely breathe. You tried calling out for Jinx but got no answer. You finally dragged yourself up; you can see some fire bugs down, but you couldn’t see Jinx. Couldn’t see her sister. Didn’t even see the body lying dead somewhere.

Huh, you were all alone.

Then it dawned on you: Jinx did it on purpose. She really was a genius, truly. She blew up the platform, making a distraction; a lot of people were down and out. Nobody could see what was happening; some too injured to chase.

Looks like she could only carry her sister to safety, though.

You’ll never leave me no matter what, huh?

Hehehehehe, yeah right!

You could finally breathe again and got the strength to stand up. It was all just so funny, really.

Bunch of bullshit hahahahaha

You didn’t notice anything going on around you, the shuffling of people standing; you didn’t feel all the cautious eyes on you. Not that you cared; all you cared about were the voices screaming at you so loud you could swear your ears were bleeding.

Walking towards the edge of the platform is easy. Turning around and giving a mock salute to the firelights with a smile on your face was easy. But dropping to your death knowing the last thing playing in your headphones was your and Jinx's song, it fucking burned every lyric you tried to sing just turned to ash in your mouth.

But at least now the voices would stop forever. The air rushed through your ears and then nothing.

Out like a light

You woke up in an eerily dark room; honestly, it was predictable. Down to the moldy smell, the silence, and the creepy guy in the corner with a mask. And you honestly should’ve been more mad at yourself for getting saved; you couldn’t even die in peace!

“Why am I alive, dammit!”

The silence was so annoying; there’s no need to try and be intimidating. You’ve seen worse. You hate people who try those tactics; you can’t torture someone who’s already tortured every day. Geez, just kill them if they don’t tell you what you want.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you shit, so just kill me already!”

And then the mask comes off. You don’t know him, but you knew him, apparently jinx’s past. The boy savior, she calls him; he looks just like she said he would. You also remember what she told you about him. “Better watch out; the boy savior likes to think he can save everybody.”

Ok, you can deal with a wannabe hero.

“Your on shimmer. You are an addict; Slico has you do his dirty work, and he gives you your next fix. Am I right?”

You’re really fucking wrong. Scratch that; you didn’t want to deal with the wannabe hero.

“So how about you tell me what I need to know, and you get to lay low somewhere secret and get off that shit before you try and die again while Silco just replaces you?”

The voices started to get louder, your throat tight and blood dripping from your palms for how tight you started to squeeze them. His words were like acid on your skin. Just who did this asshole think he was?

“First of all, dipshit, I’m his daughter! Ok, not some random street rat shimmer head he feeds. Second of all, shimmer makes people stronger. I should know; came right out of my druggie mom, still living and breathing, full of shimmer! I’ve been injected with it since Silco adopted me! He says I’m perfect; he says I'm his legacy. I don’t do his dirty work; I help him make Zaun better! So you're dead fucking wrong, wannabe!”

Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy…. And you're used to that.

“This is better? Our people are dying all around us. Kids are abandoned! People are sick and starving. How is this better?”

“Blame Piltover! Duh!”

“It’s Piltover. And Silco, are you crazy??!!”

That word. It always did something to you. You didn’t care when people looked at you like you were... but calling you crazy? Different story. Something that made all the voices laugh, an itch in your brain that told you to break, hurt, destroy, kill, and show them your insane.

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! Hahahahahahahahaha. All of Piltover and Zaun is going to burn you, and your fucking bugs are going to be ash! I’m not crazy. I’m perfect. I’m perfect he said”—

Your music!?! Where were your headphones?!!?

You were so numb, in a really dark place, you never fully remembered how your episodes went. When that singed guy injected you with your first microdose of shimmer, all you remembered was the screaming and Silco whispering how proud he was. But Ekko would remember it all even in his dreams. How you banged your head against the pole you were tied against over and over again. Crying tears of shimmer while laughing hysterically until blood dripped on the side of your head. Only to end up sobbing.

The voices screamed and screamed and screamed. Until they stopped, they never just stopped without music or silco. And you never had this heavy feeling over your ears without your headphones.

Oh, it’s this Ekko guy. What is he doing? Why is he holding his hands over your face? Why is he looking at you like that?

“I’m sorry. You’re not crazy. I promise, okay? Breath for me nice and slow.”

This was nice: everything quiet, everything nice and warm. This is new, huh?

“Hey!? Wai”—

Out like a light again

“She’s a danger to the base!”

“We can help her. She’s not like Jinx! She’s the product of a bad situation. She’s not with Silco because she wants to be; it’s because it’s all she knows.”

“She’s a mess; keeping her here is like bringing bullshit to our door!”

“He’s been injecting her with shimmer since she was an infant! We can’t kick her out!”

“Can y'all shut up sleeping here?”

Bat Guy and Ekko just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t care what you do to me; can I just have my damn headphones? The voices, ya know, they’re telling me to escape and kill everyone here. Soooooo, my earphones, pretty please.”

The boy wonder hands them over and puts them over your ears. And even with no music playing, everything feels peaceful. The whole time, he and Bat Boy are still going back and forth; this time you couldn’t hear it, though. Finally you get silence, if only for a moment. You almost bit Ekko when he moved one of them back off.

“Look, let’s compromise: you get a little freedom, supervised. And we get one shimmer shipment location… not the factory, just the shipment.”

“No bullshit babysitters; it’s you or nothing.”

“...fine.”

You could’ve told him to fuck off and die. Make him eat his sappy little words. But after the way he held your ears, he looked like a kicked puppy for making you freak out. How softly he said sorry. It was different; it was new. You didn’t do soft, not that much.Silco always told you to play your enemies, so maybe giving a little bait wouldn’t be too bad.

“Fine, boy wonder, I’ll give you a shipment that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

There he goes, looking at you like that again.

Like some kind of puppy. What a sucker.

Ekko took you outside, but you didn’t want to socialize, so he kept you both at a good distance from the others. While taking you out of the base, you didn’t want to look at anyone. If you saw any leering faces and judging eyes, you knew you’d lash out.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to smack the fuck out of Ekko's face. Maybe a little bit, not a lot. You didn’t know what it was, but Ekko was calming; his presence was like a warmth in the dark murk of Zaun. You didn’t understand how he could be so... normal with all of this around him.

Maybe it was the fact that he actually took you out of the hideout and onto a roof to look over Piltover. You could’ve knocked him out, taken his board, and run. Why is he so stupidly trusting? “How do you do it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” You raise one back “Be so happy-go-lucky when we live in a place like Zaun.” That made him stop his steps, and he looks serious; you haven’t seen him unless he’s talking about shipments.

“I have to make a change for the people who can’t help themselves; I want to give people something to live for; the firelight is my way of doing that.”

And there he goes again, making your mind feel funny again. It sounds like he means it; everything Ekko says always sounds genuine, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to believe him.

“Alright then, help me by teaching me how to ride one of those hoverboard things.” Ekko’s eyes get wide, and his mouth even opens a little. “You want to learn? I’ve been trying to get you to do that for a week. What changed?” You didn’t want to let him know the real reason, so you decided to play it off.

“Just thought I could kick your butt at something, boy wonder,” he scoffed. You knew he hated the nickname; it was too fun teasing him to stop, though.

“Alright, alright. If you’re so confident, then I’ll teach you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up falling off a few times.”

“I’ll be a pro; just you wait and see.”

You were in fact not a pro. Your knees were scuffed, and the dirt on your clothes was a testament to just how many times you hit the dirt. “Sorry this is taking so long; I feel fucking stupid.” Ekko grabs your hands and pulls you up, grabbing the board. “Don’t; it takes everyone a minute to learn this is no different. How do you think I feel? I made it; I had to test it and fall a lot.” You give him a nod, deciding to take the board back with a little more confidence this time. “What a boy genius you are,” you got a snort in return.

“Now, remember, hoverboards are pretty sensitive. You have to find your balance and keep it steady. And be careful not to lean too far to one side or the other, or you’ll tip over.” Ekko watches you carefully as you mount the hoverboard, his arms crossed over his chest. The hoverboard begins to move forward as you lean, slowly at first, but steadily gaining speed.

You could hear Ekko yelling behind you, “There you go, you’re doing great! Just keep your balance and focus on the path ahead.”

“What about turns!? What if I fall??”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You got the hang of it after a while; you both went back to the base riding your hoverboard and even racing some of the kids. It was a good time, no responsibilities, no expectations. It still hurt you; there was no Silco, but at least you had distractions.

Ekko seemed to show up when he wasn’t asked; it’s like he knew when to butt into people's business.

He was there during your worst moments of loneliness. When the darkness was too much, when the voices kept repeating the insults louder and crueler. Telling you to kill yourself, that you're nothing, worthless, not good enough, burn the firelight base to the ground, and watch everyone around you die. You’ll only end up alone anyway. The smell of ash and blood, you could remember it by heart. Tears pouring out of your eyes continuously, you didn’t even sob. You had nothing to be sad about in the moment. You just naturally cried, and all you could do was scream, hoping I’d stop. Sitting in the dark waiting for it all to end. Thinking, hoping that just maybe one day you’d be blessed enough not to wake up.

It wasn’t until you felt Ekko's heavy gloves on your shoulder. Asking if you were ok, if you needed anything, if you needed him. Looking at you like you're the only thing that mattered in the moment. Moving to sit next to you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. “You don’t have to talk; just know I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” Those days were hard, but it always felt nice to have Ekko lying on the floor next to you, no words, just his company.

He even let you into his little workshop. His words: “You don’t have to knock. If you need me, just come in” You’d hand him his tools and use all the knowledge you had on tech to help. You used to make a lot of trinkets that helped your day-to-day life. You didn’t like to make weapons like Jinx, but you could make a mean bomb. You’ve even fallen asleep to his tinkering and his little nerd-out moments. “You're such a dork.” He wouldn’t even take his eyes off his invention.

“Shush if you're not going to help.”

“Touchy touchy. Here, let me look, boy genius.” When you actually put in effort to help him, he’d look at you from the side of his eye, and you’d pretend like you didn’t notice the small smile creeping up on his face. Sitting by his side until late at night, making new things to help out in the base. Both your giggles and the metal clanking were the only things heard at 3 am.

And that’s how it was for a month. Ekko is coming in, trying to coax you into giving up Silco; you give him a little info, and he folds and gives you what you want for the day. You had a good thing going. So why’d he want to ruin it now? You were fine seeing the kids; you made small talk with one of the firelight girls, but that’s it. Everyone else you dealt with in passing. So why was Ekko so set on you interacting with more people?

“How about we hang out with the group for a bit?”

“I’m fine; I hate people.”

“Look, I’m just trying to—“

“I don’t need help! I don't need friends! I—I need my dad; I need…. I need to feel in control. It still feels like I’m a fucking prisoner even if you say I’m not.

Ekko doesn’t talk for a minute; you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely, his white locs covering his face. “I don’t know what you see in Silco, even if he took you in…. You can’t tell me you truly see the good in what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer him. Afraid you’ll say something you’ll regret by lashing out. He didn’t get it; he didn’t get you! Silco was your dad; Silco helped you ignore the voices; he loved you even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“He’s not the best dad in the world, but he’s my dad. He helped me when I had no one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Ekko didn’t answer you; it’s like he wanted to argue, but he knew you needed this.

“Just... just give it a chance; you may find your people.”

If he heard your scoff, he didn’t react to it.

I don’t have people; all I have is my dad and myself, even when I don’t love myself.

Ekko’s soft words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You have me too.”

“Until how long, hmmm, till I run out of information?”

“That’s no—“

“Hey, Ekko, tell me how I survived the day I jumped.”

Ekko went back silent; he was giving you that look again, and you hated it. It’s like he saw everything within you, and it made you feel naked, like you couldn’t hide.

“Oh that… flew down to save you.”

“Why?”

“When you smiled at us before you fell, I thought you were asking for help.”

You giggled at that; only Ekko would think of saving his enemy who tried to off themselves in front of him. “Your something else, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower!? What kind of flower is that? We don’t have those in Zaun.”

“Alright, take me out or whatever it is you want.”

“D-don’t say it like that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

You never knew Zaun could look like this, or even have a tree, and now the name firelights makes sense: nothing but a lush green tree with the fireflies all around it. It’s peaceful, plush; it’s nice. You got a few looks here and there, but it’s fine; ekkos here, and you weren’t forced to hang out with who you didn’t want to.

And that’s how you spent your day bonding with Ekko and even the kids; they weren’t as judgy, and you appreciated it. Even when they had questions, it didn’t feel pointed. “Why do you always wear those things on your head?” your headphones; you never took them off, never could bring yourself to part from the one thing that helps stop the voices, no matter how battered and dingy they are. “They’re headphones. They help me when I’m scared or upset.” “Oooooh, I get it; my mask helps me! Makes me feel stronger!” “Good, use your strength to become the best firelight you can be.”

That’s how the day started and ended: you playing with the kids, running around, playing tag and hide and seek until the night came. The kids gathered around, using common objects around them to make a little band; music brings a lot of the firelights together, and somebody brings an actual scrap-made speaker playing louder music. Some even start to dance. And in this moment you couldn’t help but think maybe Ekko was right; maybe these people were ok.

You grab the overworking leader by the arm and pull him with you. “What is it?”

“Come on, Ekko, let’s dance!”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, you scared boy wonder?“

“Not at all, but um… why?”

“Who doesn’t like dancing!”

That’s when the music hits and nothing else matters. Ekko moves effortlessly, his body flowing in perfect harmony with yours. He keeps you close, his chest pressed against yours as he twirls you around. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your body’s moving in rhythm as the music gets Ekko pulls you closer, one hand resting on your waist while the other takes hold of your hand, spinning you. He begins to sway gently, guiding you in a slow dance. Holding each other’s sides, swaying back and forth. Every minute you got to look in Ekkos's eyes, seeing him smile at you like that did something to you; he really was something else.

You couldn’t let those eyes shake you, though. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all went to hell; no one really gives a damn about you, no one except Silco. But maybe if you were a better daughter, he would’ve found you by now.

Ekko could only look at you in confusion when you walked away from him, away from the gathering. He thought it was a good moment that he was finally getting through to you. But he wasn’t one to push, not when he knew what you’d been through, but he followed you up the stairs to the treehouse.

And when he found you, the silence was heavy but comfortable. That’s how it was with you too, and you’d never say it out loud, but he made you feel safe.

“Do you want to stay here?”

You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” you looked away, closing your eyes, trying to stop yourself from getting out of hand. Ekko hummed, leaving more silence in between you both, and then he asked another, “Even if you know Silco loves you, it isn’t healthy.”

You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share.

“My mother was a shimmer addict; she had me right as she overdosed. And Silco found me; I was different; I survived even with a small, premature body full of shimmer. He said I was unique, that I could change all of Zaun. I believe him. I’ve done a lot of great things… at least I think so. Even if you don’t agree with him, he saved me.

“But you're not okay—

“Don’t tell me what I am! I’m perfect as I am; he said so! I may not be normal, but I am living instead of surviving, Ekko! Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But you know what else I see? I see how happy you are riding your board; I see how sweet you are with the kids, especially when you steal yarn from the top side and crochet stuff for them; I see how you care for Raven when you think she’s not looking by finding her favorite things to surprise her without letting her know it was you; I see how you truly care for the people you're loyal to. You touch people's lives and leave light in your wake. I see how beautiful you are inside and out. You’re your own person, not what Silcos made you! You can do better than what he has you doing.”

“Is that what you’ve come up with in your mind? That I’m just this lost, misguided girl who was groomed to be fucked up? News flash! Boy Wonder, I’m in Zaun. I was going to be fucked up regardless of Silco! Who do you think I am, huh? Don’t act like you know me, 'cause you don’t! Stop trying to change me into something I’m not! I’m not some knockoff version of Jinx you can fix just because I decided to be nice a few times. What?! I’m your little powder passion project. Couldn’t save her, so you’re trying to save me because we both have family, daddy, and abandonment issues?!”

You knew it was a low blow, but even though she left you, you couldn’t help but think about Jinx’s words, taking them to heart, and everything she told you. “He likes to think he can save everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at your response; you could see him clenching his fist and clenching his teeth. His eyes no longer looking at you with acceptance or worry like you were used to, only irritation

“I wasn’t trying to change her; I thought she was in danger. I didn’t know she went with that piece of shit willingly…. I thought I could save her; I needed to because she was my friend.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right, you’re the boy savior!”

His eyes went from a glare to cold and lifeless.

“Fuck you. You know nothing; you only know Jinx's pain but not mine. You’re right about one thing, though: you and Jinx are similar. So I don’t know why I was stupid enough to try and help you; just like her, you don’t deserve it.” That just pissed you off more.

“I didn’t ask you to help me! I didn’t ask for you to save me from offing myself! I didn’t ask for you to try and fucking fix me or my life!”

“I’m not trying to change you; I’m trying to give you something better! A chance! Silco didn’t give you a chance; he used you! Your work, a tool! If you survived on shimmer this long since birth, you're proof that his product can lead to something greater than he thought. But it’s at the expense of you and your health.” His voice lowers, his breathing heavy. “Please… tell me you see it. You have to know that keeping you on shimmer as long as he has wasn’t to help you. Only him.”

In the back of your mind you knew; you always knew. And yet the faith he put in you gave your heart love you’ve never felt before. How he always stated he was proud of you, said you were the best thing to happen in his life, that you're his legacy, his daughter. But what was the cost for your heart, suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, nightmares, and dissociation? A mother that never wanted you, a father that loved you but not enough to see your pain, only your potential. “Hey Ekko, thank you. For saving me and making me realize. I don’t want people to end up like me... because I’m not ok.”

“Then let me he“—”. He didn’t get to finish before you pushed back, making him crash into the tree behind him. You jumped from the stairs on the tree; you didn’t care about the fall because it’s the freest you ever felt. You could hear the other fireflies yelling, but the adrenaline and the wind in your ears helped you ignore them. As soon as you fell, you pushed forward, not caring about the pain in your legs and ankles. Grabbing a hoverboard before speeding off and out of the hideout.

When Ekko got up, he didn’t chase you, nor did he call out for you; all he could do was watch. Scar rushed up to him, looking at him expectingly. “She’s going to go back to Silco!? We have to catch her before she rats us out!?” Ekko didn’t react to his words, only looking forward to where you had run. “Ekko!” And when Ekko finally looked at Scar, he just shrugged. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.” “She’s not coming back." Ekko, she’s been waiting for an opportunity to escape, and we let her!”

Ekko just shook his head, picking up something off the ground. “She’ll be back.” “How do you know!?” Ekko moved his hand in front of Scar, showing him what he picked up. “She left her headphones.” Scar just scoffed. “That doesn't mean anything.” Ekko just shook his head. “Trust me, if you knew her like I do, you’d know it meant everything.”

You wandered around one of Silco's biggest shimmer factories, where most of his shipments go. You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth. “I’m addicted to the madness~” You turned on your headphones, singing along, tuning out the noise below, scummy workers and henchmen everywhere. “Let me leave my soul a-burning; I’ll be breathing it in.” Sneaking down through the crawl spaces, you laid out bombs everywhere you could stick them. You set up trap after trap after trap after trap. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was easy to get in and get out.

“I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling~” This place had meaning to you… this was the first place Silco took you when he felt like you were ready to work for him. The first place where he showed you the ropes was the same place he had you start your injections. The same place you had your first breakdown. This felt like a goodbye to the past, the pain, everything that made you feel inadequate. You don’t know what you’d be without Silco; you knew the voices would never fully leave, but at least with this you could let your dad know you were ok and that you were going your own way.

“Just concede and give in to your inner demons again~” You hit the button, and it all blew up—the building, the workers.

And you too. Hopefully, Silco can forgive you for not saying goodbye.

It’s been 3 months; Ekko waited for you to return. But after a while he could only assume you’d either gone your own way or something terrible happened. Missions still happened with no sign of you with Silco's goons, and there’s talk about the huge explosion that happened, so he couldn’t pinpoint what had happened to you; all he had to give him comfort about your departure was your headphones. He never touched them, only keeping them by his bedside with your memory lingering with him whenever there in his sight. But today at 12 am, he finally had the courage to tinker with them, hopefully fixing them up.

He was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear the door open; it was Scar. “Your stray is back,” and as soon as he came, he left.

“Hey sunflower,” he jumped and turned around so quickly you thought he’d fall out of the chair. He did slip a little as he rushed to hug you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

“Missed me?” He squeezed your torso, chuckling a little. “Missed your humor, not your bullshit.” You poked at his side, making him jump. “Lies, you missed that too. Everyone else is boring.

He pulls you over to his patched-up couch, both of you plopping down. You lean into his touch, laying on his shoulder. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t need to. You don’t know what you expected when it came to his reaction. But you’re glad Ekko didn’t pressure you to talk about anything or question what you’d been doing. You’d tell him one of these days. The withdraws, breakdowns, you almost ending it all. But right now you just wanted to enjoy his company; being alone for months took its toll, so it’s good to be back in a warming presence.

It took everything in you to not go back to Silco, to everything that was easier. But you pulled it off, and you hope Ekko could see that you really are trying. “Was it you?” He spoke so softly you thought you just imagined it, but Ekkos looking into your eyes let you know it was real. And you knew what he meant; your explosion was nothing but destruction, but you wanted to leave that behind you. So you said the only thing that was closest to the truth. “I’m following my own path now, Ekko.” When you looked back at him, it almost took your breath away. Those stupid, big, brown eyes looking at you with so much warmth you could’ve melted right then and there. It made you sick.

“I’m happy for you... So you’re just visiting?”

“Geez, trying to kick me out already, huh?” He shook his head. “Of course not. I just…. I want you to be happy and go your own way, even if it’s not here with me.” You looked away, biting your cheek. “So what if I wanted to be happy here?”.

“Then I’d make a space for you right now; you’re always welcome.”

“Even in your room~”

“Yeah, you can stay with me if you want.”

You felt all your thoughts falter and come to a stop once the words were out of his mouth. You paused and looked at him, face red. “Easy there; we don’t want everyone jealous that the big boss in charge is playing favorites.” He pulls you so close, too close. His nose and forehead touching your own. You don’t know this Ekko, Ekko who always was too shy to flirt back, who was always the gentleman, who only gave fleeting touches like he was afraid to break you. “You are my favorite; you’ll always be someone special to me.” You couldn’t help pushing his buttons, not wanting him to see your face reddening.

“Leaders shouldn’t show favoritism, ya know. I’m going to need something for me to keep quiet; wouldn’t want to hurt the kiddies feelings, would you? out of all the things you expected Ekko to say, you didn’t expect what he’d do.

Ekko leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and tender; the brush of his lips is so soft. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, pouring all of his love and affection into the kiss. He leaned back and smiled warmly as he continued to gently caress your cheek. He looked at you with a soft, affectionate expression, his gaze filled with adoration thatyou’d noticed before. You just never had the guts to call him out on it.

“Is that enough to keep you quiet?”

“It's a start.”

[lanadelnegan]

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

[sanguineterrain]

Idk if you know that scene from friends where Rachel kisses Ross while they're in the laundromat and Ross hits his head on the washer door afterward 😭🩷 it makes me giggle sm. Anyway thinking about that kind of kiss with Spencer. Genius left speechless!

very cute prompt thank u! gn!reader. your kiss surprises spencer—his kiss back knocks the wind out of you.

****

This is an impossible case.

You throw down your files in frustration and rub your temples. "I'm gonna quit and join the circus. I suck at this."

"Hm?" Spencer looks up from his computer. It's just the two of you staying late. The cleaning people have already come and gone. You're both working on a case that's stumped the team for three days.

You're here because you're new and, yes, you need to prove yourself. Spencer's here because... well, you're not actually quite sure why he's here late. He doesn't usually stay. But he'd offered when you said you were going to. His company is certainly welcome.

"This is fucking impossible. I've gone over these lists three times. There's no pattern, no commonalities, nothing! I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Spencer says, getting up and joining you at your desk. He pushes some papers aside and sits on the corner. "Can I see?"

His long fingers brush yours as you pass him the lists. Gloomily, you scratch at your notepad with your pencil.

"Why are you trying so hard on this case?" he asks, fingers tracing the paper as he reads.

"Because I know you guys don't really need me here and I wanna prove that I'm valuable."

Spencer stops reading. "You are valuable."

"You're sweet, Spence."

"No, you are. You're smart. More brains are always better when it comes to this job."

"I think you've got enough brains for all of us," you say, half-smiling.

"Everyone provides skills that I don't. That's why we're a team."

You hum, pushing your pencil around. "Yeah, sure."

"We can figure this out," he says. "Let's think. Okay, no connections with the names or the ages. Gender and race is random. Did you check the locations of their deaths?"

You nod. "Did. No shapes, no nothing. Garcia ran every algorithm she has."

"There's sixty-three names on here. When did these murders start?"

"About nine weeks ago. But not everyone on this list was murdered. Some of them have been long dead. That's what's so confusing," you say. "The police think the killer will round back and kill the rest, but I don't think so."

"I don't either. Which people were killed?"

You circle them in red. Spencer stares at them.

"That's every sixth name. Maybe groups of seven are the key." He points at the second name on the list. "He's a reverend, right?"

You nod. "Yeah, more than one name on here is."

Spencer drums his fingers. "Circle those."

You do. Suddenly, you're struck by something.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as your fingers fly across the keyboard.

"Solomon Grundy."

Spencer leaps off the desk, immediately understanding and just as excited as you. He kneels beside your desk chair and starts highlighting and circling names in different colored pens. Heat emanates from his body, he's so close. You swallow and try not to think about it.

"Reverends Christened on a Tuesday," he says.

"Every third person was married on a Wednesday," you say. "The unsub is following the rhyme!"

You turn to him, mirroring his joy. "We did it!"

"I told you you'd figure it out," Spencer says triumphantly.

"Are you kidding? You brought up the numerical patterns."

Spencer grins at you. "I wasn't even thinking Solomon Grundy! You're the genius, not me."

You roll your eyes. "Aren't you past modesty, Doc?"

"Aren't you?" he shoots back, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. "You're brilliant."

And something about the rush of solving the puzzle, and the way Spencer's smiling at you, open and happy and proud, it makes you impulsive. You see his round, dark eyes, his fluffy curls, and the way his cheek crinkles from his smile, and you do it. You lean in.

Your hands go to his face for a moment, just enough to steady him as you kiss him. You kiss for two seconds, your touch like a breath on his skin. Spencer tastes like the cherry Chapstick you bought him last week.

He shoots up and away, lips parted, eyes wide. You panic.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that—" you begin.

"You, um, you just—okay—"

He turns the wrong way and bumps bodily into the side of your desk. You wince as his thigh crashes into the wood.

"Spencer! Jesus, are you okay?" you ask, beginning to stand.

"Uh-hm," he squeaks out, voice strained. "Yeah, fine." He rubs his thigh in a way that suggests he's very much not fine.

You hover, unsure if you should touch him. You know Spencer doesn't love to be touched without warning.

He leans against your desk. He's not running away screaming, which is a good sign, although he's somewhat incapacitated so maybe he wants to but can't.

You go to your desk drawer and get an instant ice pack, shaking and crushing it.

"No, I'm fine, really—" Spencer insists, but you make him take it anyway. He obediently presses it to his leg.

"I know you bruise easily," you say, chewing your lip. "God, I'm so sorry, Spencer."

"This wasn't your fault. I'm clumsy," he says.

You shake your head, lump in your throat. "You don't have to spare my feelings. I know I shouldn't have kissed you. It was stupid of me."

Spencer presses his lips together and looks down, shuffling the ice pack around. "Oh. I-I mean, we can forget about it, of course. I won't bring it up to anyone. No one will know we kissed."

"No, if you want to tell Hotch and, y'know, have my desk moved or something, I'd understand," you say, more glum than when you couldn't crack the case.

"Wait, what? If I told Hotch?"

You shrug self-consciously. "It was unprofessional, to say the least. I made you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn't."

You look at Spencer. He's looking right back at you, pinning you with those bottomless eyes.

"Did you kiss me because we solved the case?" he asks.

You shake your head. "No. I... I've wanted to kiss you for a long time. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he says softly, and then you're getting kissed back by Spencer Reid.

He kisses like he wants to devour you, and it startles you how voraciously Spencer kisses, like you're a well-loved book whose pages he pores over every time he reads.

You're caught off-guard too by his confidence, those big, chilly hands completely cradling your face. The ice pack tumbles to the floor. Spencer takes the air right out of you, sends lightning up your spine.

"Thought you thought you'd made a mistake," he says against your mouth, in between kisses.

You shake your head. "Didn't." And that's all you both need.

You think you'll stay late more often. You suspect that Spencer will, too. It's incredibly productive.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"

Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."

Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"

Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"

Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."

Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"

Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"

Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."

Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"

Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"

Vaggie: "Twig???"

Husk: "Twink."

Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."

Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"

Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"

Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."

Husk: "Fucking do it."

Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"

Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"

Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"

Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."

Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”

Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"

Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"

Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."

Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"

Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"

Husk: "FUCK."

Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."

Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"

Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."

Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"

Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"

Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"

Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."

Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”

Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”

Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”

Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”

Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”

Angel Dust: “HA!”

Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”

Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”

Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “What?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT”

Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”

Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”

Vaggie: “Oh shit-”

Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”

- meanwhile, in the laundry room-

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP…. Thump………… thump

Alastor: “…”

Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)  

Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”

Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”

Alastor: “Quite.”

Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”

Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)

Alastor: “Fascinating.”

Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-

Cherri Bomb: “…”

Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”

[lunajay33]

Protect Me

•🤎🪵🌲🪨•

Summary: Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl, Sam and Dean always tried to protect you but on one hunt the monster takes you and the after math is bad, so they have to call in John

Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister, Dean Winchester x sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl in this family work, I’m only a year younger than Sam but still I felt like a baby compared to them, when Sam went off to school it was just Dean and me and dad took it hard especially on me, he pushed me to work harder all the time and the pressure became overwhelming

Well now he’s missing and it’s just me and my brothers, driving down the interstate to a new mission, this one was a bit out of my league, vampires, they’re strong and I don’t have as much experience with them as Sam and Dean

“Hey you okay back there, you’re pretty quiet” Dean asks as he looks through the rearview mirror

“Oh yeah just nervous”

“Hey we’ll be there the whole time, nothings going to happen to you sis” Sam smiles as he turns back to me

“Do you think we’ll find dad soon?”

“I don’t know kid, soon I hope”

After a bit more driving we made it to the motel and it was time to do some digging on these vampires as Dean came back with take out for supper

“Can I ask you guys something?” I sigh closing a historic book of the town

“Sure what’s up kid” Dean asks as he chows down on a burger

“Do you think dad left because of me?” They both stopped and gave me their full attention

“Why would you say that?” Sam asks giving me his puppy expression

“Well I’m not as good as Dean and he’s been getting more and more angry with me every mission, maybe he just didn’t wanna deal with me anymore, maybe he finally realized I’m just a burden” my bottom lip trembled finally letting out the feelings I’ve been holding in

“Are you nuts? Dad was only being hard because he wanted to make sure you were safe he loves you”

“Yeah you’re his daughter and he’d never leave us like this because of a few mistakes, don’t worry your little head” Sam reach over the table squeezing my shoulder

“Alright” I sigh going back to reading

•

The next day we gathered our supplies and were off to find them finding their small nest was camped out somewhere in the woods, we got out of the impala on a dirt road, getting our weapons ready

“Okay make sure you stay alert, watch eachothers back” Dean states and we start out into the darkening woods

My heart was beating so fast that’s all I could hear, walking behind Dean with Sam behind me, when a cry comes from up ahead and we’re sprinting towards it carefully but not quiet enough

I feel myself being thrown across the damp forest floor until a tree smashed against my back and I’m crumbling on the ground in pain

“Y/N!” Dean and Sam scream as they run towards me but they stop when I’m pulled up from behind by my throat my feet dangling above the ground

“Dean” I gasp as the air burns in my lungs and my vision blurs

“You leave us alone and leave town” the vampire states

“Oh not a chance we’re gonna kill every single one of you” that only angered it as it took my arm and effortlessly snapped it like a twig, I scream wailing in pain

“I won’t ask again”

“Fine fine we’ll go, just stop hurting her” Sam called out desperate

“If you come back again, she’s dead” the vampire hissed before throwing me to my brothers feet and it was gone

My arm felt like it’s been set on fire, my throat hurt so much I could barely breath, my back felt like a thousand knives had been ripping me open

I whine in pain as Sam picks me up, crying into his chest as they run back to the car frantic

“Just hold on we’re going to the hospital you’ll be fine” Sam says as he gently lays me in his lap in the back of the car as Dean puts his foot pedal to the metal driving so fast it was almost nauseating

The pain was all consuming I just want to close my eyes

“Hey you gotta stay awake” Sam says shaking me gently but the darkness took me and I was out

•

The beeping woke me up, opening my eyes to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the monitor and the hallway

I try to sit up but gasp from the pain, noticing my arm in a cast and a brace around my neck, immediately Sam and Dean woke up from where they were sat in the chairs

“Hey you’re awake how do you feel?” Dean asks as Sam pushes my hair back

I open my mouth trying to answer but nothing comes out except a whine, my throat felt like a machete had been sliced through it as we would a vampire

“Can you talk?” Sam asks worried

I try again but nothing, I shake my head defeated and scared, scared they see I really am useless and they’ll leave me behind, the anxiety is all consuming and I know they can tell I’m upset

“Come on let’s get you back to the motel, just be gentle” they helped me sit up slowly placing me in the wheelchair and wheeling me out to the impala

When we get back to the motel I hobble over to the bathroom my back on fire as I slowly take off the neck brace, revealing the black and blue that covered the entirety of my throat , my eyes red from the burst blood vessels, lifting my shirt I turn seeing my back in the same condition also covered in cuts

“Oh sis, I’m so sorry” Sam came in seeing everything, I pull my shirt back down and make my way over to my bed Dean helping me lay down

“Can we get you anything? I’ll go out and get your favorite food” I reach out and grip his necklace and he knew what I meant he sighed and nodded, we all knew it probably wouldn’t work he hasn’t been answering calls so why would he this time

Dean picked up his phone and called I could faintly hear the voice mail if grown accustom to

“Dad it’s y/n she’s really hurt, she needs you, please if you get this this would be the time to show up” he closed his phone and sat next to me rubbing my leg

“It’ll be okay, you’ve still got us Angel” I nodded before drifting off to sleep again

My dreams are consumed by every hunting mistake I’ve made, everytime dad was mad at me, everytime I let them all down I wake up with a gasp again when I hear the front door slam open, I slowly sit up feeling my shirt rid up and that’s when I hear him, the voice I’ve missed so much

“Oh my baby girl” he comes around the bed and kneels infront of me, taking in my horrific beat up body

“The vampire it got a hold of her before we even saw it” Sam said

“I…..” that’s all I could get out before I was aching with pain keeling over as the waves of pain rolled over me

He took my shoulders and held me close

“This is why I’ve always been so hard on you, cause see you like this kills me, I promised your mother I’d never let anything bad happen to you” he sighed

At least they were all here now

“Maybe she needs to take a break for a while” Dean intervened

“Yeah and I’m not leaving till your better” I nodded feeling a little more relieved finally having my family back together

[undreaming-fanfiction]

I've had a fantasy/medieval AU in mind for ages and I will write it one day, but the idea just wants out now. So have a brief summary.

Steve works in a small town in the middle of nowhere, he's doing odd jobs and helping to tame the local children. He's very protective because he knows the world outside is dangerous, and yeah, maybe their town is borning, but at least it's safe. Ever since his former fiancées friend got dragged into a river and drowned by a water demon, he's been even more protective of the children (and has saved them from a bunch of close calls too, even though they hate to admit it).

Eddie is a travelling bard, and Steve wants to tear his hair out and weave it into a basket or something. Because where he's trying to make sure the six kids get to grow up, Eddie is filling their heads with adventures, dragons, treasure and all that beautiful stuff that gets people killed one day. But the kids love him and Steve can only stay nearby and pray they don't run off one day with makeshift swords.

He just wants the kids safe. That's why he always accompanies them when Eddie is in town. So what if he sits nearby when Eddie spins his stories, it's just to protect them all from wolves if they decide to come. So what if he inches closer when the tale gets more tense and the protagonist is in danger. So what if he holds his breath until he knows whether the adventurers lived to see another day! It's all for the children, he says to himself.

And Eddie? Eddie sees the wonder in Steve's eyes. He sees a young man who has been walking in circles for too long, who has given up all of his future to give one to these six children. He sees in him what he sees in all of the adventurers and heroes he sings about, whose tales he carries with him. He sees all he wants to give.

So Eddie comes to the town more often than to the other ones. But whenever the children start raving about going on adventures, he just throws his head back and laughs. "You, going on an adventure? Please. Can you hold a weapon? Can you dodge an attack? Hm? Show me." The kids fail, of course. And Eddie says: "Do you know what the adventurers I sing about have in common? They came back from their adventures. And why? Because they were prepared! No one is going to sing about you if you drop dead during your first fight."

It doesn't take long for the kids to come to Steve for advice and training. And Steve knows somewhere deep in his heart that he can't protect them forever. He talks to the captain of the guard, Hopper, and he actually gets someone to train with the kids - and himself. He watches with pride as the children pick weapons best suited to their strengths, all too heavy for them, but that doesn't curb their enthusiasm.

He also asks his ex-fiancée, Nancy, to provide some basic training regarding edible herbs, remedies and poisons. He goes to Robin for a geography lesson, so that the little shits at least know where they're going and where their kingdom ends. He asks Jonathan to speed up their reading and writing lessons, and Argyle prepares a bunch of easy recipes from things that grow around them, and teaches them how to start a fire in almost any conditions.

When the kids turn fifteen, they are ready to go on an adventure with Eddie. Steve has done all he could, but he still feels they aren't ready, that he isn't ready. He'll die of worrying, he knows it. What is he even going to do now that the kids are gone?

But Eddie just smiles at him. "What, you put in all this work for them and now you don't even get to see them in action? Don't be stupid. Go and pack, we'll wait for you."

If Steve keeps thinking of Eddie's smile the whole time he's packing, it's only his business.

And that's how, with much of the kids' grumbling, Steve also leaves on adventure.