#in a room together’ i woulda figured it out. BUT I FIGURED IT OUT ANYWAY SO.

[jibunwo]

dream last night was weird bc sometimes i was a boy and sometimes i was a girl and nobody questioned it but also i was definitely closeted bc if i had been out then stella (dream bestie) wouldve just come out to me instead of making an evil alter ego (long story but i forgot most of it tbh) also we were in high school and i was in love with her. and there was scary monsters

[catierambles]

Feral Instincts Ch.16

Pairing: The Rogue's Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1413

Warnings: It's rough, but if you've read anything else by me, you know I don't shy away from dark stuff. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY

Sy was sitting on the porch when August and Walter got back from their run, both men breathing heavily and not just from the cardio.

"Where's Steph?" He asked and they looked at him curiously.

"She's not here?" Walter asked, but he shook his head.

"Something happened between her and Gerry and she went out for a run." Sy said, using the nickname he had for Geralt when he was pissed at him, knowing the white wolf hated it. "Figured you woulda crossed paths."

"We didn't see her." August said, "What happened between her and Geralt?"

"Won't tell me." Sy said with a sniff, "She looked scared as shit though when she left his room. They mated, but he won't admit to anythin' beyond that." He watched August's hackles raise, "Already reamed him out, Walker, he don't need you goin' after him, too."

"But you don't know what happened?" Walter asked.

"Only what he's told me." Sy said, "Doesn't matter anyway, seein' how whatever it was affected her."

"I told her I loved her." Geralt was standing in the doorway.

"And that scared her?" August asked and Walter sighed, running a hand through his curls.

"I bet you all a tenner the last guy who told her he loved her was Lewis." He said and Geralt sighed.

"No wonder it fuckin' scared her." Sy said, "If Walt's right, she's gonna have some baggage with the word."

"Should we go look for her?" Walter asked.

"She probably just wants to be alone right now." Sy said, "Process some shit. She'll be back, she just needs a few to herself."

"I told you." Jordan said as he paced around her still on the ground. "Didn't I tell you? I told you that you weren't safe with them."

"And I'm safe with you?" She ground out through her teeth, trying to breathe through the pain. "What you did to me--"

"I only did it because I love you, Stephanie. You know that." He said and she twisted on the ground as her wolf was yanked to just below the surface. It didn't feel like when she did it with the others. She coaxed their wolf out with care, Jordan had grabbed hers by the scruff and was ripping it out of her, dragging it fighting into the open. The bones in her hands popped and contorted, blood seeping out from under her fingernails. "But they, those Alphas. They don't love you, not like I do."

"Jordan…"

"I saw your first shift, you know." He said and she looked up at him, "That's right. I was here, I saw it. They were too distracted chasing you down to even notice. Some protectors they are. I saw your first shift, and…" His face twisted in a frightening rage. "And I watched as they violated you. When they defiled you, and you let them!"

"They're my Mates." Her ribs popped as they spread outwards, pressing against her chest before snapping back into place, making her cry out.

"They're not your Mates, Stephanie." His face was suddenly very close to hers, his eyes aflame. "You're their whore. Their little fucktoy they can play with then discard." He backed away from her, starting to pace again. "But it doesn't matter. It doesn't. It really doesn't. We're together again and that's all that matters."

"You're insane." She panted.

"Oh, that's what they would love for you to believe. That I'm insane, that all ferals are bat shit crazy." He said, "We're what wolves are supposed to be. Predators. Not these weak little pups that play nice with the sheep." She just shook her head. "But it's okay now, it's you and me again. I'll get you away from them and where you belong. We'll make our own pack, it'll be great. You'll see."

"I'm not…" She swallowed hard, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Oh come on, Steph." He whined, "Don't be difficult! I can't Call you anymore after your first shift, fuck if I know why."

"I'm an Alpha." His laugh was high and almost hysterical, reminding her of a hyena.

"You? An Alpha? Now that's funny." He said, "But now that you mention it. Nah, I'm just feeling those assholes."

“Then what am I, Jordan?” She asked, anger starting to push through the pain. “What the fuck am I? I’m not an Alpha, do I feel like a Beta or Omega to you?”

“You…” He stopped, his brow furrowing slightly before he shook his head. “You’re messing with me, you’re trying to make me confused. That’s not very nice, you know.” Her back cracked, spine pushing outwards against her skin making her twist on the ground, ripping a cry from her lips. "I didn't want to do this, Steph, you know that. Hurting you is the last thing I'd ever want to do, but you shouldn't have run away, you should have come back with me, not stayed with them." She watched as he pulled a pair of work gloves out of his back pocket along with a length of chain, tugging the gloves on before going back to her on the ground. She tried moving away from him but he grabbed her, dragging her back and forcing her onto her stomach, twisting her arms behind her back. The chain was cold when it first touched her skin as he wrapped it around her wrists but then started to burn. "I didn't want to have to use silver on you, but you really gave me no choice."

"Jordan, please!" It felt like her entire arms were on fire, pain radiating and growing from her wrists the longer the metal was in contact with her skin. He forced a hard bit past her lips, securing it behind her head and flipped her onto her back, staring down at her for a moment, a smile coming to his lips.

"Baby, you don't know how good you look right now." He said, his hand going to her stomach, pushing under her shirt and she almost gagged against the bit. "Let's get somewhere private and I'll show you just how much I missed you." She tried kicking as he grabbed at her, but he tied her ankles together with more chain, her pants keeping this one from touching her skin. Picking her up, he threw her over his shoulder. She tried bucking against him, tried making him drop her, but the silver around her wrists was quickly sapping her strength, the pain making her vision dim. He started walking, but then paused. "Ah hell." Jordan took off at a run, weaving through the trees before coming to a halt.

"Drop. Her. Now." Hearing Geralt's voice, though twisted with rage, made tears well in her eyes.

"She belongs to me." Jordan snapped out, "Not you. Not them. Me. I made her. She's mine."

"You should really listen to the man, son." A small sob worked past the bit at Sy's voice. "That's his Mate and Alpha you're cartin' off."

"Our Mate." August. "Our Alpha."

"She's not your Mate!" Jordan growled out.

"Put her down. Nice and easy." Walter. She wanted to call out to them, but couldn't say anything around the bit so she reached out with her wolf, pushing past the pain, a shudder running through the area. "You're going to be alright, love."

"He bound her with silver." Geralt growled out and she heard him start moving closer, Jordan backing up a few steps. Something hit them like a truck and she was thrown to the ground, tumbling across the leaves.

"Walt!" August ordered, but he was already crouched by her, undoing the bit and throwing it aside.

"Ah, fuck!" He hissed when he touched the chains, ripping his hands away sharply. "I got you, love. Don't worry." There was the sound of sliding fabric and the chains were unwrapped from around her ankles and wrists, taking skin with them as they pulled away from her arms. They, too, were thrown to the side and he gathered her in his arms, holding her against his bare chest. There was a shout of pain, but she couldn't seem to be able to open her eyes.

"Fucker had a silver blade!" Sy yelled out, his voice strained. "Geralt, rip his fuckin' head off." She heard him run off through the trees after him and she exhaled a breath she had been holding, starting to sob quietly into Walter's neck.

"You're safe now, love, you're safe."

[simsstuph]

Billay grabbed her shoulders: Ya gotta let the Mullens stuff go. They ain't comin' back for it.. Hell, if they wanted it they woulda done been back by now for it.

Delilah sighed: You're right. I guess it's just weird how someone could just leave all of their belongings behind like that.

Billay: The Mullens were real nice, but their daughter wasn't. She high-tailed it outta town quicker than a four legged jack rabbit. She'd send her kids back every summer to spend it with grandma and grandpa, but I don't think she ever came herself... Not once..

Delilah: That didn't upset them? Why would she just leave her mom and dad like that?

Billay: Heck if I know, I was just a youngin' when she left, but some of them grandkids of theirs was 'bout our ages. Used to play down at the creek with them growin' up. Once Mrs. Mullens got hauled away they stopped comin'. Aint nobody heard from them since.

Delilah: Who hauled her away? I mean.. IF the daughter never came back.. Who took her away?

Billay thought for a moment: That was the only time she ever came on back here. To get Mrs. Mullens after Mr. Mullens passed away.

Delilah: Did you see her? Did they take anything with them?

Billay: Sure did, I was out for my daily ride with Tulip. She got Mrs. Mullens in the truck, and loaded a suitcase or two into the bed of it. That was it. Gone with the wind after that.

Delilah: I just wish I could know more, living here and seeing everything left the way she left it when we moved in. I feel like I know her. Or at least, want to.

Billay smiled: Yer' gonna drive yerself crazy tryin' to figure this out darlin'. The Mullens aint ever comin' back. That's all yer gonna get from it. Some stories don't got no ending, just what ifs.

Delilah: Every story has to have some kind of ending... What're you doing here so early anyway?

Billay: Me and Van are headin' to the horse races today with the girls, wanna tag along? It's real fun! Everyone in town will be there, it's a big ole' celebration.

Delilah hesitantly: Sounds fun, but I'm gonna pass. I've gotta get my room together before school starts next week.

They small talked for another minute or two.

[venusimi]

Let's love again

MC passes away and Mammon was not happy about that. He meets a new human, someone that made him feel whole again.

GN!MC x Mammon, Mammon x oc

Slight angst, bittersweet, hurt/comfort, major character death

PART 2 // PART 3

Love is a curious thing.

Love makes you stupid, some might say. But others say that love makes you whole. Which do you believe in most?

The day of your passing was silent other than the agonized crying of Asmodeus and Mammon's frantic careless whispers. He begged you not to leave him but you do anyways.

The brothers took their time to mourn in their own ways, but Mammon... He took it the hardest.

You were his first kiss.

You were his first master that never abused their authority.

It was you who recognized his worth when others couldn't. You helped him push through, and he shielded you against the evil as a thank you.

And you were his first ever true love.

He thinks about the time you two spent, the joy in your voice whenever something funny or good happens. The sparkle in your eye is hard to miss.

He remembers your voice, the first he met you, your first kiss, and your first date. It was like a fever dream to him now.

He laid lifeless in his room for so long, until eventually, he met someone. A witch actually. Funny, he never had any good relations with a witch but it was different with her.

He is suddenly reminded of your love for him and his love for you.

Her laughs made him warm.

The sparkle in her eyes when she accomplishes something.

He was in love.

Again.

"Mammon!" She smiles.

Mammon looks at her, "...Tabitha." She was dressed beautifully for their first date.

Yes. Date.

He figured, since he can't stay in his room forever, he might as well try meeting new people. It hurts, he admits but he's even starting to neglect his brothers.

If it doesn't worth with Tabitha, then it's okay.

The two of them spent the day together, visiting places she wanted to go.

Then when the sun began to set.

She asks him.

"Who was MC to you?"

His body freezes at the mention of your name, he felt tense. He breathed and everything was okay.

"They were a good person. My first love, they had the smile that lit up the midnight sky of Devildom and their eyes shimmered like the night sky littered with stars." He whispers as though he has said it many times.

Maybe he has.

Tabitha looks at him with a smile, "I would love to meet them if they made you feel such love."

"Mm..."

The silence was comfortable.

It never felt like she was trying to replace you, her love for him felt genuine.

"I'm not trying to replace them, but if you're not ready-"

"-No. I know, thanks... I'm sure MC woulda loved you."

"I'm sure I would have loved them too."

She places her head on his shoulder, "Tell me more about them. Your brothers told me lots, but I wanna hear about them from their first man's pov."

He blushes.

"Okay..."

He recounts your stories, he tells the small things you did, everything. And she listened throughout all of it.

She laughed at parts she was supposed to.

She asked questions on parts that were appropriate to ask.

She enjoys hearing about his first love just as he enjoys talking about you.

"MC, do ya remember Tabitha? I told ya about her, well, this is her now! Pretty, ain't she?"

He sits in front of your gravestone with flowers in hand.

"From me and Tabitha."

Tabitha sits down beside him, she looks at your gravestone. Your name written on it.

"I've heard lots about you MC! You left a long lasting impact on the brothers... I hope you're at peace." Then she opens her purse to pull out candy.

"I heard you liked those?" Mammon snorts as her eyes lit up as if you replied to her.

"I do too actually!! So don't feel bad about troubling me, I grew up eating these, I've never seen anyone else who did. My friends say it tastes like durian... But honestly it taste great that way!" She continues to babble while Mammon adds to the conversation.

By the time they needed to go, Tabitha allowed him to have a bit of silence. She watches as he whispers to you. She doesn't know what he is saying but she hears a bit.

"...-iss ya. Tabitha's real good to me, she's not tryna replace ya so I hope ya understand. We'll come again... I love ya, human. I always will." Tabitha smiles as he brushes his hands on your gravestone, tracing your name so delicately.

He stands up slowly, and she stands still.

Mammon walks up to her.

They make eye contact.

Then, he places his hands on her face.

"I love ya too, Tabitha... But I hope ya understand that I can't kiss ya..."

She smiles softly.

"Of course I do. It's okay."

Their foreheads touch and he felt warmer again, their eyes stayed close.

He does not think of you,

Because she is not replacing you and she does not want to.

[fiddleturnips]

Backupsmore University

Okay, so. The following is not very well written and has been heavily edited in my actual draft - the chapter it was in has been broken up and spread between like three different chapters. However, I realized that the context for Why Fiddleford Is Like That is sort of important for my other snippets to make sense.

Content warning for depression, but this section does not contain graphic detail. Further content warning for the American Public School System in the Nineteen-Seventies. (Specifically: the school system's relative inability to absorb non-average children.)

"Ah. Right." Stanford sat back down. The broken mug scraped across the tiles and clattered as Fiddleford swept. "Well, we were in high school. It was close to graduation. We'd been fighting anyway. Big time for me, because it was around the Science Fair-"

"Scholarship season."

"Yes."

"Your family weren't that well off, am I rembering right? I seem to recall you were seeking a full ride and couldn't get it."

"I was going to go to Westmore. If I could afford it, I would have anyway. But Backupsmore was a lot more manageable."

Fiddleford laughed. "Ain't that the truth."

"Wait, you were full ride. And you were, what, seventeen Freshman year? What were you doing there?"

"They weren't that strict on school transcripts," Fiddleford said. "A lot more welcoming of science and engineering portfolios. And I needed full ride, I wasn't getting a dime after a bug came by and wiped out my school stock."

"Your… your what?"

"Oh, you wouldn't have this sort of thing. Some of us livestock breeders, when a kid's young, we'll start to set some animals aside for them. You invest in a couple of pigs, add to the herd when you can, teach the kid to care for 'em, and when it comes time for high school graduation you can get a sturdy few grand even if it's just a small herd, then if you invest it right and keep an eye on the price of pork, you can pay a kid through college with a bit to spare. Only mine all got sick and died out."

"That is fascinating and tragic. You never talked about this."

"Yeah, I never talked to the Yankee kids about the fact that I was going to a bum school because my papa couldn't afford a better one because my pigs died and I didn't have school transcripts 'cause I didn't go to school. How do you think that woulda gone over?"

Stanford did know about Fiddleford's school history. At this moment, he was significantly exaggerating. He had gone to school, and he had excelled at school - for about two thirds as long as any other kid, if you combined all of the months.

Pines and McGucket were close college friends, in a lot of the same classes and clubs, spending study hours together in the tucked-away rooms that let them get as loud and melodramatic as they wanted. At first, Fiddleford had joked that he'd done a lot of special programs for county fairs as a kid. Then, he'd joked that nobody taught him per se as he'd just up and swallowed a library one summer and they all figured that was probably that. Then he'd joked that he was a dropout, and when pressed on that he'd grudgingly admit that no, he was homeschooled.

Then eventually the two boys got close enough and he got tipsy enough for it all to come out. The whole story was that the older he got, the more he skipped grades and got shifted to advanced classes and eventually got stuck in the school's Special Education department because as it was they had no idea what the hell else to do with him, the more he'd get bored and start stealing books from older kids and building things out of school supplies and on one memorable occasion stuck a fork in the electrical outlet - he'd been found with third-degree burns on his hand and a paper beside him calculating the exact voltage available from the wall outlet in comparison to the shock a human being could survive - anyway, the more all of that happened, the earlier in the year his Ma and Pa would have the hard conversation that the trouble he could cause at home was nothing like the trouble he was already causing in the classroom.

By high school, his Ma had sat him down and said: Look. You need an education. Every single word of what they teach you in those there classrooms matters, even the stuff you think is dumb and silly. So you're gonna stay home this year, we're getting permission to let you do experiments in the local tech college's labs for Chemistry and such and the rest you're figuring out on your own. And at the end of the year, you are submitting reports about what you learned to every single teacher in the school, and we'll see if they find fault in your methods.

She'd meant for him to get through Freshman core curriculum. He'd gotten through that most of the electives. The next year, he did the rest of the core curriculum and they rented out some textbooks from the local tech college, plus a special weekly tutoring session with the Language Arts teacher because his critical thinking was a bit underdeveloped and another with the AP Maths guy to whip his self-correction into shape. The year after that, they had a sit-down with a representative of the County and a recruitment man from a university and the principal of the high school he'd dropped out of. He couldn't legally leave the public system until he was at the legal age, but they all agreed that he was doing just fine on his own until then.

He wasn't seventeen when he enrolled at Backupsmore. He was sixteen. And he'd already tested out of Freshman and Sophmore classes, and the only other one there who'd done that was Stanford. The two were friends because up to that point, neither one had ever had a peer.

Stanford Pines was a by-the-book scientist. He'd completed every year of school the way it was intended, on time, and with very high marks. He'd also completed science fair projects and extracurriculars. Once he reached university, he kept a full schedule, his days planned to the minute, with an exercise routine and designated journaling time. His accelerated schooling happened because he did things to the letter, bull-rushed through the political game, took every advantage he could get, and was so damn good at his job that nobody could find a reason to keep him from going at it.

Fiddleford McGucket was a free thinking engineer. He couldn't keep his head on straight enough to follow orders, but he was "such a delight to have in class" and "unfailingly diligent with his homework" and "not afraid to do the hard, boring work that needs doing for a project's success," so he kept getting special treatment anyway.

For Stanford Pines, his combined arrogance with his peers, aggressively growth-minded attitude, relentless self-paced work schedule, and unfailing results put him through twelve doctorates and a self-guided grant program.

For Fiddleford McGucket, the combined inexperience working with others, habit of taking on all the work that was available to him so he could prove he was worthwhile, commitment to doing everything perfectly right the first time no matter how loaded his schedule was, and desperate, desperate need to fit in for once left him plastered to the floor of a bathroom stall trying not to cry out loud while he psyched himself up to get back to the lab every spring and autumn night for a year.

Pines and McGucket had both set astronomical standards for themselves that no normal human could possibly hope to achieve. Difference was, Doctor Stanford Pines had somehow done it.

[starlitangels]

The King (Pin the Crown On) - Part 2

I can’t believe I never posted this. Oops. Cataclysm spoilers, I guess, even though it’s been A While. Sorry @zozo-01 I know I promised that I wasn’t going to leave you hanging on Part 1... my bad! 3.2k words (almost exactly!) (Part 1)

—

Vega leaned against the wall in the private, small room off from the main audience hall. Avior sat opposite Collins in one of the cushy armchairs. The room was designed as some sort of parlor or withdrawing room, apparently, and exuded comfort. Collins’ guard—a female vampire with an aura almost as strong as Collins’ own—copied Vega’s position on the other side of the door. Though her stance was significantly less intimidating.

“You honestly think I would try to turn your Freelancer?” Collins asked, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips.

Avior scoffed. “Having the love of my life under your control? Someone to whom I am devoted, subjected to your whims? It wouldn’t surprise me if you’d considered it, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you tried it.”

“Smart. Paranoid, maybe. But smart.”

“I prefer the term cautious,” Avior replied nonchalantly.

Collins just snorted. “Would it be so bad? To have them immortal, by your side forever?”

“Not under your thumb.”

“Well, now, see, if I did manage to turn them before they could defend themselves, I can’t imagine I’d keep my head long enough to actually exert any control over them. Death of the maker frees the progeny from invocation.”

Avior scoffed. “That’s true. But the fact remains that you’re still a Mass-Maker with legions under your control. You’d have a numbers advantage.”

“Means nothin’ when either you or the big guy back there could turn me to dust with half a thought faster’n I could blink.” Collins bounced an eyebrow. “I know better’n to mess with daemons, King Avior. That’s why I wanted to discuss an alliance in the first place. Honestly, if that partner of yours hadn’t suggested it, I never woulda considered it. Thought y’all woulda… I dunno, gone to ground to hide from the humans and vamps. Maybe try to blend in.”

“With this many empowered humans, that would be impossible,” Avior said. “Our magical signatures give us away too easily.” He gestured to his horns. “Cloaking these—” He did so. “Doesn’t stop me from being obviously a daemon.” His horns reappeared as easily as they’d vanished. He didn’t notice the way Vega twitched when Avior’s horns disappeared.

“The gold eyes don’t help either, I reckon.”

“No. They don’t.” Avior glanced down at his fingernails, examining them idly. “So. You’d prefer an alliance over a truce? Work together, instead of politely ignore each other?”

Collins shrugged. “I always figure it helps more than hurts to have, eh, powerful friends. If you’ll pardon the phrase.”

“No, no. It makes sense.” Avior reached up and nudged the circlet to put it back in the middle of his forehead where it had drifted slightly. “It’s always better to have friends. And you and Vega already know each other.” Vega blithely pretended not to notice the look Avior shot at him.

“We do,” Collins agreed.

“So what are you hoping to get out of this alliance?”

“Well…” Collins leaned back in his cushy armchair, lounging casually but thoughtfully. “Your kind can still feed on mine, right?”

“Yes,” Avior replied carefully. “Vampires are, technically, a race of empowered human. But even Old Bloods aren’t strong enough to trance us. And obviously vampires can’t feed on us because our blood is literally magic and it burns them up.”

Collins hummed. “Right,” he agreed. “Anyway. I have a veritable army of progeny at my disposal. Progeny your kind can feed on.” Collins’ metallic eyes flicked briefly to Vega before returning to Avior.

“In exchange for what?” Avior sounded skeptical.

“Assistance. I don’t need to inform you that vampires struggle with externalizin’ their magic. Our Cores weave our magic into every cell of our bodies. Untyin’ that to try to use it for something else takes a lotta work—that a lotta progeny just aren’t ready for. Pretty much all-a my progeny were unempowered before I turned them. They’re not like me. I used to be a Freelancer. I don’t struggle as much with externalizin’ my powers because I knew how to beforehand. And I worked as a healer so healin’ magic comes easiest of all. My progeny don’t have that luxury.”

“So… you want to be able to call on daemons for help with magical matters your progeny can’t handle; in exchange my daemons can feed on your progeny’s emotions.”

Collins smiled a wicked smile, his fangs half-extended. “Well now. Even smarter than the rumors say, ain’t ya? That’s exactly right.”

“I assure you, that leap in logic wasn’t much of a leap at all,” Avior said. “You gave me all the information I’d need to make an educated guess.”

Collins chuckled. “No wonder you’re the daemon king.”

Avior huffed what was almost a laugh. “My partner deserves a royal title far more than I do,” he said. “Without them, the Meridian would have fallen and your whole plane would have been wiped from existence.”

“But, nevertheless, here you are,” Collins remarked. “King of Daemons.”

Vega felt the wave of irritation roll off Avior.

Avior was a confident daemon. Always had been. He was intelligent and didn’t speak on any subject unless he believed himself to be adequately informed. He often came off as arrogant or aloof because of it, but Vega knew the truth. Avior was humble. Avior didn’t like being the center of attention. He had simple wants and desires. He’d become the leader of the daemons by default. As the director of the haven and a gifted strategist, he’d been the most trusted choice.

Collins’ words rubbed him the wrong way. Vega thought Avior deserved every word, even if Avior himself didn’t believe the same.

“That’s… certainly one way to put it,” Avior said. He took a deep breath. Vega felt Avior’s magic burn a little hotter. Doing what, Vega wasn’t entirely sure. Avior sighed out the breath he’d taken. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said.

—

Avior’s voice touched my mind. Put a protection ward on your skin. The kind vampires can’t penetrate.

I didn’t bother to question him. He didn’t order me around unless he had good reason. Oftentimes I ignored his orders, but this one seemed like he was scared. I shifted my position between Cam, Vindemiator, and Asher so the vampire guards lining the walls wouldn’t notice my hands moving to make the ward.

An invisible magical shield coated my skin. I wasn’t getting bitten by any vampires tonight. Do I dare ask why?

Collins and I made a deal. An alliance. I imagine he’s going to try to dance with you again.

I already told him I don’t know how.

I know. We’ll see what happens.

With that, Avior’s voice was gone.

I glanced at Cam and Vindemiator. Neither of them seemed to have heard Avior, so I figured he’d sent it to me privately rather than broadcasted telepathy like Vega used.

I knew they must have noticed the warmth of my aura showing I had magic in use, but neither of them commented on it. Nor did Asher. I shuffled my feet and looked around anxiously. The guards lining either side of the room didn’t seem interested in moving.

Or… maybe they couldn’t. I wondered how cruel Collins was. Had he invoked them all to not move a muscle unless directed otherwise? One of them had attacked and another had muttered under their breath so that couldn’t have been the case.

And our group just stood in the middle of the room, still half in the formation we’d entered in. Barely moving, not talking to one another either.

It was really boring.

I started to inspect the faces of each of the guards, looking for anyone familiar. I doubted I’d know any of them. Dahlia was a big place and my social circles were about ninety-percent daemons and shifters.

I was surprised to see a familiar face at the back of the room.

King-Imperial Damien. Standing rigid with a blank expression on his face. Staring straight ahead of him at the opposite wall. Never once looking in our direction.

Cam and Vindemiator both glanced at me. “What’s wrong?” Cam asked.

“Hmm?” I turned to look at them.

“You’re sad,” Vindemiator said, reaching up and adjusting my circlet so it was in the center of my forehead again. “Where’d that come from?”

“It’s more than sadness,” Cam put in to Vindemiator. “It’s resignation.” Cam met my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not something to be shared here,” I said.

“Understood,” Cam said with a nod.

After another few moments, footsteps clacked on the hard ground. Collins, his guard, Avior, and Vega were coming back into the room. I watched Vega step backward through a rift where he was at the back of the group, almost immediately appearing directly in front of me, facing away toward where the others were still approaching.

“We’ll have to do the high-toned and fancy to-do later,” Collins was saying to Avior as they walked. “I’d’ve liked to make a shindig outta this but sometimes you can’t even trust your own blood.” He glowered toward where there was a body without a head and the scattered dust from Vindemiator dissolving another vampire.

“Some other time,” Avior agreed. “For tonight, it’s probably better for us to take our leave.”

“Of course. See you soon.”

“You as well.”

Avior and Collins shook hands—both looking a bit like they were testing the other—and then Avior was reaching out for me. I took his hand and let him lead our group out of the throne room. I sensed his and Vega’s magic burning a little warmer, like they were preparing to haul wards into existence in a split second.

But we left the room, and then the Spire, without incident.

—

Avior looked up, gold eyes glittering in the starlight, as I stepped out onto the back porch of the old Keaton pack’s den. “You still have the circlet on,” he said, sounding surprised.

I smirked. “You like how it looks on me. Figured I’d let it stay for a bit.” I held a hand out for him. He took it and let me help him get to his feet. I pulled out my phone and started to play some soft music.

“What’re you…” he trailed off. I positioned his hand around my back and took his other one. He was taller than me so our clasped hands were held at my eye level.

I started to step to the music, holding him close to me.

He followed, but quickly assumed the role of leader. “You told Collins you never learned how,” he said.

“I lied,” I replied. “Of course I know how to dance.”

Avior chuckled. “You lied to a Mass-Maker’s face. And got away with it. Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”

I shrugged and rested my head on his chest. He was warm and the faint aroma of books clung to him. He sighed in contentment and rested his cheek on the top of my head. We were still dancing, but had gone from formal to casual. Mostly just swaying on the spot, listening to the gentle music and enjoying each other’s company.

“You gonna tell me about the deal you made with Collins?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. When you tell me why I felt you be sad while we were at the Spire for a moment. For now can we just… be?”

“Okay.”

We just swayed on the porch for a while, letting the song change a couple times before the autumn chill drove us back into the den.

Inside, we found Vindemiator quickly hiding something behind his back.

Or, rather, someone.

“What are you doing here?” Avior asked. No menace in the words—just curiosity. “I thought you went back to your cottage and your partner.”

“I did. I brought someone back with me.” Vindemiator stepped to the side to reveal a small demon with a pair of little curled horns, pink curly hair, freckles, and a pink sweater. He looked a little nervous. “Avior, this is Caelum. Caelum, this is Avior.”

“H-hi,” Caelum greeted with a tiny wave.

“Hello there,” Avior replied gently.

Vindemiator leaned closer to Caelum. “Avior’s the leader of the daemons I spent the last year living with. He protects us. Keeps us safe. He kept an eye on Delphinus while he was exiled here too. You can trust him.” Vindemiator nodded to me. “His partner’s human too. Like mine. One of the good humans. Can you feel how happy they both are, buddy?”

Caelum nodded, big eyes staring at me.

I smiled. “Hi,” I said. I offered him my name. He nodded.

Vindemiator met my eyes. “Coordinator, can I speak to you in private for a moment?”

“Of course,” I said.

Caelum turned a scared look toward the incubus, but Vindemiator gave him a comforting look. “Get to know Avior for a minute, okay? I won’t be long. He’ll keep you safe too.”

“O-okay.” Caelum nodded and glanced at Avior.

I followed Vindemiator out of the kitchen and to the front great room. “What’s up?”

A soundproof ward sprung into existence around us. “It’s Caelum. He’s an Empathy Daemon. My… my partner is usually happy enough for Caelum to… at least scrape by. But no one can be happy all the time and they’ve been struggling the last couple days. Caelum hasn’t been able to fully feed in a week. I was wondering if… if you and the shifters and the other humans here could… maybe scrounge up a little happiness for him to get fully fed on, so my partner won’t feel so pressured to try and get over what they’re going through right now.”

A smile formed on my face as a thought occurred to me. “I can do that,” I agreed. “Give me two minutes to rally the troops and grab something from upstairs.”

Vindemiator almost sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

I set a hand on his shoulder. “Of course.”

The ward dropped.

I ran upstairs and snatched something from my and Avior’s room before knocking on the door to Milo and his mate’s. “Greer! Up and at ‘em!”

The door opened to Milo’s mate. “What’s going on?” they asked.

I held up the object in my hand. “It’s play time.”

I heard Milo cackle from inside the room. “You got it,” he said. I heard the creaking of old mattress springs and he appeared in the doorway. “You grab Ash yet?”

“Just about to.”

“Dope,” Milo said.

“I feel like you guys shouldn’t find this as fun as you do,” Milo’s mate remarked.

I shrugged. “We’re bored and messing around is fun. Gotta do something.”

They rolled their eyes.

I grabbed Asher and my friend—who conveniently was in the same room as Asher while I pretended not to notice the glaringly obvious hickey where their neck met their shoulder—and took the group downstairs. I signalled for them to wait in the great room and slipped into the kitchen myself.

Avior and Caelum were seated at the kitchen counter, not saying much.

“Avior, love?” I asked.

He turned on his stool. “Yes, starlight?”

I held up the plastic tiara with its pink feathers and painted-on “gems” that weren’t even rhinestones.

He groaned. “Starlight—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence as I lunged closer to him to try and put it on his head. He dodged out from under me. I smiled wide and beckoned for Caelum to come with me. “Come play with us!” I exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“Pin the Crown On the King!” I replied.

Caelum cocked his head to the side but followed me into the great room. “Milo!” I called, throwing the tiara.

The great room dissolved into chaos and laughter as Avior tried to avoid getting the tiara on his head again.

One look at a giggling Caelum seemed to clue Avior into what I was doing, and his annoyance quickly turned into amused irritation. I could tell by the tiny smile touching his lips as he ducked out from under Milo sweeping an arm toward his head.

Vindemiator pulled Caelum aside for a brief moment. I saw him whisper something before letting the small pink daemon go. Caelum’s smile was broad as he rejoined the game. Milo gently tossed the tiara over to him. He managed to grab it out of the air as he ran behind Avior, who slowed just long enough for Caelum to almost get the tiara in his hair before quickly ducking away and rushing toward me.

“Caelum!” I called. The small daemon threw the tiara haphazardly my way. I latched onto it with Psychokinesis and brought it to me.

The game didn’t last as long as it had two days ago when we first played. Avior held out putting up with us being silly just long enough for Caelum to fully feed before he stopped and let Caelum put the tiara in his hair. Avior rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. I gave him a kiss. “You’re insufferable,” he whispered.

“Yeah but you love me.”

“I do. So much.” He glanced at everyone else. “Probably time to turn in for the night,” he announced. His hand closed around mine.

Vindemiator put a protective arm around Caelum and the two disappeared through a rift.

Milo and Asher made their way back upstairs, easy laughter and smiles between them while they chatted.

Until it was just me and Avior—still in the tiara—in the main great room.

Avior sat on one of the couches with a sigh, pulling me down with him by our joined hands. I felt an invisible ward weave into existence around us. It didn’t feel strong, but I guessed it was soundproof. “Time to talk?” I asked.

Avior pulled the tiara off and rested his head on my shoulder. “I suppose,” he replied. “Why were you sad at the Spire?”

“One of the guards was former King-Imperial Damien,” I said. “I… I was sad because it was our actions that…” I took a deep breath, trying to parse my thoughts into words. “He wasn’t the best king but I don’t believe he deserved what happened to him.” I made a face. “That’s the best way I can put it.”

Avior hummed thoughtfully. “Your compassion does you credit, my starlight. No matter what anyone says.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder through my shirt. I leaned my head on top of his. “Collins and I made a deal. We can feed on his progeny freely and in return we help with matters of magic that his progeny can’t handle. Most of them were unempowered before they turned and don’t know much about using their own magic. I don’t imagine the Imperium trained them on a broad spectrum of powers.”

“Not as bad as I was worried about,” I admitted.

Avior actually smiled. “Good to hear.”

We sat in silence for a bit, just listening to cars passing by outside and the creaking of daemons and shifters moving around upstairs and downstairs.

“Wanna go to bed?” I asked.

Avior took a deep breath, like he’d been dozing off on my shoulder. “Yeah.”

We stood from the couch and he dropped the ward. Holding hands, we went upstairs.

[newvillainontheblock]

[Off-screen post, tw themes of self depreciation, self destruction, and self hatred]

Heh. They still had the gyarados their brand new friend from Team Skull gave them. Who the fuck just let someone borrow a gyarados like that? No idea when they were going to return it thought.

They supposed they would....eventually.

Fun to intimidate people with though, if they were in any other mood.

But unfortunately for them, they were going home.

Home? That felt weird to say. The mansion used to be their home, but it wasn't really a home. Not to them, not anymore.

Now it was with Rory and Leo. The two guys that saw her as a meek freshman and looked after her when they went to the same school together, stayed in contact after they graduated, and eventually she started living with them.

Things were going good, right?

They were. And that was the problem.

What happens if she fucks up? What happens if she ruins everything they have? What happens when they decide they don't want to deal with her anymore?

Like she's going uphill on the rollercoaster of life and waiting for the drop.

And right now, it seems like the drop is now.

They joined Team Skull out of the blue, and didn't warn either of them.

And they panicked over her. Was calling her a lot. Fuck, she messed up didn't she? She didn't know why they were so concerned anyway.

It was always them two, and her. The perpetual other.

...

Thoughts bounced around in her head as they touched down.

She steeled herself, they were going to be fine. No, they weren't. She was going to keep herself composed. Yeah right.

Shut up, she told herself.

As she went in, she felt the silence in the room.

A pin ready to drop, her she figured.

"Hey.."

Their head went toward the noise. Rory looking at her from across the room.

"Hi...where's Leo?"

Rory gestured outside. "Out doing shit."

"Oh...."

Once again silence took over the room and Scoundrel squirmed. He was uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable. This is absolute shit.

He sighed, breaking the silence.

"You gonna tell me why you say shit to us before running off to who knows here?"

"Po Town actually..."

That earned her a glared.

"Yeah, my bad...I...didn't think about it, didn't think you'd care"

He groaned, rubbing at his face. Oh fuck.

"Fucking course we do and we were damn worried bout you kid for fuck's sake..."

Her head immediately starting going, why do you care. I don't deserve it. And much more.

That was all she could think about how they didn't deserve anything Rory and Leo did for them.

All they did was make things worse. Cause them to worry, more stress.

And unfortunately for them, it slipped out.

"Why...." They muttered under their breath.

"Why the fuck not? You've always been like a little sibling to me and Lee..we went all this way for you."

But more and more her head went "You don't deserve it, there's no reason for any of them to like you. And you know it, deep down you know he's wrong. That you've always been right that you deserve every bad thing that's happened to you."

And the damn broke loose.

"I figured you'd be happy without me anyway."

Rory took a step back like he was hit in the gut.

"Why, we wouldn't be- fuck, fucking arceus...."

He sat down on the couch and rubbed inbetween his eyes.

"I woulda thought we'd shown we cared by now, guess we were shit at that."

No no no no.

NO.

He wasn't supposed to do this. It was her fault. It was ALL her fault.

He should be attacking her, telling her how much of a shitty person she was.

"If you'd be happier somewhere else, you can leave, not going to make you stay."

Oh.

Fucking finally.

It happened.

He didn't want her anymore.

She knew it was going to happen, she knew it. She knew it she knew it she knew it.

She walked out the door.

............

Once she was far enough away, she started laughing. Almost maniacally but mixed with pain.

Leave it to her to ruin everything good she got.

But this was what was going to happen always. And better for him, and better for her, right?

Now why did she want to cry?

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, too many TV show references, obnoxious flirting, and riverdale lol

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: hello this is a chaos chapter. special shoutout to an anon who suggested a WandaVision themed episode, @obsessivelycapricious for the ideas, @spiderrpcrker loml for some of crackhead content here and @ugherik for take 2 of the spin on the “a platypus!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “perry the platypus!???” thing. i am exhausted

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“Mr. Barnes,” you announce when he opens the door to let himself in.

He raises his hand in a small wave, strolling across the floor to where you were standing.

“You are-” You check the watch on your wrist, “-ten minutes late.”

“Tragic,” he replies dryly. 

“Imagine if I didn’t wait for you and started my plan anyway. Total world annihilation.” You’re standing on the platform, lugging a heavy table on wheels and an old timey TV with you.

“The world hasn’t ended yet, I’d say it’s fine.” He makes his way to the base of the stairs, waiting for you to reach the top before he helps.

“How was therapy?” you question, one hand on the TV to support it. 

“Like always.” He shrugs, lifting the whole set up and placing it on the ground. “She told me I need to chill out.”

“I’d say she’s right.”

“Yeah, well-” He uses his metal arm to help you pull the table along. “I think she has her hands full with the other nine hundred problems I have.”

Once you guide it to the centre of the room, he lets go of it and takes a step back.

“Boom.”

“This TV is older than | am.” He knocks the top of it, a hollow metal sound resounding through.

“That's impossible,” you drawl obnoxiously. “You're, like, a billion years old.”

“I’m a gazillion, so watch your mouth,” he warns in mock seriousness. “What are you doing with this?”

“One second.” You hold up a finger, sorting out your priorities. “Your hair's getting long again.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That's what happens when it grows over time.”

“You look like a prince.” His hair fell to his ear by now and you figured the haircut did him well because the volume in his tresses was lively.

Bucky pulls at it slightly, eying a lock. “That a bad thing?”

“No.” He looked nice. “I like it.”

“Okay.” He pushes back a smile, nodding slightly.

Really nice.

“I think I will hit on you obnoxiously today.” 

He exhales, pressing his lips together in a straight line. “When do you not?”

“Anyway,” you begin again, keeping a hand on the TV. “I saw your reaction to Netflix’s best movie last time-”

His face falls. “We’re not watching the sequel.”

“Hush.” You raise a finger in warning. “There’s no point in watching The Kissing Booth 2-”

“We finally agree on something,” he deadpans. “Who woulda thought?”

“-when you can live it.” You raise the remote in triumph. “Behold, the Television Transporter... inator.”

“That’s the name?” He looks unimpressed, rightfully so. You had given him names like The Air Morphomatic Inator before. This was nothing. 

“I’m workshopping it,” you urge him to move on. “I built it in a hurry for us.”

“Is this thing even safe?” He taps at the glass.

“We’re gonna find out,” you mumble before raising your voice again. “You ever looked at a Hallmark movie and think, ‘gosh, I wish I was in that small, vaguely terrifying town!’”

“No.”

“When you’re watching a sci-fi movie and think, “jeez, I wish I was the one getting probed by that alien!”

“No.”

“When you’re watching erotica and-”

“No,” he interrupts before you complete your obscene thought.

“Well, today’s your lucky day.” You clap your hands together in excitement. “Because you can do all of that.”

“Why are you advertising this to me?” His feeling of suspiciousness rises with every second. “What is this, a pitch meeting?”

“I thought I’d make it fun.” You pouted. “Monologuing is so two weeks ago.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Also, I didn’t exactly get to test this out so...” you trail off. “And it technically only runs TV shows for now. If you want, we can do this next week after I do a few test runs with my clones.”

He had a mission next weekend, followed a fundraiser event and even though he would definitely rather spend it here, he doesn’t really have the time.

“What if something goes wrong?” he asks, just in case.

“I swear I’ll pull the plug,” you promise. “No pun intended.”

That’s enough for him.

“Guess ‘m gonna have to destroy it before it’s fully functional.” He’s still feeling the adrenaline spike from the compliment you gave him earlier. Might as well make use of it.

You grin at his spontaneity. “Anyway, here’s the evil part-”

“Oh, joy.”

“You’re mouthy today, Barnes.” You take a pause. “I like it. Keeping things spicy.”

“Just doing my part.” He shakes his head, owing it the unusual sense of confidence compared to what he had when he initially walked in “Go on, the evil part is?”

“They get thrown into any show across all networks or streaming platforms.” The smile on your face is nothing short of sinister. “If they’re especially bad, they’re going straight to Riverdale.”

“You can control it?”

“Well,” you pause, “no, not yet. But I’ll get there.”

Bucky just continues anyway. “And who are you planning to send?”

“For a start, it’d be that asshole Jeff from work.” Ah yes, he remembers Jeff. Baking soda volcano guy. “He’s gonna know the epic highs and lows of high school football.”

He brushes it off as a reference he doesn’t get yet.

“After that, anyone who’s inconvenienced me ever.” You spread your arms out. “And then the whole tri-state area.”

There’s a loud booming sound throughout the lair, similar to a dun dun dun in every superhero movie ever.

Bucky waits for it to subside before continuing, “How long did it take you to do that?”

“An embarrassing amount of time,” you admit, dropping your hands to your side again. “But it’s cool, right?”

“Sure.”

“You know it is.”

“Move on.”

“Right, so taking over the tri-state area, blah blah, end of the world as we know it-”

“What if I pull the plug?” He points to the cable connecting it to the socket.

“You wouldn’t.”

He stares at you. “You know I would.”

“Yeah, you would,” you huff. “Which is why it’s just for show. It doesn’t actually do anything.”

“What if I punch a hole through it?”

“Why is that your first resort?” you whine. “There’s only one way to stop it and it’s the remote I made.”

“That remote?” He looks at the one in your hand and you nod. 

“We get two minutes per channel, so that’s fun,” you explain, walking towards the TV. “You can pick your character but since you don’t know most of them, it’s gonna be even better. Kinda wanna see you as Luke from Gilmore Girls.”

“Great,” he drags the word sarcastically. “And what about you?”

“I’m always the main character, baby, everywhere I go.” You give him a mischievous grin, raising the remote over your head. “See you there.” 

He watched you in amusement as you press the ‘on’ button before falling straight into the TV set.

The world goes dark.

**

When you open your eyes again, you’re in front of a wooden door, an entrance to the large grey building. 

The remote’s not in your hand. There’s a slight moment of panic before you feel the strain of a sling bag on your shoulder. You rummage haphazardly through the contents, finally letting out a breath of relief when you find the remote under a bunch of pens and other knick-knacks.

You push the doors open, and take a step into the establishment, almost immediately greeted by the sight of Bucky standing at the bar. Behind the bar, actually. 

There’s a towel thrown over his shoulder, a blue flannel adorning his body and a half-empty bottle of tequila in his hand.

The doorbell tinging alerts him to your presence.

“Y/N.” 

“James,” you reciprocate, making your way over to the barstools. “You’re bartending.”

He motions at his state. “Apparently I am.” 

Where had you seen this particular bar before? With its u-shaped counter and solid wooden furniture, a TV mounted at the apex of the alcohol shelf. The old jukebox in the corner is a hint, a bit of nostalgia but it’s ultimately the curved booths that are the key.

“New Girl.” You twist your body around. “We’re in New Girl. And so that makes you...”

“A fucking bartender,” he repeats. “What am I doing here?”

Nick goddamn Miller.

A grin curves upwards on your face. “I’d like an Old Fashioned.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head, placing the bottle of tequila far away from your immediate reach. 

“The most complicated drink you have, then, barkeep,” you declare, settling in and making yourself more comfortable on the stool. 

Bucky dips below the counter before rising again. He drops a water bottle in front of you. “No.”

“C’mon,” you urge. “I’m a teacher, I’m basically your Jessica Day.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Bore. That wasn’t going to keep you from having fun. “What’s happening? Why am I wearing this... thing?”

He picks at the faded flannel that had a few holes near its hem. Definitely a Nick Miller shirt.

“You’re in character, Bucko.” You watch as he pulls the towel away from his shoulder and drops it on the floor. “I can totally see why you picked this guy.”

“I didn’t pick him-”

“Constantly irritated, the personality of an old man, in love with a teacher.” You sigh dreamily. “One and the same.” 

“I didn’t sign up for Comic Con today,” he interrupts, looking for the slab to lift so he could make his way over to you. 

“How do you know what Comic Con is?” You follow his movements, one leg on the floor in case you had to make a run for it. 

He doesn’t reply, focusing on lifting the counter so he can get it done with. The countertop doesn’t budge. He tries to jump over it but something that feels like a forcefield repulses him backwards, preventing him from doing so.

“Why can’t I get out of here?”

“Plot demands that you stay there.” You take a sip innocently, pulling your seat a few feet away from the counter. “Nick Miller never crosses the bar. It’s a whole thing.”

He turns around, exposing his back to you as he tries to scout for another way.

“What else can’t I do here?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, taking a look around for any sort of clue. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“How am I supposed to fix this then?” He rolls his eyes. He had a few ways but they were semi-violent and for international criminals, not you. 

“Get me drunk and maybe I’ll let you steal the remote.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “We can even play spin the bottle.”

Bucky stares at you long and hard before reaching over and grabbing his previously discarded bottle of tequila.

“I was kidding.” You snort. “You gotta try harder than getting me drunk. Although, I’m still up for the spin the bottle.”

“You're serious about the hitting on me thing.” He looks at you in slight disdain.

“I would never joke about that,” you swear, turning the cap on your water bottle before jumping off. “Anyway, see you soon.”

“Where you going?” His eyebrows pull low.

You look down at your watch before glancing up at him again. 

“Channel’s changing.” You stick your finger up and he follows where you’re pointing. 

The bar starts fading into a field of static, bringing the familiar white noise from your past along with it before everything goes black.

You look around, finding nothing but yourself in the vast expanse of the void. Existential. 

Nice.

The brief seconds you get to yourself, you think about how you didn’t get a choice in which character you got to play but you wondered if he did. If he was choosing on purpose to play someone reluctantly in love with you- well, the feeling you had in your stomach was one that you were going to equate to butterflies. 

**

When the world suddenly snaps back into colour, you’re not upright.

You’re sitting in the driver’s seat with your hands on the steering wheel, foot on the pedal.

There’s a Creedence Clearwater Revival song playing softly on the radio of the sleek, black muscle car you’re driving.

“What the-” You look down at your clothes, running your hand over your jacket, patting yourself down. “A lumberjack? Why am I playing a lumberjack?”

There were so many layers, at least three from what you could make out. A t-shirt, an overshirt and a jacket on top of that. No wonder the AC was on full blast, it was absolutely scorching. 

“Keep your eyes on the fuckin’ road!” A voice yells from behind you, yanking the steering wheel away from the series of blaring honks and bright lights that almost blind you. A truck passes by, its driver sticking his head out the window to curse at you.

“Mr. Barnes, what are you doing back there?” You ignore the possible life and death situation that might have occurred a few seconds ago since it was irrelevant by now. “Am I your chauffeur?” 

“Fuck if I know.” You look at him through the rearview mirror.

Besides the scowl on his face, his hair was parted down the side, he wore a white button-up, a tie and a black blazer but the most damning piece of evidence:

A beige trench coat.

Your mind races to put it together before the fucking car and the woodcutter attire suddenly make sense.

“Oh, my God.” It’s a little concerning how hard you laugh. “Shit, are you supposed to be Castiel?”

“Who?” He glared at you from the rearview mirror.

“Fuck, that means I’m Dean.” You glance down at your outfit again. “Is Supernatural still going on?”

“Eyes on the road,” he barks again from his seat. Supernatural? He’d definitely heard of the show, even seen a few out of context Reels on Instagram. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes. “Because this show is known for permanently killing off characters. You die and come back, like, every five minutes.” Ah, so just like his friends in real life. 

“Give me the remote” He leans forward in the space between the passenger and driver’s seat. “I’m already sick of this.”

A screech of the tires follows your jerking of the steering wheel to the right, throwing him to the backseat as the car lurched to the other lane.

“I’m in control here, Bucko,” you chortle, giving him a once over to make sure he was fine. “Plus the remote’s not in my pocket, I can’t feel it.

You couldn’t feel it when you ran your hands down your jacket. The lack of command you had over where the remote landed was definitely a glitch you hadn’t considered, but made a mental note of. 

“Then where is it?” He checks to see if it’s maybe in his pocket. No such luck. “Your inator is a mess.” 

“You’re my angel boyfriend, you’re supposed to be nice to me.” You watch his movements to see what he was up to. “Did you pick your character on purpose?”

“I’m not your boyfriend.” He rolls his eyes, checking the backseat and under the cushion to see if it was anywhere there. 

“Yet.” You grin at him. “And judging by the show, you won’t ever be but we can make it happen in real life.”

“No,” he denies simply, leaning forward to open the glove compartment when he realised it wasn’t at the back. “And I didn’t pick my character.”

“At all?”

He grunts in affirmation, hand jutting out to keep his balance as he checked under your seat. 

“That’s weird, I made sure it was programmed to let you do that.” Your tongue pushed against your cheek in contemplation. “Huh.” 

Guess there were more glitches than you thought. 

You swerve the car again and he’s worried that the passenger’s side headrest might just snap under the grip of his metal arm. 

“Even then, you know, I don’t think it’s fate that we’re playing two people in love for the second time,” you sing as if you didn’t pull the car onto a different lane and back within a second. “We’re meant to be.”

“Stop doing that,” he hisses, straightening himself again from where he was pressed against the door. 

“Doing what?” 

“Driving like a maniac,” he fires, grabbing hold of both the headrests this time.

“Oh, so you’re fine with the flirting?” Your lips curve upwards into a smile. 

“Couldn’t stop that even if I tried, now could I?” he mumbles sardonically, eyeing the road ahead for any possible reason for you to swerve into the other lane. There’s a car in the distance, a guarantee that you won’t repeat your behaviour. Hopefully.

“I would if you wanted me to.” You catch his gaze in the mirror. “You just have to say the word.”

He looks at your reflection, realising that you were dead serious about it too, no hint of a joke on your face. 

“Move,” he commands instead, climbing into the front seat, ungracefully shoving your head in the process. 

He supposes that was answer enough. 

There’s no denying the little smile that makes its way onto your face which you drop immediately in favour of indignation when he clumsily lands beside you.

“There’s no point in getting the remote, Bucky,” you protest, pushing him away with one hand. “We could rather be making history on this show by dating. I already know you’re in love with me so this should be easy.”

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears turning pink as he reached over to the glove compartment. You waste no opportunity, clearly.

“We have like 3 seconds left.” You scoff, looking for a second at your watch. “Where are we going next on the list of shows that never end? The Walking Dead? Grey’s Anatomy?”

Just as he opens the compartment the trees outside melt into grey, the white noise making a return as the car disappears from under you. 

You wonder if he’s in his little void too when your world goes dark. 

**

You blink rapidly to adjust to the sunlight beating down on you with the mid-noon heat. 

You’re on what looks like a large farmland. Dirt caked your limbs and you had the rattiest clothes on, ones that clearly hadn’t seen the washing machine in a while. 

“Ugh.” Sweat dripped from your forehead to your chin and you wiped it off with your forearm. 

“Let’s keep it moving people.” You wouldn’t mistake his voice for anyone else, no matter how far away he was from you.

Bucky had a bomber jacket on, a rifle pressed to his side and mud streaked across his face as he hustles a group of people down a path leading to a mansion. 

And though he’s hurrying and seems like he’s in a state of worry, judging by the constant glances he gives over his shoulder, what really catches your attention is the stupid fucking sheriff’s hat he has on his head.

“Sarge!” you call out, waving your hands over your head to catch his attention. You’re a considerable distance down the road away from him, somehow isolated from the rest of the group.

You can see him mouth a ‘what the’ before stalking towards you.

The dumb thing on his head looks even more ridiculous up close. 

“Now I know you wouldn’t choose to wear that.” You stifle a laugh, hands on your hips as you gave him a once over. “But from the neck down, you look really hot.”

He looks at you blankly. “The Walkers are coming.”

“What wa- oh, is that where we are?” you squint, doing a survey of your surroundings. “The fuckin’ Walking Dead?”

“Keep your volume down and get inside,” he hisses, pointing to the house down the path.

“I was kidding about the shows that didn’t end.” You pay no attention to him, instead, a little scoff escaping you in disbelief. “I didn’t think we’d actually show up here, what the fuck?”

“They’re coming.”

“Would you relax, none of this is going to matter in a minute. Aren’t there supposed to be zombies?” You shield your eyes from the sun as you stand on your toes to try and see beyond the horizon. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be playing but let’s makeout anyway.”

He doesn’t curse or groan at your stupid attempt to hit on him.

Instead, he freezes for a second, eyes trailing over your shoulder. 

“What?” You follow his line of sight, craning your body to do so.

Your ears picked up the sound of several leaves cracking under heavy feet, low groans and strangled cries nearing in the distance.

“Oh, there they are. Hello.” You watched the herd of dead people stumble their way towards you with a vengeance. “This is so stupid. They walk, like, one mile an hour. We’ll be gone by then-”

The next thing you hear is a gun cocking before a bullet whizzes past your head and lodges itself into the head of the Walker nearest to you. 

“Bucky, holy shit, don’t do that.” You press your hand to your chest to calm down the racing heartbeat. “Give me a warning at least.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He frowns, loading more bullets into the gun.

“What do you mean who’s Bucky?” Your eyebrows knit together. “What kinda dialogue is that?”

“I don’t know who you are but you need to leave,” he demands, raising the stupid rifle again. “Get back to the house.”

“Why, so you can trap me and steal the remote? Ha no, nice try.” You narrow your eyes. “This is changing in thirty seconds.”

“What remote?” He cocks the gun again.

He fires another shot behind you and you yelp, jumping slightly. “Motherfucker, stop doing that! Is this supposed to be revenge for the dumb car thing?”

“What’s changing?” He catches your gaze, a serious question posed on his lips.

“The channel.” You mentioned around. “You know, we shift to another one in twenty seconds. You’re supposed to find the remote?”

Speaking of which, you had no idea where it was. You didn’t consider outfits without a pocket to be a possibility but apparently, the television world did, and the remote was probably sprawled somewhere on the grass.

Or maybe it was under Bucky’s ridiculous hat. 

You snickered at the thought. 

“What are you talking about?” The confusion on his face is evident as he lowers the gun.

You frown. “What do you mean, what am I talking about?” 

He doesn’t answer instead shouting a quick “Run!” before firing a shot behind you.

The static returns again, the white noise drowning out the cries of the undead for two seconds before it stops again.

The world changes to black but the frown on your face remains.

Was he fucking with you or was this genuinely a glitch in the system?

**

You’re indoors this time. The room is messy, filled to the brim with a bunch of knick knacks all around you. The ventilation is poor, none of the stained glass windows an inlet for fresh air. 

There’s a can of God knows what in your hand and a Bible in front of you on the table where you’re seated. 

“What’s with all the alcohol?” you scoff, lifting the can to inspect it. “I told you, it’s not gonna work.” 

He clears his throat and you look to your left.

Oh fuck.

He was dressed in a black clergy shirt with a clerical colour, his prince hair slightly messy, and the same can as yours in his hand. You don’t even need to think to be able to recognise who he’s supposed to be. 

Jesus.

“You’re the hot- I mean cool- priest,” you mumble, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “From Fleabag.”

“A cool priest?” He laughs and holy shit, you’ve never seen anything more attractive on a person before. “No, I’m a big reader with no friends.”

He knew the dialogue? You didn’t know he watched the show.

“Uh huh.” You think you say that. You may be staring too hard at the smile on his face to actually formulate words.

“Are you a cool person?” Bucky asks instead, raising the can to his lips to take a swig. 

Was this his plan? To fluster you enough to surrender?

“The coolest.” That was definitely not the dialogue from the show but who cares at this point. 

Hell, his plan may just be working. 

“Oh, the coolest?” The expression on his face is so easy, so content that you wonder why you don’t see it more often. He looks amused and gosh, real pretty when he smiled like that. “What makes you the coolest person?”

He should not look that good. He should not look that good.

“Um-” you shake your head, snapping yourself out of it. 

“Are you okay?” There’s a crease that appears between his eyebrows in concern.

You cannot crush on a priest. Fuck that, you cannot crush on Bucky as a priest.

“Uh huh.” You nod, looking for the can in front of you to give you a reason not to stare at his stupid face. “You’re really playing into this character, aren’t you? I almost believe you could be a priest.”

“I’m glad it’s believable.” He gives a slightly confused laugh, “considering, you know, it’s my job.”

“Right,” you deadpan. “You’re totally not trying to seduce me into giving you the remote. Well, it didn’t work in Walking Dead, and it’s not going to work now, no matter how hot you look.”

He raises an eyebrow, not knowing how to respond. “Thank you?”

There was a minute left. Exactly how long had you been staring at him?

“Actually, I’m not sure where it is.” You shuffle around in your seat to look for it, somewhat of a distraction. “Did you see it fall anywhere when we showed up here?”

“Where what is?”

“The remote.” You check under your chair, but it isn’t there. 

When you come back up, the intensity with which he’s looking at you causes your stomach to flutter. Fuckin’ hell.

“I have to be honest, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He leans forward again, leaning his weight on his elbows.

“That’s real subtle, Buck.” You snort, a sort of uneasiness spreading within you. “You're a good actor.”

He doesn’t respond but the smile on his face does falter a bit.

A second of silence passes by when neither of you say anything. 

Fifteen seconds to go, a voice in your head reminds you. 

He doesn’t make any effort to say anything, only waiting for your next move.

Stop staring at him.

“I need to ask you something and I need you to be serious.” You clear your throat, lips pressing together.

“Go ahead.” He nods, listening intently. 

“Are you fucking around or is something actually wrong?” 

There’s a beat of silence between you both.

Bucky tilts his head in confusion. “I'm afraid I don’t get your reference?”

Something was definitely up.

Five seconds.

“Where’s the fucking remote?” you discard any other objective you had, focusing on finding your exit out of that show. Maybe the glitch would work itself out if you turned the whole system on and off. 

“Why are you so interested in searching for this remote?” He tries to get off his chair to come your aid even though he has no idea what was going on, but something tugs him back down, forcing him to sit there. Fucking plot convenience. 

“This is no fun if you’re not actively getting annoyed,” you whine. “And it’s sad because you look really cute when you’re happy.”

“Thank you?” he asks again but you don’t look at him when the void returns, sighing instead as you rest your hand on your knees.

**

This time, the second you open your eyes you’re on the prowl for the dumb gadget. 

He’s in front of you with possibly the worst combination of clothes that day. His denim sherpa jacket, grey-black flannel and maroon t-shirt just didn’t sit right on him.

Your eyes trail upwards, finding all his hair, but a side swoop in the front, pushed under a beanie. You scoff. He looked like an amalgamation of every grown man Netflix tries to pass off as a teenager.

“Who on earth put you in that fugly beanie?” You look around. “Actually, I don’t care. Help me find the remote.”

You pulled up chairs and boxes off the floor, nose twitching in disdain at the state of the dingy room you were in. The utter lack of proper lighting made it more difficult for you.

“In case you haven’t noticed-” he starts from above.

You freeze, countless memes and edits flooding into your head as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

“Oh, my God.” Your eyes widen, knowing immediately what you were about to listen to. 

“I’m weird. I’m a weirdo-” he says, completely seriously, a little faster than how he usually talked. 

“No. Nope. Nuh uh.” You scramble for the remote, find it a few feet away from you under a recliner. 

“I don’t fit in. And I don’t want to fit in-” He lifts his hands to his mouth, thinking about what he wanted to say.

“This is literally the worst case scenario, fuck.” You hold your finger up to him. “Bucky, shut up or you’re gonna have trauma for the rest of your life.”

“Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on?” People actually got paid to write this shit. 

“And he said it,” you mumble, pressing any fucking button that would take you away from Riverdale and hopefully give you time to figure out what was going on. 

“That’s weird-” this overgrown variant of Jughead continued, much to your despair.

“Shut up.” You click the button to jump to the next channel, sighing in relief when the static noise drowns out the last part of his monologue.

The void is welcoming this time.

**

This world is very distinctly different, a huge contrast from the earlier alternatives. 

“You have got to be shitting me.” Your jaw drops. “A fuckin’ cartoon?”

Wherever you were, it shared too many similar elements with your lab to not be someone’s evil headquarters. And it was all animated, things that you weren’t going to use that episode duller and blended into the background. 

At least the ventilation was good. It was an open balcony building, possibly on the highest floor, broad daylight. 

You flip your hand over and over again, the 2D rendering not giving you anything other than two sides. At least it confirmed that you weren’t just seeing things. 

You look down at yourself. There was a lab coat over your black turtleneck and green pants fitted on your waist. Where had you seen this outfit before?

Someone crashes through a window that logically shouldn’t have even been there, doing a tuck and roll before sticking their superhero landing.

“Who the fuck-” 

Even he was in 2D. His face was covered by the shadow of his fedora, giving you no way of looking at his expression.

“A secret agent?” you ask in confusion, words spilling out of your mouth against your will.

Shit, were you losing control too?

He rolls his eyes before ripping off the left sleeve of his shirt, his metal arm on full display. 

“Bucky Barnes the secret agent?!” Your mouth moves on instinct before you slap a hand over it. Of course it was Bucky, who else would it fucking be?

You halt for a second.

Okay, why did he look hot as a cartoon character?

His black camo pants and full sleeve t-shirt hugged him nicely, exaggerated dimensions of his body showcased under the cloth. Generally, everything about him was the same as usual except the brown fedora perched on his head.

“Fuck no, are we supposed to be in Phineas and Ferb?”

He stares at you silently, analysing your body language in anticipation of your next move.

“Are you the fucking platypus?” Your jaw drops open in disbelief. “You’re, like, Agent B?”

He opens his mouth to say something but you hold up a finger. You’re not sure you could emotionally handle him chattering his teeth like the actual creature. 

“That makes me the German scientist guy.” You look around the lab that was decorated in shades of purple. “This relationship doesn’t even make sense. How are we related to this?”

You peer at him, only to find him unmoving. 

“Well, don’t just stand there.” You straighten your spine from the hunchback assigned to you. “Help me find the remote so we can go home.”

His brows were pulled into a scowl, body rigid.

“Wow, fine. I see why you got assigned him now,” you mumble, surveying the several countertops around you. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

It finally catches your eye, a couple of meters away, in brighter and sharper colours than anything else. You loved the cartoon world for this nifty little detail.

You stalk towards it, bending over to grab it off the floor.

Something harsh knocks it out of your grip. You look up to see Bucky right in front of you, hand blocking yours.

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You roll your eyes. “So now the plot lets you fight me?”

He only lowers his head in challenge. 

“This is completely unnecessary.” You bend over to try again.

His forearm shoots out to block yours, your other hand grabbing onto his to pull it away from you. You could fight him, you had enough training to do so, but you had no idea how long this could go on for.

“You’re not going to let me win.” And there were thirty seconds to go. 

He shakes his head.

“And if I don’t, we’re both going to keep going at this forever,” you voice to yourself, thinking over all the options.

You look at him one more time in his little costume and stupid tiny hat before deciding. 

You do a sweep with your leg, kicking the remote towards him.

“Fine. Pick it up.” You gesture. 

Bucky doesn’t move, suspicion turning his eyes to slits.

“I’m not kidding, pick it up. I’m not gonna fight you,” you insist. “I promise.”

That seems to be enough for him, even in this world, as he crouches down slowly to pick it up, never once breaking eye contact with you. 

“Go back to your little agency and tell them you won.” You shoo him, German accent suddenly slipping into your sentence. “Go on then.”

He takes a single step back to judge your reaction. When you don’t make a move to stop him he turns around to leave, only occasionally glancing at you over his shoulder. 

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Zero,” you whisper as soon as the static returns, the loud white noise immediately accompanying it. 

He looks up in bewilderment and you take advantage of his momentary confusion, launching yourself onto his back, leaving him staggering. 

“Hello.” You whisper into his ear, leaving him no time to whip around and look at you. 

His hands automatically move to pull you off him but you slam the off switch on the remote still in his grip. You jump off his back, not before pulling the gadget out of his hand. 

The world swirls and twists like a damn washing machine, forcefully throwing you in and out of new characters and scenes rapidly.

“Identity theft is not a joke!” You watch from the reception.

The both of you are on an orange couch in a coffee shop, a plate of food on his lap.

“I am the devil!” you yell at Bucky who shakes his head, scoffing in disbelief. 

You’re staring at a series of alphabets on the wall painted rustically in black, Christmas lights strung across them. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” What was with the knight’s helmet on his head?

A diner table with him serving you coffee, hair tucked away in a backwards baseball cap.

“Fine, make me your villain,” he leans back, eyes dark.

You’re in a high tech control room with orange accents, staring at several screens.

“Cool, cool, cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt.”

Hundreds of outfits and dialogues from shows whiz past you within a second until you’re suddenly sucked out of the TV set and into the real world.

You blink swiftly to get rid of the stupid dots floating around your eyes but act in a hurry, throwing the remote on the ground and crushing it under your foot.

“Y/N?” 

“Hey, sarge.” You take a few steps back, breathing heavily. 

“What just happened?” Bucky squints at you.

“Well-” You’re just glad he’s back to himself. ”-I think you kicked my ass.”

“I destroyed the remote.” He rubs at his eyes, gaze flitting down to where the pieces lay on the ground in front of him. “I don’t remember doing that.”

“Good, it’ll save me the embarrassment,” you cover up, straightening out the clothes you were wearing from that morning. “If it helps, you looked damn good while doing it.”

He only hums and you finally feel yourself calm down. “We done for the day?”

“Think so.” You needed a drink. Or maybe a teen magazine quiz to determine whether you only found Bucky hot or you found Bucky hot. 

“See you next week then.”

“Unless you wanna stay here and play spin the bottle,” you propose casually, shoving the TV off the table to the ground. Never again.

Bucky snorts before turning on his heel to leave. You exhale slightly. 

“We’re not at that episode,” he calls out without turning around, “yet.” 

Your jaw drops. “Are you flirting with me?”

He only shuts the door behind him as he walks out. 

here’s a list of shows referenced!

all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards fuel for this crackhead fic so if you’d like to support my writing <333

Next part

[birdiefw]

LET ME SHOW YOU | SAM WINCHESTER [SMUT 18+]

Summary: Having been turned on all day, you decide you can’t wait any longer and lead somewhere more private.

Warnings: swearing, teasing, oral (female receiving), impala sex (unprotected but y’all can pretend otherwise)

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an imagine, and technically this one is meant for my Sam Winchester fic on Wattpad so it wasn’t intended to be an imagine, but I figured it could work as one so here it is lmao. Also, destiel is pretty much implied in this, but you’re free to see Dean and Cas however you want. I also edited this, but I apologize for any errors or if it says her/she/birdie (who is my spn oc) instead of you/your/etc!

You felt like your entire body had been set on fire without warning. Your skin was incredibly warm as you tried to remain still, feeling like your body was getting hotter and hotter despite how cold it actually was inside the bunker. Your hair was pushed back so it would stop clinging to your neck/sides of your face, your mind unable to focus on your laptop that was placed in front of you as something else was taking over all of your senses.

You were very aware of the fact that you weren’t alone in the library, twisting and pursing your lips together as you tried to ignore the rampant thoughts that kept popping into your mind every time your gaze flickered over to Sam. But, every time your eyes fell on your husband, you couldn’t help but admire his stunning features, picturing all of the sides you’d seen of him in your many years of being a couple—some of which only made the ache between your legs increase.

You bit her lip when you looked away from him again, trying to force the thoughts aside; you desperately hoped you’d be alone soon.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up from your laptop that had started dim from your lack of actually doing anything on it in the last few minutes, eyes slightly widened as you looked across at Castiel who was sat in front of you, his bright blue eyes pinned to your features.

“What?” you asked, glancing aside at Sam and Dean who were both staring at you with confusion much like Castiel.

“We were askin’ if you found anything,” Dean said, noticing how your laptop had dimmed.

“Oh, uh, I—no. Not yet, anyways,” you answered with a heavy sigh, briefly glancing towards Sam before your eyes swiveled to Dean and then Castiel.

“Are you feeling okay?” Castiel wondered, curiously tilting his head at you. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“Thanks, Cas,” you sarcastically said, giving him a fake smile as you folded your arms over your chest and crossed your legs. “I can always count on you for a pick me up, can’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, a faint frown appearing on his lips.

Sam’s lips turned into a frown, noting that you did look rather pale compared to usual. You looked slightly sweaty, eyes looking more dark than normal. You easily noticed the change in Sam’s expression, quickly shaking your head as you closed your laptop; there was no point in keeping it open, anyways. “I’m fine,” you firmly told him, giving him a look when you saw him shoot you a similar look.

“You sure?” Dean asked, curiously eyeing you from the seat next to you.

“Yes, I’m sure, Dean,” you said, flashing a perky smile on your lips as if it would assure the three men.

Dean shook his head with a small smile appearing on his lips, closing his own laptop. He could tell something was off with you, but knowing Sam wouldn’t let it go, he decided against pushing the subject. “Alright, whatever you say, Y/N,” he said. Then his eyes flickered over to Castiel, nudging his head to the side as he started to stand up from the table. “Come on, you still gotta finish watchin’ Seven.”

Castiel warmly smiled, looking at Sam and you as he stood up from the chair. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Cas,” you and Sam said in unison, smiling back at the angel.

Dean tucked his laptop under his arm, silently nodding towards his brother and you as he waited for Castiel. You and Sam quietly watched them walk away, a grin lingering on your lips until they were gone.

You let out a heavily sigh and leaned your head back, puffing out your cheeks. Sam stood up from his own chair and headed over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You jumped at the sudden touch, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fuck,” you whispered, letting out a breath of relief as you realized it was only Sam, “You almost sent me into cardiac arrest.”

Sam softly laughed, innocently raising his hands as he sat on the table, peering down at you. You shook her head as you stood up, adjusting Sam’s flannel that you wore over a pair of leggings, pushing the sleeves up to your elbows. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, babe?” he asked, genuine concern etched on his features as you stood in front of him. “You’re pretty warm.”

You let out a sigh, glancing around to make sure Dean nor Castiel were around at the moment. “I-I’m not sick, I promise,” you said, looking at your husband. “I’m just. . .”

Sam softly gazed at you when she lowered you head, warmly smiling as he lifted his hand to you chin to make you look at him again. “Just what?”

You coyly smiled, a thought suddenly occurring to you. “Let me show you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips tweaked up into a smirk, finally noticing the look that was swirling around in your eyes. ‘I should’ve known,’ he thought to himself, already feeling himself start to grow hot with anticipation. You eagerly took his larger hand in yours, tugging him in the opposite direction of their shared bedroom.

You giddily giggled as you hurried down the narrow halls of the bunker, tugging Sam towards the garage with a devilish smirk appearing on your lips, stealing a glance behind you to make sure that Dean nor Castiel hadn’t left the room for some reason. “You don’t think they have plans to actually go anywhere tonight after their movie, do you?” You asked Sam, carefully walking with your back facing the spacious garage while your intense gaze was pinned to Sam as your warm hand still clutched his in your own.

“God I fuckin’ hope not,” Sam breathlessly replied, eyes lighting up with a rush of excitement as you guided him over to the Impala.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as the two of you came up to the side of the Impala, standing beside one of the back doors as you fully faced Sam, body even warmer than before.

“Well, even if they do. . .” You softly said, trailing one of your hands up one of Sam’s buff arms, fingertips trailing up until they reached his stubbly jaw. Your eyes flickered to his, seeing his usually bright eyes had darkened a few shades as they took in your features. Your smirk instantly widened, peering up at Sam. “They’ll just have to wait.”

“Is that so?” Sam asked in a low tone, taking a few steps closer so you were pressed up against the Impala, your chests almost pressed together as he stood in front of you with his hands softly caressing your hips. “Well, how much longer are you gonna make me wait?”

“I don’t know yet,” you teased, running a few of your fingers along his bottom lip. “You were teasing me all day pretty much with your soft hair, your kissable lips. . .”

Sam darkly chuckled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as your words made his excitement increase. “Then let me make it up to you.”

You leaned forward in response, Sam quickly bending his head down to connect you lips when she moved towards him. One of your hands automatically went to his shaggy hair, gently tugging on it to elicit a low groan from Sam. You smiled with approval, feeling one of his hands go to your lower back and press your body up against his while the other went to the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair. Your soft lips parted as the kiss became more needy, giving Sam access to explore your mouth like his life depended on it.

Sam’s hand moved from your back and to the handle off to the side, quickly finding it and pulling it open with a grunt. “After you,” Sam panted.

You excitedly grinned and crawled into the backseat, seeing Sam steal a glance around the garage to make sure no one was around before climbing inside as well and closing the door behind him. You eagerly leaned forward, connecting your lips once more as your fingers started to undo the buttons of the flannel Sam wore. Sam grinned into the kiss, assisting you with removing the shirt before carelessly tossing it to the side. Then he broke apart from the kiss, discarding the plain gray shirt he’d been wearing underneath as you started to undo the buttons of the flannel you had on.

Sam reconnected your lips just as she finished unbuttoning it. You giggled, going to shrug it off until one of Sam’s hands stopped you. “Seeing you in my clothes drives me absolutely crazy. . .I wanna see you come undone with it on.”

You let out a shaky breath at his words, lowering your hands. You bit her lip and cupped his cheeks in your clammy hands, firmly kissing him. “I love you,” you told him.

Sam grinned, giving you a quick peck in return. “I love you too,” he murmured, one hand trailing down your sides, stopping along the side of your thigh as his other hand guided you to scoot back more and lay against the back of the leather seat. “And, I wanna show you. . .just how. . .much,” he gruffly said, pecking your cheek, nose, and chin as he spoke.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked in a deep breath, feeling Sam kiss along your neck. “God. . .” You whispered, involuntarily bucking your hips up as one hand gripped his hair again.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam murmured against your hot skin, his hand still caressing her thigh, setting her entire body on fire even more with just a simple touch.

“Please, Sam,” you whimpered, catching his gaze.

Sam slowly moved down your body, reaching for the hem of your leggings. “Wearing a skirt today woulda made this a lot easier,” he said, causing a laugh to erupt from you as he started to tug down your skin tight leggings. You lifted your hips, helping him to discard both your leggings and panties as quick as possible. “But, they don’t show off your ass as well as these do.”

You bit her lip at his words, your heart starting to beat even faster as Sam settled himself between your legs. The corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, easing your legs apart with one leg settling over his shoulder and the other over the seat with your foot planted on the ground. Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours as he scooted closer, blowing on you gently. Your head instantly fell back, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I really was turnin’ you on without even touching you, huh,” Sam said, one hand caressing your inner thigh. You merely whimpered in response, lifting your head just in time to see him dive in to your center.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he expertly dragged his tongue through her heat, feeling Sam slip one arm under your leg, keeping her close. “Shit, Sam!” You gasped in pure pleasure, lips parted and brows furrowed as you sat up on her elbows, breathlessly watching him move against you core; he knew just what to do to get you even more turned on and screaming his name. He looked up at you, groaning against you when you bit her lip and leaned your head back again. “Oh, fuck!”

He swirled his tongue through your center, circling around your clit as he fastened his pace. “You’re being more quiet than usual,” Sam said in between licks, causing you to groan at the uneven pace. “Don’t want Dean or Cas to hear how gorgeous you sound?”

“I—please, Sam,” you gasped.

“What was that?” Sam asked, lightly licking at you heat.

You panted, looking at him with desperation. “Please, Sam! Fuck!”

Sam flattened his tongue against your center to give you exactly what you wanted, seeing you close your eyes in pleasure. He got a steady movement, going faster when you started to moan louder. One of your hands reached down, tightly gripping his hair as you moved against his mouth. Sam moaned against you, nearly getting off just by watching you fall apart with only the use of his skillful tongue.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned, eyes screwed shut as you felt herself getting closer and closer. Sam could tell too, fastening his pace as you tightened your grip on his hair, a loud moan erupting from your parted lips as you arched your back. “Sam! Shit, I-I—”

“I got you, baby,” Sam said, knowing you were incredibly close. “I got you.”

With those words, you came against his mouth, your loud moans filling the Impala as Sam continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm. Your grip on his hair loosened while your hips stilled against his mouth, chest rising and falling quickly as your eyes remained closed with complete bliss.

“Holy fuck,” you said after a few moments, opening your eyes when you felt Sam crawl on top of you. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss without a second thought. He eagerly kissed you back, lowering his body so you were closer together while one of his hands traveled down between your legs.

You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slipped through you, opening your eyes to look at him. “I think it’s your turn now,” you told him, going to reach down to his pants until he shifted to sit up.

“Later,” he breathed out, starting to undo the buttons of his pants. “I just need you.”

You sat up as well, Sam’s flannel sticking to her skin even more than before, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Your hands quickly moved to help Sam, giggling with joy as he removed his pants and boxers, kicking them off into the floor. Your eyes flickered up to his again, biting your lip. “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam eagerly said, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to his lap without a moment to waist.

You giggled again, looking down at his hard member as you straddled his waist. “Someone sure is excited.”

“Hard not to be when I just watched you get off on my tongue,” Sam replied in a gruff voice, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you, not just with lust, but also pure love.

You whimpered at that, reaching down and giving him a few strokes. You watched Sam’s eyes flutter close at your gentle touch, lips parting with a breathy moan; you got turned on by his reactions just as much as Sam did with you. You shifted slightly, lining yourself up with him before slowly sinking down.

Your and Sam’s moans filled the Impala at the feeling, Sam’s hands automatically going to grip your waist as he filled you up. Sam bit his lip with anticipation, waiting for you to make sure it was okay to move before he did anything. You leaned forward slightly, planting your hands on Sam’s chiseled chest, starting to move against him as you locked eyes with him.

“Fuuuuck,” Sam groaned, his nails digging into your hips as you slid up and down. “Just like that, baby.”

“I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you breathlessly admitted, fastening your pace. You and Sam moaned again, your nails scratching at his chest as you moved your hands up and down his body. Sam loudly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out with pleasure.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” Sam panted, his eyes rolling back as you leaned down and gave attention to his neck. “So fucking perfect.”

You moaned as well, connecting your lips in a messy kiss while Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Fuck. . .” You whispered, “I love you too. . .so so fucking much.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Sam moaned as you nipped at his dampened neck, hands running up and down his abs.

“Faster, baby,” you whispered into his ear, heart beating faster as you and Sam got closer.

Sam grunted, tightening his grip on you as he picked up the pace. You started to lose her own rhythm, your hips shaking as you rode him, your orgasm growing closer and closer. “Sam, I’m. . .”

Sam lurched forward, pulling you further into his lap with your bare chest pressed against his own, the flannel pushed back and exposing your entire chest to him. His hips moved up into you as he hungrily kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours while his hands moved to cradle the back of your head.

Sam grunted, his forehead resting against yours as the Impala rocked back and forth, no doubt making it obvious what was going on inside if anyone were to enter the garage.

You meekly whimpered, feeling the knot in your stomach getting closer to finally snapping. “Sam!” You loudly moaned, many swear words and the repeat of his name getting drowned out as Sam pressed his mouth to yours again. Your hands went to his cheeks, holding him closer while Sam’s orgasm got closer and his fingers gently tugged on your hair. His hips smacked against yours faster, the sound filling the steamy Impala alongside your loud moans. You clenched around him as you came, making Sam groan into your mouth as he came seconds after you.

You pulled apart after a few moments, resting your clammy foreheads together as you finally started to catch your breaths, you still sat in Sam’s lap and his hands in your hair.

You warmly smiled as you locked eyes with Sam, his lips curling into a grin as his dimples poked out as well. “Maybe I should tease you more often, huh?” Sam asked.

You softly laughed, playfully rolling your eyes as you moved your hands to rest them on his damp shoulders. “You could, but two can play at that game, babe.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sam taunted.

You playfully narrowed your eyes, running a hand up and down one of his arms like you were in deep thought. “No, because you and I both know you would lose the first day.”

Sam breathed out a laugh, tilting his head. “Says the one who almost couldn’t wait till we were alone.”

You simply shrugged, a small smirk starting to appear on your lips. “Today I couldn’t,” you said, gently pushing him back down on the seat. Sam’s eyes slightly widened, brows raising. “But you just looked extra sexy and handsome today. You, on the other hand, can hardly keep your hands to yourself when you’re horny.”

“That’s not true,” Sam protested, going to speak again until you moved your hips, causing his head to fall back with pleasure.

You proudly smirked at his reaction, peering down at him. “Tell you what—let’s go again, and if you manage not to touch me, we can do that challenge.”

Sam breathed out a faint laugh, smirking back at you. “As long as you’re okay with not touching me. But, you and I both know that’ll be even harder for you than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, moving your hips again.

Sam let out a shaky breath, gazing up at you as his hands returned to your hips. “Yeah, we will.”

———

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback or send me some requests!

[collecting-stories]

Strawberry - Daryl Dixon

Request: Hi love! I adore your daryl dixon works and i was wondering if i would be able to request a scenario where you risk your life to save a baby that you found and daryl’s reaction (you still survive but it was a narrow escape) to your maternal instincts? 

A/N: I think I went a little off course with this one. To be fair, I tried it out three different ways and settled on this so hopefully it’s good. 

The Walking Dead Masterlist

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

The atmosphere at camp had taken a relatively negative turn after you’d gotten back from the run with Daryl. It didn’t help that you were injured, cuts so deep on your leg that if Daryl hadn’t vouched for them being caused by barbed wire you were sure Shane would’ve shot you on the spot, convinced you’d been bitten. Hershel had to stitch you up and you could hear Andrea bitching the entire time, voice carrying through the door, that this was all a liability. You, your recklessness, your injury, and, most importantly, the baby that you were holding on your lap for the entirety of Hershel’s work.  

A little girl without a name, she was wearing pink corduroy overalls with strawberries embroidered into them. The run, which should have been routine, had taken you and Daryl further into town. He’d been spending a lot of time looking for Sophia but when Glenn injured his ankle on a run, Rick nominated you and Daryl to head out in search of supplies.  

“When I told you to bring back whatever you could find,” Rick said, watching the baby skeptically, “I didn’t mean a baby.”

She was little more than five months old you guessed, trapped in a car seat in the back of an old Volkswagen that Glenn told you hadn’t been there when he passed through before. “Must’ve been other survivors, travelling through the area.” Everyone seemed to have an opinion on the baby and on your decision to save her, at great personal risk to yourself, but you tuned most of them out. Aside from situationally, most of these people weren’t ones you would ever actually spend time with and you didn’t care if the Andrea’s of the world passed judgement on your personal convictions.  

“How’s she doing?” The only one who had been surprisingly without criticism of your actions was the one person you had expected to admonish you for being reckless. Daryl sat down on the porch steps beside you, crossbow on his lap.  

You had seen the baby trying to outrun a hoard of walkers and get back to Daryl’s bike. She was inside the car, crying, and you had doubled back for her, nearly killing yourself when you caught your leg on a bundle of barbed wire from a downed fence. Daryl had cut it from your leg, part of your jeans ripping off with them as he pulled you and the baby to safety. He’d been the one to bandage you enough to get you back to the farm too, not a word to you the entire time.  

In all honesty, you were waiting for him to be angry. Maybe not yell because you hadn’t really experienced him yelling at you before, but certainly had heard him go at it with Shane a few times. And you expected something, at least a “yer stupid” but so far he hadn’t said anything.  

“Alright,” you shifted the baby in your arms and placed the empty bottle down between you and Daryl, “she finally ate.”

He nodded, glancing over at the baby as you laid her against your chest to burp her. “Yer good with her, ya got any experience with babies then?” He asked, more than you’d talked to him since Merle went missing, presumed dead. Probably more than you had spoken to him before that too.  

“I was the middle kid of nine,” you replied, “babies are pretty much part of my wiring. I always thought I’d have one.”

“Got one now.”

You laughed, maybe the first honest one since you’d wound up in Atlanta. Daryl wasn’t one to joke around and that, partially, had thrown you into the minor fit but, more over, he was right. As judgmental as Lori and Andrea and Shane wanted to be, this baby wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. None of them would as you to do that.  

“I guess I do.” You finally said, “I’m sorry for getting us all mixed up, by the way. I wasn’t trying to jeopardise your safety.”  

“I ain’t some heartless bastard, not gonna ask ya ta leave a kid ta die.” He replied.  

“Still, thought you’d have something to say about it. Everyone else seems to.”  

“Yeah well,” his hands worked to clean the crossbow and he paused his speech for a moment, full concentration on the weapon in his hands. He listened for any sign of footsteps or the possibility of somebody that might overhear the conversation. “Shane woulda just as soon shot ya both in the back.”  

“That’s true.”  

“Everybody’s losing that bit of ‘em...it’s good ya still got it.” He said quietly and you nodded because you understood what he was trying to say. The same thing that had him out there looking for Sophia had propelled you back to the car. And if he had seen the baby first he would’ve done the same thing.  

The baby made a quiet heaving noise before something akin to a giggle and you laid her on your thighs as you reached for the spit blanket that Maggie had given you. Daryl reached a hand over, steadying the baby she didn’t roll off your lap, the infant cooing at him and grabbing at his fingers.  

“I looked through her diaper bag,” you finally said, adjusting her again so she could sit up, facing her out to the yard and letting her look around at everything. She seemed transfixed with Daryl, reaching out for him and clapping her hands together when he gave her his hand back. “There’s no name or anything on it…not even on her tags.”  

“I ain’t good at naming things,” Daryl said, as if sensing that was why you’d brought it up. “Stray cat used to come in our yard ta eat and all I called him was kitty.”  

“Yeah…I’m gonna pass on naming her Baby.” You joked, “just figured since you were there when I found her.”  

“She’s all yours,” he replied hastily though he had set his crossbow aside to play with her. Not going so far as to take her off your lap but keeping her occupied, holding her attention.  

-

You pushed open the door to the jail cell, sliding the curtain out of the way as you slipped inside, surprised to see Daryl sitting on the bed in your tiny room, the baby on his lap. You had put her down for a nap only thirty minutes earlier, heading outside to check the snares with Rick and had come back in to make sure she was alright.

“Beth asked if I’d check on her,” Daryl said, not even looking away from her as you shut the curtain and pulled the chair over. “Said Judith was fussing.”

“Thanks, sorry I was out in the field...guess I shouldn’t be leaving her with everyone else if I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of her.” You joked. Lori was gone now but the admonishment had been from her. That if you so desperately wanted this baby around than you should be the one to care for her.  

“Ain’t just a job for one person.” Daryl replied, “she ain’t hard to take care of anyway.”

“That’s cause she likes you.” You observed. His cheeks flushed and he bowed his head, almost bashful at the thought and you just smiled like you hadn’t noticed his sudden behavior, turning your attention to the baby.  

-

“Frazier,” the little girl rocked back on her bottom, giggling when she met Daryl’s shins and tilting her head back to look up at him. Her knees and the palms of her hands were stained from the grass that she’d been tearing through.  

She smiled, rocking herself forward so that she could clumsily stand up, turning swiftly to face Daryl again as she reached her arms up for him. “Daddy!” The moniker was new, ever since Judith had started talking, calling Rick ‘dada’ when she saw him, Frazier had decided that she, too, required a dad. And, naturally, she had decided that it was Daryl.  

He shouldered the crossbow he was carrying and leaned down to scoop her up, doing his best to ignore the name. You’d suggested that maybe the term would die out as she got a little older but so far it was sticking and, while Daryl made like it bothered him, it didn’t really. Taking care of the baby, who you’d named from your mother’s side of the family, had seemingly brought the two of you closer. Or at least it had created a reason for Daryl to stay close to you. Looking out for the baby, as he always put it.  

“She’s been waiting all day for you.”  

Speak of the devil, he turned toward the house to see you coming out to greet them, still pulling a hoodie on to combat the chill that had settled into Alexandria. In the time between Hershel’s farm and now you had seen a lot of bloodshed, lost a lot of people. For a brief moment in time Daryl had been fairly positive he had lost the both of you too, but you had turned up in the woods outside of Terminus, Frazier right there with you.  

“Ya been keeping watch?” He asked, jostling her slightly and being rewarded when she giggled and nodded her head.  

“Yeah, no naps!”  

“Oh Lord,” he muttered, handing her off to you when you reached out for her.  

“Come on Frazier, let’s get some food?” You offered, carrying her towards the stairs. She twisted in your arms, reaching over your shoulder for Daryl as he followed behind you.  

For all the maternal instincts everyone always said that you had, you thought Daryl was just as protective and acutely aware of Frazier, and now Judith, as you were. He was just less obvious about it. Trying to pass it off as indifference when in actuality you had seen that side of him often and in excess.  

-

Taglist: @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @mainokutan @solllaris @twdeadfanfic @legit-emily @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @thanossexual @yespleasejayhalstead 

[archerdaryl]

I’ll Be Delicate

The reader shows Daryl Dixon that there’s still peace to be found in this world with soft words and delicate fingers.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 2.1k (approximately) Tags: sweet and soft with some humour n gloom, sfw Notes: Anon requested a simple hair braiding fic and I had to be extra and turn it into an entire comfort fic. I’m not sorry. 

@bakedcrispss​ @phoenixblack89​ @btsiguess-kpop​

Lanterns burnt low and the smell of sage and tobacco lingered in the air throughout the small but comfortable basement on the far side of Alexandria. In the middle of the room was a large sofa, plush with semi-clean clothes stacked up on one half while a sleepy Belgian Malinois lay on the other, still and complaisant. 

Daryl Dixon, on the other hand, sat at his makeshift desk by the window. In one hand, a sharp dagger, the other an arrow he had been cutting away at for the past hour. His skin was pink and freckled and his hair damp, freshly showered after a gruelling day outside of the walls that ended in blood and tears. 

Losing someone in the community was never easy. He almost felt he should have been thankful it wasn’t somebody he was particularly close to, but that shit hardly mattered since he and Rick had to go back and let the poor bastard’s wife know he wasn’t coming home. 

He couldn’t bring himself to think about it now that he was back within the safety of Alexandria, not with all he had waiting for him there. He didn’t think he could cope with where his mind would take him, so instead he took to working with his hands — carving and cutting until his mind emptied and he didn’t have to think at all.

Eventually the stairs creaked and Daryl glowered to himself, figuring it would be Carol checking in on him again. He loved her, she was his best friend, but sometimes she just did too much. When the inevitable knock on wood came, he looked up ready to grunt in acknowledgment. Instead, his features softened, his chest heaving with relief.

It was you.

The corners of your mouth quirked into a sweet smile as you stepped through the doorway. He noticed it didn’t reach your eyes and he reached out to you, taking your hand and gently pulling you closer to him where he could wrap a muscular arm around the back of your thighs and look up at you with those crystalline blues. 

You placed your arm around his shoulder, fingers immediately finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, your sole focus on the man before you, eyes so full of curiosity and care. 

“Now how is it you’re cleaner than I am?” 

Daryl smirked in response and squeezed you lightly. You were certainly grubbier than he was, but he didn’t care one bit considering grubby was his default state. The old shirt you were wearing was torn at your midriff and it took him a moment to realise it was one of his. He pulled at the tear carefully, thankful only to find a graze rather than something worse.

“Yer back early.” He finally acknowledged.

You hummed in response, fingers now tenderly raking through the archer’s hair to reveal more of the gruff face you liked so much. You took in his features, tracing every scar and drawing together every freckle. 

“Mich’ radioed through. Hilltop had one too many people to spare anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn’t question it. If Michonne wanted to grant him a little bit of peace after the day they’d had, who was he to say no? Besides, Hell itself would freeze over before he ever turned you away. 

“I like you like this.” You continued, “All soft and warm.”

“Yeah?”

A year or so ago he would have resented being called soft. It was a fighting word, something his idiot brother would use to provoke him into doing something reckless, but when it came from your lips it felt like he was being awarded a Purple Heart. 

Sure, you were talking about his shower fresh skin, but that didn't matter. You reminded him that he had been brave and let you in, that after years of being alone and afraid, he had earned the right to be soft. 

Pulling away from his grip, your hands came to your belt buckle. You unfastened it and slowly shimmied out of the dark blue jeans that were stained with speckles of old Walker blood. That old shirt of Daryl’s you’d been wearing, tucked in at the waist, fell free halfway down your thighs.

“Like a damn dress on you, girl.” 

You shot a playful scowl at him and sauntered towards the couch, moving the pile of clothes to another surface before collapsing onto the cushion with a grunt. Dog perked up and you scratched him behind the ears.

“Not like you to complain.” You sighed. 

Watching you like this, comfortable and free, Daryl felt something building in his chest. It wasn’t panic. Maybe it was fear? He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he wanted to wrap himself up in you like you were wrapped up in his shirt. Anything to keep you close so he never had to worry about you not coming home.

“Weren’t complainin’.”

It was your turn to reach out to him, coax him over from his attempts of escape. You may have been exhausted, but losing anyone from the community was a nasty reminder of how fragile this life really was. 

Daryl stood and mosied over. Dog was comfortable right where he was next to you, though Daryl wouldn’t try to get rid of him even if he wanted to. You shuffled up a bit, angling yourself against the inner corner before tugging on his forearm — a silent plea to give into you and just be. He spent so much of his time looking out for you, making sure you were okay that it also became a way of making himself feel better. You loved him for it, but you desperately wanted to take care of him too.

He finally sat. It was a start. You kept your fingers on his skin, your thumb caressing it gently and he turned his head to watch your hand at work. His eyes soon drifted to your legs. They were bruised but still strong and inviting. You pulled at him again and he finally met your gaze. 

“I’m right here.” You assured him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you could. That was what was tearing him apart.

Daryl eventually nodded and shuffled up, taking your legs and placing them over his lap so that you were practically sitting on him but not quite. He loved the weight of you, loved you dressed in nothing but one of his old band shirts so that he could flex his hand against the warmth of your thighs. You were his anchor, keeping him from spiralling just by being right there in your arms. 

With one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, you used your free hand to trace the far side of his jaw with your thumb. He leaned into your touch and you sweetly kissed his shoulder before pulling him in closer to you, the hand behind his head now weaving into his hair again.

“Think Dog is getting jealous.”

A soft snort escaped him then, “I’d be jealous too.”

“Don’t need to be. You got me.”

He adjusted his position, allowing himself to lean into you a little bit more. You continued to play with his hair, twirling it between your fingers. The tension in his body slowly began to melt away, evident from the long exhale that drew from his lips. 

“Still don’ know how the fuck tha’ happened.”

And that was the truth. To this day Daryl had no idea what you saw in him. You could tell him to his face -- in fact you had -- and he’d still question it. He’d grown up believing he was no good but even if that were the case then, again, who the fuck was he to deny you? 

“The world works in mysterious ways Daryl Dixon.” A smirk tugged at your lips, “That and I had to make the first move.”

“Shuddup.” He retorted quickly, “Woulda’ done it eventually.”

It was your turn to laugh. Looking back on your journey together, it was honestly miraculous you’d ended up where you were at all. He was oblivious when it came to women and you weren’t exactly someone that was easy to pin down. Your affection for him snuck up on you, but once it hit you it did so with full force and you weren’t going to risk not knowing.

“I almost wish I’d waited now.”

“‘M glad ya’ didn’t.“ He confessed, squeezing your thigh with his calloused hand, “‘M glad you’re here.”

You pressed a kiss to his temple then wiggled, adjusting your position so that you could angle yourself against him comfortably. You could use both of your hands to play with his hair now. He didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t like it, because he did. He liked all of the attention you gave him. 

“So, how would you have done it?”

“Dunno. Don’ matter now.” His brow quirked as he glanced at you, “I kissed ya first. Don’ that count for somethin’?”

Well, there was that. It was one of few times Daryl had truly caught you off guard. You were pissed off about something, wouldn’t stop going on and on at him even though it wasn’t his fault. 

“In my defence, you kissed me to shut me up.”

“Worked didn’ it?”

“Haven’t gotten rid of me since.” 

Delicate fingers had taken a few thin strands of his hair, tucking them one behind the other aimlessly to form a subtle braid as you both reminisced. You sometimes couldn’t believe how long his hair had gotten, but you quite liked it. You never took too much off when he let you cut it. 

“Wouldn’t ever.” He mumbled shyly, “Ain’t gon’ get luckier than this.”

“Not sure I’d call it luck. Been through too damn much for the world not to pay it forward.” You truly believed your words as they spilled from your lips, “We deserve a bit of good. You deserve it.”

Whether he agreed or not, he wasn’t sure how to respond. If it were true, he had already gotten that little bit of good by finding you. He would be perfectly happy if that was all the good he ever got in this new world of blood and rot. He didn’t need anything more. He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same. 

You were partially preoccupied, braiding his hair gently piece by piece and savouring the sweet moment between you both. His hand caressed your thigh, traced circles with his fingers while you leaned into each other’s touch. It set your skin aflame, poked coals in the pit in your stomach, but you pushed that feeling down until when or if he pulled you in.

Truthfully, you didn’t think much about the future anymore. You couldn’t afford to. It put you on edge, made you panic and do stupid things. It was easier to live in the moment and appreciate what you had, and waking up to Daryl everyday was more than you ever expected to have when you were first taken in at Alexandria. Hell, you felt lucky to make a few friends after being on your own for so long. 

You sighed happily as you combed out the loose braid with your fingers and began again, taking thicker pieces of clean dark hair. He smelled like your shampoo which tickled you a little, but you didn’t complain. It wasn’t like he was going to seek out his own. Piece by piece, the braid grew and you could feel him relax further, the circles he was drawing on your thigh growing slower. You bet that if you turned to look, his eyes had closed. 

“The hell you doin’ girl?” He finally mumbled. 

He always called you that. The way he said it made it feel like there was supposed to be a my in front of it. Sometimes if you were being especially irritating he’d slip a lil in there as if that was supposed to deter you, but it never did.

“Shhh. Stay still.” The response came with a soft chuckle. 

As you finished another braid, you admired your work with a grin. His eyes flit open as if he knew you were up to something, brows soon furrowing as he looked at you. It wasn’t long until they relaxed, that smile of yours turning him into putty in your hands. 

“Do I wanna know?”

“Do you wanna know I’ve been braiding your hair for the last… however long.” Your words were dry, bordering on teasing, “No, probably not.”

That infamous scowl of his tugged at his grizzly features, though there was no bark to his bite. You cupped his face, gently coaxing it towards you. 

“This suits you.”

He thought you suited him too. 

[ficrecsbybu]

WinterIron fic rec 2021: Part I

Note: this fic rec consists only of Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark fics. the only Stucky & Stony you might see is as past relationships but that’s it. it’s also complete works ONLY. also - no underage stuff 🔪.  if you have any requests for Winteriron fic recs (for e.g non-superpower au, only one shots, series, hardcore smut, post-tws, college au, not team cap friendly fics, bodyguard au etc.) you can send me requests ^^. anyway... enjoy 😉 

✨ The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchiha

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot. 

Rated M, Hades & Persephone AU, Canon Divergence, always female Tony Stark, not Team Cap friendly. word count: 41391

(note: listen... I know het pairings and/or gender bend is not popular and I never really read those in general BUT this is straight up one of the best fics I have ever read so I NEEDED to share this with y’all...✌️)

✨ Forms of Love by bear_bell

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Rated E, Post-CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Team Iron Man. word count: 33591

✨ Looking at You by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Bucky looks for so long that now all he wants to do is touch and hold and fix everything. But Tony can barely be in the same room as Bucky, cant even look him in the eye. So Bucky doesn't know what to do about Tony, but he is determined to do something. Because all he wants is to look at Tony, and see Tony looking back with a smile.

Rated E, Post-CW, PTSD, team heals, mental healing, forgiveness, angst with a happy ending. word count: 28,168

✨ I'll Be Your Bodyguard (If You'll Be My Security Blanket) by NarutoRox

When one of Loki's pranks gone wrong leaves the team with a young Winter Soldier in their care, they know they're going to have their hands full. Especially since this newer, tinier version of Bucky seems to have a bodyguard complex - and a particular attachment to Tony.

Rated T, kid fic, age regression/de-aging, de-aged Bucky, tiny bodyguard Bucky. word count: 4,993. 

(note: finally something CUTE. Im so sorry for being such a slut for angst and heavy stuff 😅)

✨ Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Rated T, AU - no superpowers, AU - soulmates, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, age difference. word count: 7,032.

✨ Shameless  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

rated M, flirting, dirty talk, sexual tension. word count: 2,560

✨ Winter Wooer by salytierra

Winter may not be the most pleasant guy to live or share your body with, but he isn't nearly as destructive as everybody expected him to be either. He likes to brood in the corners, watch British TV, and freak people out. And Tony. He really, really likes Tony Stark. There's just one problem – Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about the guy.

Rated M, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, team as family. word count: 8,726

✨ Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

rated M (but mild sexual content), parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes recovering, team as family, of love and hobbits 🧝🏻‍♂️. word count: 15,289

✨ Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix 

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

rated T, post-TWS, fluff, humour, getting together, idiots in love. word count: 4,744.

✨ Rise In Perfect Light (Be Not Fearful Of The Night) by RayShippouUchiha

At first, the new element singing in his chest, Tony doesn’t understand what he’s done.

Doesn’t understand the full consequences of his actions.

But, to be fair, there’s no way he really could have.

Not even a futurist like him could have ever seen this coming.

rated G, post-CW, past Stony, angst with a happy ending. word count: 3,589.

(note: this fic is SO BEAUTIFUL. lemme just asjkdjnsjkdm)

✨ and amidst the ruins, there was you by TheKitteh

With everything resolved - post the Berlin conflict, Siberia and the rogue Avengers' return - Tony relishes in the clarity of what the team is now. He can finally see the well-defined lines, he can rely on solid rules and the chain of command. He's settled into his life like never before.

That is, until one day, an unhinged sorcerer with no grasp on his magic shatters that new-found balance.

As a result, half of Tony's soul is now gone, but he's willing to do anything to get it back.

rated T, post-CW, canon divergence, au - Dystopia, Dimension Travel, magical accidents, slow burn, getting together. word count: 36,976

✨ and so we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself.

rated T, CACW canon divergence, getting together, reconciliation, POV alternating, Bucky Barnes recovering. word count: 14,449

✨ Spilt on the Ground like Water by tisfan

Tony has been black-bagged and illegally held at the Raft. Steve has no intentions of going to rescue him.

But the Winter Soldier isn't going to leave him behind.

rated E, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied/referenced torture, frottage, dub-con, mention of part non-con (HYDRA trash party), not Steve friendly, suicidal thoughts, touch-starved. word count: 10,853

✨ Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves) by phlintandsteel

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.

rated E, post-IW au, A/B/O verse, Omega Tony, Alpha Bucky, Soulmates, Peter & Harley playing matchmaker, still recovering Bucky Barnes, not Steve Rogers Friendly, angst with a happy ending. word count: 37,324.

✨ Change You Like A Remix by ficlicious 

No one ever said Avenging would be easy, but Bucky could have really used a memo about the weeks where the hits just didn’t stop coming. He’d probably still have signed his soul away to the gods of spandex and paperwork, but a heads up woulda been nice before he nodded and smiled and took up residence in the house sanity fled when the Avengers moved in.

---- Soulmates, misunderstandings, snark, genderswap and sleep-deprived Avengers abound. Tony's a woman. Must be Friday.

rated E, AU - soulmates, established relationship, temporary gender swap, jealous Bucky Barnes, misunderstanding, miscommunication. word count: 10,494.

✨ Getting to Know You by orbingarrow

It had been an adventure, navigating the sweetly apologetic Bucky Barnes, who haunted the tower most days, and the the Winter Soldier, who occasionally inhabited Barnes’s body. The Winter Soldier was not apologetic; he was scary. And he was currently chilling out, uninvited, in Tony's lab.

“Leave,” Tony said, because Tony was either a dead man or not, and there wasn’t much he could do about it before coffee.

“Or you could give me permission to be here,” the Winter Soldier suggested.

“I don’t let strangers poke around my stuff,” Tony grumbled, as he walked past the Soldier to take a seat at his workbench.

“Easily solved,” the Soldier deflected. “Get to know me.”

-This is what happens when Tony does.

rated G, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are different personalities, fluff, Clint Barton is a good bro. word count: 9,470

✨ Safe House by ali_aliska

For years, Tony had successfully kept his secret. Neither the world nor his team knew he was Iron Man and as far as he was concerned, everyone was better off that way. On his best days, Tony Stark was not someone people liked and trusted, so the last thing Tony wanted was to tarnish Iron Man’s good reputation by revealing the truth.

But then SHIELD falls, the Avengers face disarray, and a stray Hydra assassin forces Tony to go into hiding—and where better than the safe house he had just crafted for the Avengers and their own ex-assassin ready to come in from the cold?

Tony plans to hide away from everyone in his makeshift workshop until the coast is clear and he’s safe to go home. No one would care to spend any time with the reclusive, arrogant billionaire anyways, right? Iron Man is the one everyone wants around.

Bucky Barnes, on his own journey to reclaim his life and identity, seems to disagree with that sentiment.

rated T, post TWS, canon divergence, au - Secret Identity, mutual pining, team as family, slow burn, misunderstandings. word count: 89,533

✨ Versace on the floor by withered

The modern man’s armor is his clothing, and Bucky wants Tony out of his.

rated T,  post CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Separate Personalities, Barnes & Soldier & their hard-on for Tony, not team cap friendly. word count: 2,127 

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse and manipulation, slice of life(ish), manga spoilers!!

A/N: Ok so this is just what I daydream about, and since ima tv addict, I’m involving some “Avatar: The Last Airbender” related things, but a little different. This is more of an introduction to our character but I hope you enjoy!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Summary: It’s Y/N’s first day at UA.....as a “former” villain

“Y/N L/N. She’s a new transfer student. Treat her with your respect and do your best to take care of her.” The tired teacher spoke.

“.......Hey. Please treat me well.” The intimidating girl said as she bowed in respect.

Now if you were to see Y/N on the streets as a stranger, you wouldn’t even think she would have this threatening aura. The class agreed. She’s gorgeous. From a far, you would think she’s a sweetheart, But the girl had a cold, calm stare in her E/C eyes. There was actually no way to describe it. It was just chilling to the bone.

Not only that, but it was clear you were a little rebel. Mainly because of the way you decided to change up your uniform. Your sleeves were torn off to make your button up top some sort of tight fitted turtle neck with a tie that was complimenting your busty figure. Especially since it was tightly tucked into your skirt, pressing against your torso instead of loosely sitting in there like the other girls. You also added a small dark brown belt to cover where your skirt and top meet. Your waist gave the perfect show of how curvaceous you truly were. Your thighs were deliciously thick and your ass must’ve been a perfect peach, considering it caused your skirt to seem a little too small for you. Instead of the typical shoes and knee high socks, you opted for thigh high dark brown leather boots that folded at the top to match your belt. No heel though, of course. Gotta keep it casual. You finished off your rebellious look with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves. Do you look like trouble? Yup. Do you look hot as hell though? You bet.

“You may be seated next to Katsuki Bakugou.” Your new teacher spoke. Before anybody else could give an indication of who this “Bakugou” boy was, an electric blonde spoke up.

“Be careful with that one pretty lady, he’s our resident hot head.” The boy spoke while the entire class giggled.

“Shut it dunce face.” Your eyes shifted from one blonde to another. This time with a spiky head of ash blonde hair and piercing red eyes. As you walk towards your new seat, you made eye contact with the spiky blonde, you saw the look on his face. Just like everyone else, a face of fear and shock, except this time the person didn’t know who you were.

Bakugou could definitely say upon first glance, you were definitely something fierce. It threw him off just how powerful your presence was. He quickly turned away as you took your seat.

As class began, everyone had their eyes on Y/N. Some admiring her beauty, others wary of her aura, and some too nervous to mention their newfound fear of her. In the middle of Mr. Aizawa’s boring lecture, a scratch at the door could be heard.

‘A scratch?’ Everyone thought. But Y/N knew exactly who it was.

When Mr. Aizawa went to open the door, in came what appears to be a wolf-dog. Mr. Aizawa seemed to casually accept it and just expected you to explain. He was too tired to deal with this crazy shit.

“Oh..there you are Rumor. Took you long enough to find this place.” The creature, also somehow intimidating, simply just huffed at the girl and layed down next to her seat in between her and Bakugou.

“L/N, please explain to the class why Rumor is here. They clearly seem to be confused.” Y/N looked around the room to see her new classmates staring at her and her furry friend.

“*sigh* he’s my animal companion.” You simply stated. Apparently it didn’t satisfy your peers because a freckled, green haired boy spoke up.

“Animal companion? Like a service dog?” The timid boy asked. You secretly rolled your eyes at the fact you’ll have to answer this question again. That is until Bakugou spoke.

“You damn nerd, if he was a service dog, she woulda said that now, don’t ‘cha think?” ‘Dunce face and a damn nerd huh? Wonder what new nickname this hedgehog will give me.’ Your little quip made you give the smallest smile with a quiet laugh to yourself

What you didnt realize was that during your little moment, Bakugou was watching you the entire time. He fought the blush that was threatening to rise and successfully won. ‘The hell?’ Bakugou thought. Since when did he blush?

“He’s right. Rumor isn’t my service dog, he’s my animal companion. And no, not my pet. He’s more like a close friend. My best friend if anything. He’s also not a dog either, he’s a changeling.” You explained hoping someone else knew what a changeling was. Thankfully, the “damn nerd” did.

“Changeling? I thought they were just a myth.” He said. “What the heck is a changeling, Deku?” You turned and saw it was a girl with a round face and pink cheeks. ‘Deku? How rude’ you thought to yourself.

“Changelings were rumored to be magical like beasts who could take the form of any animal they chose. Those forms could be as real as eagles and bears or as mythical as dragons and unicorns. They could also change the size of their form too. Am I right, L/N?” Deku asked you.

“You’re completely right, Deku.” The green haired boy blushed at his nickname on your tongue. “Rumor can be any creature I command. His wolf-dog form is his casual form though. It’s the form he took at birth I guess.”

“You guess?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, I guess. I didn’t have Rumor since he was born. I found him while I was on a walk in the forest. We just clicked, and he followed me home. That’s when I discovered his powers and what he was, and seeing that changelings were only rumored to have existed, I thought it would’ve been a fitting name. We’ve been together ever since, and not only does he work as a friend, he’s a fighter too. He’s like a partner to me which is exactly why principle Nezu allowed him to attend UA with me. I guess you could say he’s part of my...uhm..quirk” You thoroughly explained. You couldn’t help it. You loved talking about Rumor. He was your best friend and definitely one of a kind.

Rumor looked up at you and barked. You turned to pet him on the head and gave him a little smile. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the resident hot head, which once again caused him to fight back a blush. ‘The fuck is going on with me today?’ The blonde thought to himself. Finally satisfied with the answers, the class picked up where they left off and continued to learn about quirks which didn’t seem all that useful to you since....you don’t have one.

——————————————————————————

Later

“Remember, we will all be meeting at gym gamma tomorrow morning, so don’t bother coming to the classroom. Just meet up there with any comfortable gym wear.” Mr. Aizawa said at the end of the day.

“Yes sir!” The class all said. “L/N stay behind, I need to speak to you and Rumor.” The tired teacher said with a yawn.

“Yes sir.” You calmly replied.

As the class gathered their things to leave, some came up to speak to you. First it was Deku and the round faced girl.

“Welcome to UA L/N. My name is Izuku Midoriya!” Deku said.

“Oh my apologies. I thought I heard that your name was Deku.” You said so nonchalantly with your sweet voice.

“Well it’s just a nickname that started up with Kacchan.” The boy was now blushing in slight embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head.

“Kacchan? I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” You said.

“Oh right! My bad, Kacchan is Bakugou. It’s a name I gave him during our childhood.” He stated.

“Seems a little mean.” You chuckled

“Yeah but he’s always been like that.” The boy smiled with a small laugh.

“I think I can tell. He must be really nice to Deku and Dunce face.”

You both shared a laugh at your little sarcastic poke at the explosive blonde that the girl was feeling a little left out.

“Anyways, I’m Ochako Uraraka! I was really hoping I could talk to you more but Deku over here can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.” the girl slightly teased.

“Meh. No worries. We’re gonna be stuck together for the next few years. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” You so kindly spoke as you gathered your stuff.

“Totally! We can-“ Uraraka was cut off by a very handsome two toned boy with a scar. He definitely reminded you of some you knew. You watched as he came up to speak to Midoriya.

“Hey, Midoriya. Did you want to...” you tuned out his conversation. You simply just stared at him in awe. No doubt about it. He was definitely Dabi’s brother. But he was a whole lot more handsome.

The boy caught onto your staring and introduced himself.

“Hello L/N, my name is Shoto Todoroki. You may know me from my father, Endeavor, but I assure you, I’m nothing like him. In fact it’s safe to say I hate him.” He stated ever so calmly. ‘Wow. So blunt. And I guess hating Endeavor runs in the family’

“Hey it’s fine. I get it, daddy issues.” You nervously laughed but this seemed to strike an interest in Todoroki as he seem to have wanted to continue bashing both of your fathers until he was interrupted by Bakugou.

“You’re in my way Icy-hot.” ‘Jeez, another nickname?’ You thought.

“Then move to another side.” Todoroki quickly came back with.

This caused you to now openly give a quiet laugh, you could already tell what kind of relationship those two have. During your small laugh, Bakugou once again caught himself staring, except this time, he was caught. And it was by you.

You both made eye contact once again. As he stared into your E/C colored eyes, and you stared into his rubied gems, you both grew a slight blush on your cheeks and the 3 standing next to you both took notice.

“Hey..” you sweetly said.

“..........hey.” He replied and quickly looked away embarrassed. That peaceful little moment made your heart stir. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. If felt calming, loving, happy...and weird and confusing. Thankfully, Dunce face came up to flip the switch.

“Wow Kacchaaannn,” the electric blonde said wiggling his brows. “Never seen you blush like that. You got a little crush on the new gir-“

“SHUT UP SPARK PLUG!” Bakugou exclaimed as he quickly made his way out of the classroom.

“Hey why you gotta be so mean all the time man!” Dunce face cried out.

“I SAID SHUT UP” Bakugou screamed from down the hall. ‘Well he certainly is interesting.....and cute’

“Ah jeez, whatever,” the blonde sighed before you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Well hey there pretty lady,” he started “I’m Denki Kaminari and you are one gorgeous girl. And you definitely got a rockin’ bod-“ he was cut off by our scary teacher.

“That’s enough Kaminari, I need to speak to L/N. Now all of you, out.” He commanded.

They all took their leave thinking about how cool and kind you were. Oh how wrong they were. The little act you put up sure was convincible. Hell, the only thing you genuinely meant was that Todoroki and Bakugou were cute and the blush that came up whenever Bakugou stared at you. You still couldn’t explain it but you brushed it off.

When all were gone, you mentally took notes of their names and possible quirks.

Izuku Midoriya. Alias: Damn Nerd and Deku. Quirk: unknown.

Ochako Uraraka. Alias: unknown. Quirk: unknown.

Shoto Todoroki. Alias: Icy-hot. Quirk: possibly related to cold and heat

Denki Kaminari. Alias: Dunce Face and Spark Plug. Quirk: possibly related to electricity

Katsuki Bakugou. Alias: Kacchan. Quirk: unknown

“L/N.” Your teacher snapped you out of your quick thought and got you focused.

“You seemed to be very comfortable with telling them about Rumor.” Mr. Aizawa said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well he is my best friend. I could go on and on about Rumor for hours if people didn’t stop me. And you can’t lie, he is pretty interesting. Especially his fighting style. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you....Eraser Head?” You said with a sinister smile.

You were well aware that Aizawa knew Rumor’s capabilities very well. You were also aware he knew much about yours too. I mean, you both have fought each other before. And one of you almost didn’t make it out alive. Hint hint, it wasn’t you.

“You are to address me as Aizawa Sensei or Mr. Aizawa, Titania.” He sternly said.

“Ouch, the villain name? I thought the past was the past. There’s a good inside me, dont you remember? You were the one who said it after all. You were even the one who recommended an S-Class villain like me should join UA.” You snidely replied.

*flashback*

As you fought against the skilled pro, you could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the second. You used your air bending to push him back, crushing him into the wall, and keep him far away. Before you could send Rumor in to finish the job, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Kurogiri? What are you doing here?” You stopped fighting and quickly turned to your superior in a fearful and shaky manner. Although you were much stronger than him and could easily take him down, you knew better. Your mind had already been so manipulated into thinking you were the weakest villain in the league, when it reality, you were strong enough to take down Shigaraki in a snap...but you didn’t need to know that.

Eraser Head, too tired and beaten to even pick himself up off the ground watched the interaction from the distance.

“You were told to collect intel, not fight a pro.” The black fog stated.

“Well yes, but he tried to stop me an-“ he silenced you with a smack to the face. Kurogiri was a respectful man...in ways...but he was just following orders on how to treat Y/N.

“If he tried to stop you, you run away.” He said, matter of factly.

“But he-“ once again, he cut you off but this time with a louder voice.

“But nothing! You were to gather intel and report back to base. Not fight. If you got into trouble, you are to run away, and use your bending and Rumor as assistance.” He stated.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” You said with your head bowed down in dishonor.

Aizawa could already tell from afar how controlled you were. In past fights, he’s noticed how you were so quick to succumb to any villain in the league, and you were always so willing to go back to them no matter how many times you could’ve ran away on your own. It was like they had something you needed, or more so it was them that you needed. For survival, perhaps?

“Did you even gather the information we needed?” Kurogiri asked.

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. With a disappointing glare he reached for you, when you flinched at just the slighted movement, Aizawa knew something was wrong. Yes you were a villain, but it was clear you were also a manipulated child. So he acted quick, and attacked Kurogiri, knocking him out, and grabbed you. Before you both took off, you threw one of your earrings at kurorgiri’s unconscious body, knowing he’ll know what to do once he sees it. As he ran with you, he took notice of the animal behind him that followed you. When he finally landed on a cliff hanging over the city, he placed you down to sit on the grass and looked at you before speaking.

“I can see it. All of it. They’re controlling you aren’t they?” The pro-hero spoke.

“Excuse me? Nobody is controlling anybody! I choose to follow orders!” You yelled as Rumor came up to you.

“What is that thing?” Aizawa asked.

“He’s my friend and you won’t harm him!” You said while grabbing onto Rumor.

The pro took note of that word you used. Friend. Villains don’t have friends, they don’t have anybody but goons and partners in crime. Literally. You were definitely different compared to these other villains.

“I have no intentions on harming you or your friend.” The pro spoke.

“So what do you want with me.”

“....Simple. I want you to go to school, live in the dorm rooms, eat good food, train more to become better as a person and fighter, and make more friends. I see a good in you Titania, you deserve a good life. Not one controlled by villains where you do their bidding for what? Survival?” Aizawa said as he crossed his arms while looking at you.

You were in shock. He was able to figure you out. Well, he figured out why you were with the league. Survival. But it doesn’t matter, you were so brainwashed that you were convinced anyone outside the league wanted to kill you...at least that’s what the LOV told you.

“I don’t want to go to school, I want to go back home to the league.” You said while looking down and holding onto your furry friend.

“Home? UA could give you a better home.”

You looked up in shocked at his words. He wanted you to attend school at UA? You know that place. That’s the one place where the league has been so invested in ever since All Might joined the staff there. Suddenly, an idea came into thought. You knew exactly how you were gonna get into the league’s good graces and out of the cold shadow.

“UA?....That’s where you want me to go? How the hell am I supposed to get in there? I’m a known villain genius.” You sarcastically said.

“A villain hidden behind a full face mask. People don’t know your true identity, and did you ever think that maybe the league wants it that way?” He said

“Are you saying you know who I truly am?” You questioned him.

“No, but that doesn’t matter right now. If you want to go to UA, I can help you. I’m a teacher there and I can put in a good word for you. Sure it will take a lot of convincing but I’m willing to do it. Using UA as a reformatory program for you could be benefitting you in more ways than one. So if going to UA is what you really want, I’m more than happy to help you Titania.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your heart was so excited. You were finally going to get away from this horrible life of crime and killing. Away from the abuse and blood. Away from the league. But your brain was telling you to deny it all. You were safer with the league, everyone is out to get you, and you will die without the villains help. But a bark broke you out of thought.

You turned to your side to see what seems to be a smile on Rumor’s face. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out while giving you puppy dog eyes. It appears he knew what was going on and he seemed excited. For your best friend, the world. So you gave in...happily.

“Y/N.” You said while getting up off the ground.

“Huh?” The pro spoke.

“My name is Y/N L/N, and I’d be happy to join UA.” You said with a smile and tears of joy filling you eyes. Rumor happily barked at the pro as well.

“Well alright then,” the pro said sticking out his hand for you to shake, “Y/N L/N, welcome to UA.”

As you shook his hand your smile held a thousand words. Happiness, excitement, villainy, and sin. Sure you were going to benefit yourself, but you were also going to benefit the league.

*Present Time*

“I was hoping I’d get more respect from you considering I was the one who got you into UA,” Aizawa tiredly said while turning his head towards the ceiling and crossing his arms. “But I guess that mischief and attitude just comes with the deal.”

“Correct.” You simply said.

“So are you willing to tell them what your “quirk” is? You seemed so open about Rumor, I thought your powers would be the same.” Aizawa pressed on.

“Not sure yet. I only just met the students. They seem nice.” You said while looking at your now very interesting shoes.

“They’re a crazy bunch, but they’re incredible friends. They could be great friends to you too Y/N.” You looked back up at him with hope, but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place.

The teacher took noticed of this and continued. “Either way, they’ll have to see what you got tomorrow. In gym gamma we’ll be doing some sparring including our quirks, so you’ll have to show them all that you can do.” He said.

He saw how that made you nervous. Not because you were scared to speak about or show your abilities, but because you knew you would be hit with thousands of questions. Oh how annoyed you must be.

“Understood.” You said to him as if you were a soldier. He won’t get used to that. He’ll have to make sure you know it’s ok to speak to people as..well people, and not like everyone is your superior.

“Good,” he began to walk to his yellow sleeping bag to pick it up, “now head to the front of the school. I left an escort for you to help guide you to your dorm room. That person will also be a guide in all things UA for you so be nice. You’ll be stuck with them for awhile. That is all, you can go now.”

As you and Rumor made your way to the front, you had so many questions going on in your mind. Should you make new friends or keep them at a distance? Should you completely drop the league and join UA? Should you blow your cover and expose why your truly there? What to do, what to do.

When you made it to the front, you finally saw your escort, and you couldn’t help but give a little smirk.

“Hey..”

A/N: If y’all wanna see the clothes that inspired Y/N’s uniform, check this out!!!

A/N: Damn guys, I know I’ve only just started writing but this is kinda the story I imagine in my mind at night. So I thought it would be fun to give it to reality. So here’s my first FanFic😅 hopefully it doesn’t turn out too terrible, but I promise to work on my skills and improve. Also, if you need a reference to what Y/N’s uniform looks like, search up “Akame from Akame Ga Kill.” That’s the look that heavily inspired Y/N’s new uniform. And if you’re confused on what the boots look like, search up “Lucy Heartfilia thigh high boots,” bc those are the EXACT boots I imagine on Y/N except in a darker brunette color to match the belt. Once again, NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed pt. 1! And if this goes well, tell me if you’d like a pt. 2! I love to hear feedback! Thx <3

[symphonicmetal101]

MC Struggles With Obsessive/Compulsive Behaviour

Ok, just to be clear.

I haven't been diagnosed with anything, which is why I refrain from writing "OCD" in the title. I've always known I'm a perfectionist- please be aware that there are some major differences between OCD and perfectionism, (despite what Youtube videos may say)- however I have had instances in which I have taken it too far and paid the price physically, mentally, and emotionally. Please be aware that these are all very real things that not only myself, but other people go through. I haven't had one of them in a long time, but my current circumstances make me feel like I might soon, so bear with me while I write another self-indulgent thing.

Or don't.🤷‍♀️

TW: compulsive/obsessive behaviour, a little self-deprecation as seasoning👌

Lucifer

At first, he's very happy to see that you are very organized and neat

One less thing for him to worry about

However, one day he walked past your room and saw you organizing your desk

He respected that, and continued on

The next day he passed by around the same time and saw you organizing your desk again

Odd, but perhaps one of his brothers had interfered and interrupted you, meaning you hadn't finished yesterday

It had been five days now, surely you weren't still cleaning your desk??

"MC, if my brothers bother you, you should close the door. Perhaps then you would be able to finish cleaning your desk properly. Unless you would like some direction in time management instead?"

Lucifer glanced behind you. To his surprise, your desk looked immaculate. He then saw your blushing face.

"Ah... well that's very kind of you Lucifer, however I'm afraid it's not an issue of time management or your brothers. Well, sometimes Mammon comes in and moves the pens around, so then I have to start over..."

"Start over?"

"Y-yeah." You explain your process to him, how you completely clear off your desk, to the type of cleaner you use, how many sprays, to how you like to stack your paper, to how you always have to have three paperclips to your right, and how the black pen is always in between the blue and the red.

"And when Mammon moves the pens...you start over?"

"Yeah. I do."

Lucifer has sympathy for you, put also struggles because it seems like a waste of time if he were to do it.

But he doesn't do it, and it seems to make you calm, so instead he buys you proper gloves for cleaning and a few more bottles of your cleaner

Mammon

"Come on MC, I wanna show ya something in my room."

Oh no

Nononono

You could feel yourself panicking a bit. Mammon's room was messy

Not messier than Levi's but still

But he looked really excited, so you reluctantly followed him

"TA-DA!!!"

Oh wow. His room was spotless!

"I-uh, noticed ya only seem to be comfortable in yours or Lucifer's room. It-it took a while for me to figure out why, but...whaddya think? Will it work for ya?"

He smiled at you and you could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

"It looks great! You even picked up the water bottles that were by your bed!!"

He instantly became more confident, his smile growing wider and his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Of course it looks great! Why wouldn't it?"

You gave him a withering stare

"Uh..yeah. Y'know, if ya had just told me ya didn't like it being so messy I woulda tidied up sooner. J-just make sure ya let me know if it gets too messy again. I want ya to be comfortable in more places than just your room, so my room seemed like a good idea."

His face was incredibly flushed

"Thank you Mammon. It really means a lot.

Levi

You had only been in Levi's room twice

But dear god

You really really really wanted to tidy things up for him

But you also knew what it was like to be very particular and have things "just-so"

Aksjsjshdgjak

"Hey Levi, can I make you deal?"

He took off one of his headphones to listen

"What's up?"

"This might be kinda weird. Can I take pictures of your stuff so I can reorganize and clean your room? That way if you don't like it, I'll put everything back?"

You could see confusion and slight panic that crossed his features.

"I'm sorry, I know it's weird, you don't have to say yes I-"

"Um, what exactly would you be doing?"

"Uhhh.."

He stopped his game to sit and talk with you for a bit.

"O-ok. Just that shelf is off-limits. And I'll stay in here to let you know if something isn't ok with me."

He watched in awe as you carefully rearranged his figurines by rarity as well as colour.

You crawled under his desk with velcro ties and made all the cords under there much more organized

You rearranged the pillows on his couch so that they were symmetrical on both sides, fluffing them and squishing them as you saw fit.

His manga was pretty organized, so you just straightened out the pile.

You organized his games in alphabetical order

The whole time you had been dusting stuff off as well

"There. That's better....what do you think Levi?"

"WOOOAAHH!!! I love it!! It looks really good MC!"

"Thanks for letting me do that."

"No problem...but w-why did you want to do it?"

You shrugged. "It calms me down? No, that's not quite it....I don't really now. As it is, I need to cut myself off otherwise I'll clean until I can't stand. Mind if I join you for a bit?"

He nods at you and hands you a control. As the game boots up he says, "Y-you're welcome to do that again if you need to...but that shelf is still off-limits."

You nod, grateful for his understanding.

Satan

He said he had a surprise date for you

So you followed him

To the Cat Cafe

Now, you love cats

And you love food

But the two of them together don't sit well with you

But Satan looked so eager and happy that you didn't hesitate much to go inside.

Everything was going really well until Satan asked if you wanted something to eat or drink.

You politely declined his offer, but he insisted on getting you something

You reluctantly chose a hot drink.

But as you watched the worker prepare your drink, you were horrified to see them carry a cat out from behind the counter, and then without washing their hands, snap the lid on your cup.

"Satan..I need to step outside for a bit."

He watched you in mild concern as you walked out the door and he waited for your and his order to be complete

You were pacing outside, trying to calm down.

Why did that upset me? I haven't even touched it yet. Besides, normal people don't usually care about stuff like that. And I can clean it??? Or grab another lid?? Fuck! Why am I like this?

Your train of thought was broken as Satan tapped on your shoulder, concern and curiosity apparent in his eyes.

"Are you alright? I noticed the worker didn't wash their hands after handling the cat, so I grabbed a couple lids on my way out. I was going to put it on for you, but I believe it would be best for all parties if you did it on your own."

You almost started crying as he handed you a paper towel with two lids in it.

"Why are there two?"

"Although it never particularly bothered me, I thought you may have wanted some solidarity. I can understand where you're coming from." He smiled sympathetically at you.

From that day forward, he paid extra attention to things while you were around to make sure you wohld feel comfortable. You two also managed to tackle the daunting task of properly organizing Satan's books so that you could spend more time in his otherwise clean room.

Asmo

"Darling, you look wonderful in that outfit!! And it's so hot outside, it's perfect!! I was just about to head out, do you want to join me?"

"That depends. Where are you going?"

"Oh, I'm just gonna do a little shopping. There was a cute top on sale at the mall yesterday, I just want to see if it's still there."

You told him you'd be right back.

When you got to your room you threw on a sweater, and then made sure you had your wallet and your phone.

You walked out of your bedroom, checking again, wallet, phone

As you approached Asmo, you checked again. Wallet, phone

"Are you ready to go?" You nodded and followed him out the door.

He made idle gossip with you until he noticed you were looking a little pale

"Oh my goodness, love are you alright? You should take this sweater off, you'll get much too hot!"

"I can't!" You panicked a bit, and he was caught off guard by your reaction.

"I- I'm sorry. But I use the sleeves to open doors and hold bags and stuff. I don't like touching that stuff. Even groceries are hard for me to touch, so I wash the groceries before I put them away when I get home. I enjoy shopping with you though, because you always know what kind of stuff I like just by looking at it, or feeling it for me. It's the same thing I explained before, where it's difficult for me to model the clothes for you until after they've been washed."

"Aww honey, I'm sorry. Next time I'll see if Mammon or Beel can come and help with your bags, m'kay? But you cannot stay in this sweater in weather like this. What about gloves? Would you be ok wearing gloves? I know a place where there's some really cute ones!! And I'll handle the doors for now, ok?"

You took off your sweater and tied it around your waist.

"Huh. I actually do feel a little better....thanks Asmo."

You two laughed lightly as he held open the door for the next shop.

Beel

You had waited for Beel to get out of one of his extracurriculars to walk home with him

You two were planning to eat together

However when you walked into the kitchen, you were greeted with a sink overflowing with dishes, and a sleeping Belphie on the island.

"Oh, uh, before I eat Beel, I'm going to clean that up. You go ahead though."

Belphie piped up, "Just throw what you can in the dishwasher....I'll do the rest later."

Beel looked concerned. "We were late getting home. Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Oh...uh" you contemplated lying when your stomach gave you away.

"Just eat. I'll take care of the dishes. It's my turn anyways. I'll get to it soon."

"It's not a big deal Belphie, I'll just do them."

"But you're hungry, aren't you? Just eat first? Or did I do something? Is it something I can fix? I can go if it makes you more comfortable-" Beel looked disappointed. Of course it wasn't his fault.

You shook your head. "It's not you. It's me. I just- I don't know- ugh." You felt close to tears.

How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself?

Beel pulled you into a hug. "Hey, it's ok. You don't have to tell us what's going on, but if you do it'll make it easier for us to help you."

He let go of you enough for you to step back and wipe tears from your eyes.

"I-I don't know what it is! But whenever I know there's something to be done, especially if I can see it, I have to do it before I do anything for myself. That includes eating, getting a glass of water, even going to the bathroom! And if I find another thing to do half way through he first thing, I'll just continue to postpone the thing I need to do for myself until I'm done or I forget about it..."

Silence settled across the kitchen.

"We'll help you do the dishes so it gets done faster, then you have to eat, ok?"

You smile and nod graciously as the twins helped you feel more comfortable

Belphie

"Come cuddle with meeee."

"Belphie, I need to study, please."

Belphie pouted. He was going to cuddle with you one way or another, even if he had to annoy you into it

Only what he didn't realize what he saw as "mildly annoying" was actually triggering for you

So he started messing with the postion of things on your desk.

"Stop it Belphie, I need to study."

"Yeah? Don't let me stop you, I'm just playing with your pen jar."

"But I asked you. To. Stop."

He huffed and put the pen jar down

But then he started to mess with your three pencils you had laid out, smallest to tallest.

"Why do you need three pencils?"

"Because. Now leave them alone."

He grinned.

"Because is hardly an answer and you know it. What would happen if I just took this one?"

"BELPHIE NO!" Your voice sounded between laughter and tears, butbhe figured it was just your way of begging.

"Belphie, please? I need that!"

He just grinned as he shifted into his demon form and passed the pencil to his tail and lazily flicked it back and forth.

Until he saw your face.

"Whatever. Do what you want, I'm done dealing with you." You walked out of your room, angry tears filling your eyes.

"W-wait! Shit! No, come back! I didn't-ugh." He groaned as he picked himself up to go after you, finding you on the outside steps of HOL.

"Hey, why're you crying? It was just a pencil. I put it back."

You pulled your head out of your hands.

"Yeah, but did you put it back right?"

Belphie looked at you perplexed...right? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Look, I'm sorry for using that tone with you. It's really hard for me to focus unless I have things a certain way. It may seem ridiculous to you, but that's just how I am. I don't know what causes it, I just know that it's a part of me. I'm working on it, but if I say stop, I need you to stop. Please."

"....okay. I'm sorry."

Masterlist

[bluebeetle]

Continued from this I just got tired of doing reblogs

And back to Detective Comics 526. 500th appearance of Batman! …in Detective Comics only, but hey. Any excuse to celebrate, right?  That does mean I suspect there’ll be a lack of Jason yet again.

Is that Talia? She looks so good in pink

Love Riddler and Catman just chilling on the floor. Very “on a field trip waiting for the bus” vibes.

Awwww I like her crossbow. But yeah I love pre-morrison Talia.

Mails this panel to Morrison. Also this has become a Talia love post, no more Jason, sorry! 

Practicing for when he adopts Jason and Dick I see….

So yeah, Joker calls all the villains together to stop Croc from killing the Batman (so they can do it), Talia and Catwoman go against it because the Joker still invited them, because he doesn’t get any Bitches and assumes that Batman is the same way. I am still wondering why there’s so little Jason in this but for now I am quenched by seeing Talia.

Babs and Dick meet up to talk, Babs reveals she knows their identities, and Bruce and his girls go to find the villains hideout; There’s some nice moments of everyone squabbling, it’s also fun to see villains fight with each other in my opinion, especially over stupid shit.

After a short fight, we cut back to Jason, who FINALLY gets a scene where he actually does something.

That something is find the batcave.

Seriously, guys. Locks? Have you heard of them? At least Jason being nosy is pretty consistent.

Bruce  keeping his costumes on a normal hanger instead of those fancy cases is EXTREMELY funny to me. I know times change but it's just. On there like a normal sweater. 

If you don’t want her then move outta the way, batboy, cuz Im gonna get me some batpussy--

And then years later, Damian would behead this poor guy…..

We make fun of condiment man, kite man, calendar man… but what about signalman?????

Gordons being pretty harsh but… he is kinda right. Also, I’ve seen what a croc can do to a person, those bones should be picked clean and scattered because of how they eat.

(...I studied death and decomp in University)

That is not how you use a gun, Dick! But yeah he’s pretty torn up over their death.

Jason continues to be nosy and finds some of Dick’s old costumes; I do wonder if they were going to go with this design and people didn’t like it, or if he was always supposed to receive the classic one later.

Jason reverse kidnaps himself, while Bruce does something to figure out a map they were given without street names, a problem you definitely would not need to go all the way home for nowadays.

This guy is cool, they should use him more. Gentleman Ghost is a great name. Anyways, Talia, Selina, and Bruce get captured, so it’s up to Jason as Robin to save them! Pretty standard fare, and more in-fighting from the villains, with the Joker playing both sides as he often does.

Yeah, get it right Croc! That’s Ducard and his daughter’s name!!

They sure call the joker harlequin a lot; obvs never do nowadays because of Harley. Interesting.

Poor Jay ): 

*is hold*  

Also they started giving Jason his lil curly bangs. No more bowl cut for him, he’s a real teenager now! Also either Jason is a really tall 12 year old, or Dick is short as hell.

Again, Talia looks so good in pink. Also she has an actual different skin tone from Selina and Bruce, something they struggle with these days.

It;s very unlikely they woulda let Dick adopt Jason, but I do sometimes wonder what things woulda been like had they…

Huh, so Jason did (potentially, he could be joking) take Dick’s old room, like in RHATO… which is silly, because it’s a mansion, he can have a different room.

And that’s it! For an opening arc about Jason becoming Robin… well, it’s really only half that; there’s a bigger focus on Croc, honestly, and Jason’s parents than Jason himself, so we end up not learning much about him. I definitely think Tim’s intro and first outing as Robin is much stronger, or even Jason’s later intro. But overall it wasn’t a bad read, just a little unfocused at times.

SO, A small collection of facts from this arc and two other issues:

Batman 357 

-Waldo the clown - knows Dick from Haley’s circus, good with kids.

-Dick makes mention of Cleveland Brand, twin brother of Deadman Boston Brand

-before meeting Jason, bruce took down a spy ring run by ‘The Squid’ and a drug ring run by mobster Tony Falco

Detective Comics 524 

-Trina and Joseph are the original names of Catherine and Willis, Jason’s parents. Could reuse for grandparent names or middle names. 

-Leslie Thompson didn’t exist yet, so they mention Doctor Dundee, an old friend of Thomas Wayne, who helps with Bruce’s injuries

-Bruce was seeing Vicki Vale at the time

-The Gotham River Aquarium is established--it was built in the 1930s and used to be rather popular, but these days is used more for gimmicky villains to hide out in. 

-Killer Croc is much more intelligent than he’s usually portrayed, being much less monstrous and even shown using a sniper rifle and using it well. He also looks like Mr. X from the Resident Evil 2 remake. 

Batman 358 

-Trina calls Bruce ‘dick’s friend’  and dick says she reminds him of his mom 

-Trina said she looked up to Dick’s parents ‘as a girl’ and how their deaths affected her, establishing it's definitely been a few years since they died (though likely they died when she was an adult)

-Dick and Bruce are beginning to drift apart, according to dick; Dick is resentful that Bruce has trust issues from Selina and Vicki betraying him, while Bruce struggles to understand why Dick allows himself to get close to people.

-An area of Gotham known as “The Point” is said to be their version of the South Bronx (in the 80s anyways)--troubled and poor. 

-Hell’s Point is a location in Gotham, in the far north by “the point”. It gets its name from the currents created by two rivers that converge into the sea to the south.  At the time, no one lived there but Croc

Detective Comics 525

-bruce is struggling with his feelings over selina, and vicki at this time

-Jason is originally 12 when he becomes robin

-the sloan circus is said to be set up on the palisade cliffs by the hudson river, putting gotham likely in New Jersey (though NY has some of the cliffs too)

-Upon meeting Robin, Jason asks what wonder girl is like and Dick says Jason has ‘good taste’ LMAO

Batman 359

-Gotham city zoo exists and also is a great place for u and your mob pals to hang out! Is there no security in gotham?

-dick says “lately he’s been like a stranger” when bruce takes his anger out on dick, something bruce regrets; bruce also expresses frustration that normal citizens seem to expect them to deal with everything and wishes more would stand up to villains

-mayor is mayor hill at the time

-Dick calls Jason ‘jase’

Detective comics 526:

-talia says bruce is the one man she won’t go against

-Babs knows who Batman and Robin are by this point--she just didnt let them know she knew

-jason finds the batcave because he’s nosy

-jason describes himself as a ‘nervy kid, but not stupid’

-more gotham lore: they used to have 7 breweries with their own local brands, but most went out of business by the 80s

-addams brewery mentioned, est 1892

-before harley, people called the joker ‘harlequin’ often

-initially, Dick wants to adopt Jason, as he’s about 18 and feels he owes it to the kid 

Young justice 44

-jason is 18 in this

-jason dates anita fite

-jason wears a cross that he made himself, and made one for anita

Detective Comics 790

-jason turns 18 after cassandra turns 18, in 2004 (when published)

[retrievablememories]

show me love | jaehyun

title: show me love pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff request: “I have a fic idea for Valentine's Day 💀 Jaehyun's gf is busy trying to prepare a really sweet bday gift while Jaehyun is busy trying to prepare a really nice Valentine's Day gift for his gf?” word count: 2.2k warnings: alcohol use a/n: writing pure fluff is not as easy as you’d think, but maybe that’s only an issue when you’re emotionally constipated like me...💀 anyway, here’s to the birthday boy. 🌹

You want to be sure Jaehyun’s birthday gift is perfect this year, which is why you spent so much time saving up for it. To you, it often felt a little hard to measure up to all the lavish gifts he gets every year for his birthday from fans, friends, and family members—especially since it’s on Valentine’s Day—but he always claimed that you could get him anything and he’d love it.

You and Jaehyun haven’t met up very frequently this week, partly because you’d both been busy preparing your gifts for each other; you for his birthday, and him for Valentine’s Day. You weren’t too upset about that, though. Being able to see him when the day finally came around would make it even more special after the time spent away from each other.

It’d been a lot harder than you’d anticipated to keep your gift secret, but only because you’re so excited for him to finally know what you’d gotten for him. You’re eager to see his reaction to it and hear what he might say about it. You’re also wondering what he might be planning for you, but you’ve done your very best not to pester him about it too much—even though you really want to.

The day of his birthday, you’re so jittery that you even get up earlier than usual so you can get dressed and make sure your look for the day is perfect. You end up calling Jaehyun while you put your makeup on, not wanting to wait any longer to talk to him. It’s not too early in the day when you call, because you know he won’t like getting up at that hour, but maybe early enough to cause a small complaint.

“Hi Y/N,” he answers after a few seconds, voice a bit deeper than usual—probably because he just got up. You grin at the sound of his voice.

“Good morning! Happy birthday, baby! Did I wake you? I’m sorry, haha.”

“Y/N.” Jaehyun repeats your name and smiles on the other end. You can’t see this, but you can hear his laugh, which is full of happiness at your greeting. “Thank you, sweet girl. It’s fine, I don’t really care, I was gonna get up soon anyway.” You hear the sheets rustling in the background and figure that’s him getting up now. “And of course, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“The day for lovers, how could I ever forget.” You smirk to yourself, sifting through your makeup bag for a certain highlighter. “By the way, you’re gonna come over today, right? I have something for you,” you tell him in a singsong-y mischievous tone.

“Oh?” Jaehyun perks up at that. “You want me to come over now? Because...I have something for you too, for Valentine’s Day, but it’s here at my place.”

“Ah, really?” You laugh. “Come to my place first, it’s your birthday and you should get your present first.”

“But since it’s my birthday, shouldn’t you come here? Do it for me~”

You almost roll over with laughter. “Aw, Jaehyun! I can’t believe you’re using that cute tone with me, I know you hate aegyo.”

He sighs, and you know he’s probably blushing from embarrassment. “Hmm, okay, okay. Never gonna do that one again. Should we flip a coin on it, then? If I win, you have to come over with whatever your gift is.”

You chuckle. “Flip a coin? You serious?”

“Dead serious. Get on FaceTime.”

“Now?” You snort and look at yourself in the mirror, makeup only half-done.

“You don’t want to? What are you hiding?” Now his voice takes on a sneaky note.

“I’m not hiding anything, but if that’s what you want, then prepare yourself...”

You both hang up and Jaehyun calls you on FaceTime a few seconds later. You smile when you see his face on the other end, still bare from just waking up. One corner of his mouth tugs up in a smirk when he sees you, then he bursts into a full grin, giggling at your half-made-up face. 

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Yes, yes, laugh it up! My own boyfriend clowning me on Valentine’s Day, how sweet of you.” You pout for good measure.

“You laugh at me nearly everyday,” he points out, and you must admit that he’s right. “Anyway, you always look pretty to me.” Then he pulls a hand through his hair in a way that he knows can always make you swoon, and you sigh in defeat.

“...Okay, you’re forgiven.”

You see him rummage around for a moment before the phone straightens again; now he holds a coin between his fingers. “So. What side do you want?”

“I guess heads.”

Jaehyun snickers momentarily before affecting a nonchalant expression again. “Yeah, I’ll take tails then.”

“Stop being dirty-minded,” you complain, rolling your eyes.

“I’m not, Y/N,” he insists, though his tone suggests otherwise. He flips the coin into the air and points the phone camera to where it landed on the ground—heads.

“I won! Now you have to come over,” you cheer.

“Fine, fine.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I’ll be over soon. Wait for me.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere else, now would I?”

Jaehyun arrives at your place a little while later, and he’s a bit starstruck when you open the door. Now with your makeup finished, you’re wearing a red dress with heels to match and your hair is styled prettily, falling over your shoulders. You smile happily at him, pulling at his shoulders to get him to come inside.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you say, closing the door after him and hugging him. He squeezes you back tightly, leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder and breathing in the scent of your hair.

“Y/N. How do you manage to get prettier everyday?”

“Because you love me so much.” You give him a kiss and tug his hand to guide him into the living room. You lead him to sit down on your couch, though you don’t sit next to him just yet. “Okay, before I give you your gift, you gotta close your eyes first.”

“Close my eyes? What is it?” Jaehyun keeps hold of your hand as he asks this, grinning up at you.

“You won’t know until you do what I say, silly!” He relents, although a bit reluctantly, and lets go of your hand so he can close his eyes. You go to get his gift from your bedroom and come back into the living room with it, holding it out in front of him. “Open your eyes now.”

When he does, he sees you holding a small wrapped box. “Why’d I have to close my eyes? I still can’t tell what it is.” He chuckles as he takes it from you. “The suspense is gonna kill me,” he jokes as he begins unwrapping it.

When Jaehyun finally gets the wrapping off and gets the box open, his face softens as he sees what’s inside and takes it in his hand. You clasp your own hands together, your skin warming at his smile. “It might not be what you’re used to in terms of like, luxury, you know...but it looked nice and I thought it’d look good on you.”

“Y/N…you must’ve spent a lot on this,” Jaehyun murmurs, examining the shiny new face of the watch in his hand. He holds it as if it were a rare jewel, turning it on all its sides to examine it. It’s mostly black leather and silver, but it was still more than usual for your budget, costing you a few hundred dollars.

“I did save up for some months...and still had to use a payment plan for it. Good thing we never broke up in that timespan or I woulda been shit outta luck.” Jaehyun snorts and shakes his head at your statement, knowing you’d say something like that to lighten the mood.

“Thank you baby,” he says, sliding his new watch onto his wrist. “You know this means the world to me.” He goes over to the window to see it better in the natural lighting, holding it up to the light to see it sparkle. You go over to him and peek over his shoulder, grinning softly. “I’ll have to pay you back.” You raise your eyebrows.

“What? It’s your birthday present, why would you—” 

“You’ll see later,” he says mysteriously, and you give him a curious look. “Meanwhile, we should go somewhere. The day’s still early, so let’s enjoy it.”

“You’re right,” you say, glancing at the new watch once more and then kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s go, then.”

It’s evening by the time you get back to Jaehyun’s place, having already eaten at an upscale restaurant that he’d reserved. You’d had no idea about it, and you were glad you’d taken the initiative to dress up today. Both of you spent the earlier part of the day going out to brunch and then exploring the city for a few hours, which even included taking one of those romantic boat rides that the nearby lake always offers on Valentine’s Day. You thought it would be kind of cheesy at first, but it turned out way more fun than you could imagine.

When you step inside his place, you’re surprised to see everything is decorated pretty lavishly; the overhead lights are dimmed, leaving a bunch of small tea lights as the main illumination. There are rose petals spread everywhere, too, and the sitting room is set up with pillows and blankets and a nice spread of chocolates and wine on the coffee table.

You gasp, studying the surroundings. “How did you arrange all this? We were together all day.” 

“Had some help from the guys; they came while we were gone. Hope they didn’t take anything, though...” Jaehyun shrugs as if this whole setup is no big deal, but his dimples poke out from the gleeful smile on his lips. He picks up an unlit candle from the coffee table, and you notice there are a few more spread around. “Now that we’re here, we can light these. Safety first, you know.”

“Of course,” you snicker, taking your jacket and shoes off so you can sit down on one of the pillows. You take up the bottle of wine and inspect the label while Jaehyun finds a lighter for the candles. “Considering that we already drank at the restaurant...don’t be surprised if I’m off my ass by the end of the night.”

“We don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” he suggests, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh no, I want to!” Jaehyun laughs at your enthusiasm as you open the wine and pour a glass for each of you. Once he’s done lighting the candles, he goes into his room. You lean back on the cushion and take your glass in your hand, waiting for him to come back.

Jaehyun returns soon with his blazer discarded and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. “I see you’ve gotten relaxed, too.” You smirk, crossing your legs. “You look so handsome with your new watch. I’m glad I got it for you.”

“Then I think you’ll like this even more.”

“Hmm?” You turn to Jaehyun as he sits on one of the pillows beside you. Your eyes widen when he pulls out a velvet case you didn’t notice before. It’s not a ring case, though, which really would’ve caused you to fall out; it’s the kind you use for bracelets or necklaces. He places it in your hands, and you gingerly take it from him like it might vanish if handled too roughly. “Oh...what is…?”

“You have to open it.” He grins, mimicking your earlier teasing of him with his own gift. You set down your wine glass and open the velvet rectangle to find a delicate necklace lying inside. At the end of it is a small circle with tiny diamonds embedded in it.

“Oh wow...it’s perfect,” you whisper, taking it out of the box and looking it over with enamored eyes. “Is this what you meant by ‘paying me back’? Because, Jesus, this is Cartier. I think you’ve done more than enough.” You smile wistfully and shake your head.

“Let me put it on you,” he says, and you give him the necklace so he can do so. You turn away from him, and you shiver a little at the feeling of his breaths on the back of your neck and his fingertips brushing your skin. You face him again when he’s done fastening it and throw your arms around his neck, hugging him closer to you and smiling against his dimpled cheek.

“I love you, Jaehyun. Thank you so much.”

Jaehyun’s lips curve up at your words, and he tucks his face against you, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your jaw. “I love you, Y/N.”