After he got the phone call, Dean couldn’t have driven back to the Kelly’s house fast enough.
Some part of him was sure that it was just some cruel, cosmic joke, that Cas couldn’t possibly actually be there, alive and waiting for him.
They’d watched him die, watched the grace flash out of his eyes, seen the wings emblazoned on the ground. Hell, they’d buried him.
Sure, they’d lost Cas before, but this seemed so final. Dean had spent three days in depression, drinking his sorrows, thinking about how he’d never again get the chance to hear Castiel’s voice, wake up to those blue eyes looking down on him.
Thinking how he’d died without ever really knowing how Dean felt about him.
But then, the phone rang, and Dean, predictably, ignored it.
It rang three times before Dean bothered to pick up, grunting a tired, “Yeah, what?” into the receiver.
There was a brief pause before a deep, gravelly voice Dean never thought he’d hear again said, “Hello, Dean.”
Dean found Cas asleep on the sofa, curled up like a shrimp. Some generic reality show buzzed softly on the television set, illuminating the darkened room.
For a long moment, Dean just stared at him. Only his bare feet and shock of dark hair protruded from the thin blanket he was wrapped in, his soft snore permeating throughout the otherwise quiet room.
It couldn’t really be him. It just couldn’t.
Gently, Dean reached out and let his fingers brush his shoulder, so gently that Cas didn’t even stir. Beneath the blanket, the flesh was toned and warm, and distinctly human.
Dean tentatively touched him again, this time more firmly, letting his hand rest there a moment.
“Cas,” he whispered, shaking him gently. “Hey, Cas.”
Cas awakened with a soft, startled snort, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in a way that reminded Dean of a sleepy kitten.
Dean watched him in sheer awe, unable to believe this wasn’t a dream: this was, most definitely, Cas. His Cas.
He blinked at him, squinting dazedly. “…Dean?” he inquired, voice still slurred from sleep.
Dean swallowed wetly. “Yeah, it’s me, buddy.”
The blanket pooled around Cas’s waist, and only then did Dean register Cas wasn’t wearing anything except for his boxers.
Cas followed his eyes, then gathered the blankets up around him, abashedly. “Apologies,” he murmured. It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but he seemed to be blushing. “My clothes are in the wash. They have been…persistently dirty.”
Dean chuckled, but decided against telling Cas that a suit like that would be dry-clean only. “No worries, man. I’m just happy to see you.”
Well, that was the understatement of the twenty-first century. Dean realized belatedly his hands were on Castiel’s forearms, though whether they were trying to steady himself or Cas he really didn’t know. He made no effort to remove them.
“So, you’re uh. Sleeping,” Dean remarked, stupidly. “Does that mean you’re low on grace, or…?”
Cas shook his head. “No,” he said gravely. “I’m human. Completely, it would seem. My grace was extinguished when Lucifer stabbed me.”
Dean blinked. This couldn’t possibly be real, could it? Cas was human, and it seemed to be permanent. There’d be no more vanishing off to heaven, no more long, lonely nights wondering where he was. Cas would be soft and warm and tangible now, possibly forever.
It was a dream come true. Dean was about to say something along the lines of “that’s amazing,” when he realized belatedly Cas was crying, his chest heaving in quiet, painful sobs.
Dean scooted to sit beside him, never taking his hands off Castiel’s arms, afraid he’d disappear if he stopped touching him for one instant.
“Cas, buddy, what’s the matter?” he murmured, tipping his head to get a better view of his face. “You’re alive, man. We can finally go home.”
“But I’m a human again, Dean,” he whispered. “I’ll never be anything more than a burden to you now!”
Dean opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, instead just wrapping the shaking form up in his arms. God, it felt so good to be able to touch him again, to hold him again, soft and warm and alive.
“You could never be a burden, baby,” Dean murmured, not even questioning where the endearment came from. He breathed in the smell of his mussed-up hair, still slightly damp from the shower and smelling like shampoo. “You never were. And it’s not gonna be like last time, either: I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay? I promise.”
Cas stubbornly pushed him away, still sniffling slightly and refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me, Dean. You owe me nothing.”
Undeterred, Dean scooted closer to him on the couch, putting a tentative hand on his knee. “Well, I want to,” he said with certainty. “And for the record, yeah, I do: I owe you a hell of a lot, Cas. You pulled me out of hell, saved me in every sense of the word. And I don’t think I can live without you anymore. Or at least, I sure as hell don’t wanna.”
Cas started to cry again, and Dean didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his bare shoulders, rubbing them gently, making soft, soothing sounds until the tears finally stopped.
Part of him was sad that he’d ever made Cas feel so useless, that he couldn’t convey the indescribable joy of just having him in his life. But another part, the larger part, couldn’t stop being happy that he was here again.
And that was all he needed.
That night, they lay in bed together, Dean gently, soothingly, stroking his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t stopped touching Cas since he’d gotten back, and he didn’t plan on it, either.
“Dean, I was thinking,” said Cas, thoughtfully. “I don’t believe hunting is a good career for me.”
Dean’s fingers momentarily stilled. “No?”
Cas shook his head. “I’ll continue to live in the bunker, of course, and I’d still join you on the occasional hunt, but I don’t believe I want it to be my primary career. I think I’d like to do something else.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Dean asked, more at ease now that Cas had confirmed he was going to keep living in the bunker.
Cas rolled to face him, looking slightly up at him through long eyelashes. “I think,” he said thoughtfully. “That I’d like to be a professor.”
“A professor?” Dean repeated, a little surprised by the assertion.
Cas nodded. “I have vast stores of knowledge from my long lifespan, and could easily relay enormous shares of it on history, theology, mythology, mathematics, physics, and/or combat strategies. I also retain fluency in over 150 human languages, and have a significantly higher than average IQ,” he added modestly. “I believe you and Sam would be able to forge me the appropriate credentials?”
Dean took a moment to process it: he thought of Cas coming home in a sweater vest and glasses, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all nerdy-hot. He liked the image immensely.
“Yeah, baby,” Dean grinned. “I think we can.”
Cas smiled softly, internally relieved at the thought of being useful at something. At being more than just a burden to his human family.
Sensing he was retreating back into his self-deprecating thoughts, Dean brushed a gentle thumb over his cheekbone. “Hey,” he said, tipping Castiel’s chin up to face him, meeting his eyes fully. “We’re gonna have a great life together, you hear? Not normal, I tried that and I think it’s safe to say it ain’t either of our cup of tea, but it will be a great one. I wanna marry you, Cas: I wanna propose, with a ring and everything, and then have a classic hunter wedding. Then I wanna take you on a long-ass honeymoon, somewhere warm and sunny, where we can do it on the beach, and maybe someday, we’ll even have kids. I wanna have it all with you, Cas. And then, someday, we’ll both kick it, and God-willing, we’ll spend eternity together in heaven, doin’ it like bunny rabbits.”
Cas’s eyes grew wider with each passing second, expression unreadable. Three days ago, he wouldn’t have even considered spilling his heart like this. But that was more than enough time to get a taste of what a missed opportunity would feel like, of the hollowness of losing Cas without him knowing how Dean felt.
Dean was never going to let that happen again, consequences be damned.
After a moment of silence, Dean smirked – trying to hide how vulnerable the confession had left him – and added, “That is, if a gorgeous babe like you is okay with spending eternity with my sorry ass.”
Cas blinked, then nodded mutely, expression vaguely stunned.
“Yes,” he said finally, voice barely a whisper. “Oh, God, yes.”
The next morning, Dean woke up next to Cas for the very first time.
Up close, in the daylight, he could see the delicate stubble of his jaw, full lips chapped and slack with sleep. He could see the dark fan of his eyelashes, the little lines between his eyebrows where they drew together when he was confused.
Dean couldn’t stop staring. Which, under most circumstances, might be considered the slightest bit creepy, but he figured turnabout was only fair play. And besides, if a man couldn’t watch his back-from-the-dead boyfriend sleep – or fiance, rather – what was the world coming to?
Warmth bloomed in Dean’s chest. He wasn’t sure how this had happened, or why. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this to Sam, and he didn’t care.
All he knew was that Dean Winchester was one lucky bastard, and wanted to wake up next to this for the rest of his life, snoring and all.
After a while, Castiel blinked open his eyes, blue and beautiful as a pool in summer. He smiled softly, and Dean hoped he was thinking something close to the same thing.
Summary: Bucky admires the girl of his
dreams, aka the Reader, during a party. Her only problem? The man holding her hand.
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: 2507
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex
(male receiving), love triangle, someone gets cheated on, a little bit of angst.
A/N: Here it is, my first attempt on
posting something of my own. This might be read by no one ever, but still, I’ve
had so much fun in the process and probably will do it again… Thank you so much @dretjie12 for being my beta and putting out with me. You have a special place in
English is not my first language, so you’ll
find grammar mistakes and nonsenses. Sorry! Feedback always welcomed!
Bucky enters the party making a beeline for the bar. It was one of Tony’s big shindigs at the Avenger’s Tower. He had lost count of how many he had attended since he joined the team and could barely remember the reason for it, if there ever had been one to start with.
It has been a slow process of readaptation after he came back from Wakanda, where T’chala’s scientists had finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggled with social events, preferring, instead, to hide in a nondescript corner sipping on whatever drink he took fancy to.
Taking a discreet balcony seat, he waits for the whisky he had ordered from the bartender. He searches the crowd, looking for the face he so longs to see.. Y/n
It had been like this from the moment he laid eyes on her. His gaze always searching, admiring her, his entire being longing for her presence. Bucky couldn’t understand why she had this effect on him, they had barely exchanged more than two words with her, shying away from her whenever she drew near.
But he was infatuated by Y/N, by how she had held his left hand when they were introduced, he was so entranced with her that he had held on longer than what was deemed socially acceptable, and yet she never let go before he did. The way her hair swung from side to side when she walked, how she was always looking straight into the eyes of whomever she was talking to, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, Oh her laugh! the most amazing sound Bucky had ever heard. And she was always laughing, with everyone…
Except with him. Why wouldn’t she speak to him? Fear… That was the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course an angelical person like her would be frightened by him…The winter soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin…
With the whisky now in his hands, his lips touch the glass when he finally sees her..
There she was, across the room, laughing while Sam talked to her. For a moment Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who was able to make her laugh like that. He takes a minute to admire the woman of his dreams. She had her hair curled falling on her shoulders and was wearing a long strappy black dress with a side slit that went high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up. The deep V neckline wasn’t doing any good to his mental state either…
God, she’s perfect – Bucky momentarily worries that he had said that out loud, But he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in her. Well, maybe the only problem is the man holding her hands. Steve Rogers, Captain America, Bucky’s best and only friend in the world, the man who started a fucking Civil War to defend him.
She was his girl. That’s why, besides the fact that he probably scares the shit out of her, he would never get to touch Y/N, feel her skin on his. Why he avoids any kind of direct contact and is happy to venerate her from a distance. He couldn’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or even approach her. Wait, could it be the reason why she avoided him as well? No, it’s fear, for sure.
He’s dated girls, trying hard to get her out of his head. He had slept with women that would probably be taken as more beautiful or sexier than Y/N by any other person. Not for Bucky though… All he accomplished was to compare her with every single woman he’s been with, and wonder how it would feel if she was the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.
“Jesus, you’re so screwed” Drowned in his thoughts Bucky’d missed the readhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a bench next to him with a smirk on her lips.
“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy was able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it was their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understood each other.
“Please Barnes, you’re offending me” Natasha rolls her eyes and takes the drink to her mouth.
Bucky leans down his head with a humorless laugh “That obvious, huh?”
“To me, yes”. She spends a moment observing him, who had got back to watch the woman across the room hand in hand with his best friend. With a sigh, she kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been discreet lately” Bucky turns his head, looking with eyebrows knitted close together at Natasha, who was showing a rare sympathetic smile.
“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”
The empathy on Natasha’s face was replaced by a familiar glare, before she stands up and turns her back leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing caught as “Stupid Super Soldiers. No Serum in the brains, for sure”. But that didn’t answer his doubts…
He watches as Natasha joins the rest of the gang who was now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint Barton. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who is sitting across from the Widow, leaning in to say something. She responds by pointing to the Bar where Bucky stood. The Captain turns his head to his best friend, grinning and making a gesture calling him toward the gathered group.
Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky nods and heads to the table that was also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, he notices that the only left seat was the one next to Y/N, who had her back turned to him.
“Hey Buck, Join us, the food is amazing” Steve said with a mouthful pointing to his plate with the fork.
The fact that his fellow Super Soldier was the only one eating - an exorbitant amount of food- made him remember the skinny kid from Brooklyn that could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brought a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which faded as soon as he spotted Y/N glancing nervously at the empty seat, avoiding his gaze..
“Uhmm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, attempting to refrain from the situation..
“Oh come on Buck, grace us with your presence, It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam was now talking, emphasizing the word in an attempt to tease his 100 year old friend.
Missing Y/N taking a long sip from her own whisky, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat.
The group of friends goes back to chatting, no one seems to notice Bucky flinching when his right thigh brushes against Y/N’s left one under the table. Goosebumps sprung unbidden across his skin. He was now expecting her to pull away and move the chair, but instead, she was leaning on his touch and the sensation was overwhelming…
All the noise surrounding them fades away, replaced by the sound of his beating heart.
He rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees Y/N doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness, he moves it closer to hers until their pinkies link between their laps. He feels dizzy when she softly caresses his finger with hers and all of a sudden, like it was the most natural thing to do, they have all of their fingers tightly interlocked, holding hands, covered by the table cloth.
Bucky’s mind was running in full speed, and was hard to catch his breath, but yet, for that moment, time seemed to have frozen and everything was slow motion. No… It was not fear… She was touching him, he had her soft hand in his calloused one. And it felt so right…
Bucky’s stupor was interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance.
“Are you ok, Barnes? Your face is white as sheet” It was Natasha, of fucking course.
With the unwanted attention, Y/N quickly removes her hand and backs away her leg, making Bucky feel empty.
“Ahm, Yeah I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky leaves the table choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends were apparently unfazed.
In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator he feels the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind. She had touched him, he could still feel the burning where their skin met and he knows that she was as much affected by it as him… What the hell was happening?
The quietness provided by the place was interrupted by the elevator ding, his heart jumps when he sees the person coming out of it and, without giving it a second though, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between Y/N and him, feverously pressing their lips together. She immediately kissed him back, one hand tangling in his chocolate locks, while the other snaked up his muscular chest.
Without breaking the kiss, Bucky pins her against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in her taste that he doesn’t want to let her go…Not again. He tastes the whisky she’s been drinking mixed with her chapstick and something sweet, that he knew was her, and only her.
Both of her arms around his neck now, one hand still grabbing his hair in a grip. She gasps for air and Bucky attacks her collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching the pulse point to lightly bite on it. She lets out a moan and tightens the hold on his locks.
“I need you… Please” She speaks with a breathless voice, reaching to palm the bulge in his pants. If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it was completely lost now. The avenger captures her mouth once again, travelling his hand up her exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under her panties to find her already damp, the sensation pulls a loud groan from him.
He pushes the black lace material down to her knees and she works her legs to let it drop to the floor, stepping out of it. Bucky pulls the opening of Y/N’s long gown up to her waist while she quickly goes for his belt, releasing Bucky’s erection. Not being able to lose any more time he guides his pulsing cock to her wet entrance. It feels like a punch to a gut when he finally sheaths his length inside her, the air leaving him in a long, torturous exhale.
Bucky holds her left leg up, keeping it locked around his waist, and uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while she maintains a firm grip on his shoulders. He goes slow at first, allowing their bodies to get acquainted with each other. For what feels like the first time, they stare into each others eyes, and at the moment, Bucky feels a sense of calm, a sense of peace he had not known for a long time..
He watches her as she closes her eyes and parts her lips slightly, whimpering in pleasure. “Oh Bucky…” hearing his name on her mouth in such a sinful way made his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of her.
His thrusts grow faster and the two of them become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together. The frenzy only increases when Bucky readjusts her leg on his waist and his flesh fingers meet Y/N’s clit. He circles the nub of nerves in fast, harsh circles, The slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation make her let out a scream of pure ecstasy, signaling her climax. Bucky feels her clenching around him and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer.
It startles him for a second when she pushes at his chest, forcing him to pull out of her pulsing heat. His mind goes blank when she sinks to her knees and envelops his throbbing cock with her hot mouth. Her soft lips around his cock and a few bobs were too much for him to handle. “I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky warns, only making Y/N clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from her. He groans loudly and she takes everything he has to offer, not missing a drop.
Struggling to breath, Bucky helps her get on her feet and keeps her in a tight embrace, forehead leaned against hers, both in a blissful state. When breathing wasn’t so hard anymore, she was the first one to speak.
“I love Steve… I really do” Bucky sighs at the mention of his friend’s name.
“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.
“I don’t want to hurt him” she continues. “But you…” She whispers. “You’ve been on my mind ever since we’ve met, I’ve been going crazy” tears starts to form in her eyes.
Bucky’s ribcage was fighting against the strong beating of his heart. “Yeah, I know the feeling, Doll” he says in a low voice, brushing his thumb on her cheeks.
She tears herself from him and leans down to grab her panties on the floor allowing him to gather himself too. “This can’t … won’t happen again” She manages to make her words convincing, standing up in front of him again, holding the delicate material.
Bucky closes his eyes and nods. He had known this was coming, but it did nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words. Y/N grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. They stare at each other for a long moment before she locks their lips together in a smooch. Bucky feels her shoving one hand inside of his pocket before she breaks the kiss to leave.
He keeps looking at the city lights when he hears the elevator going down. He knows that it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. But at that moment, all he could do was feel on cloud nine, turning his lips up in a grin, while his fingers played absent-mindedly with the piece of black lace inside his pocket.
guys i never wanna ask much of you but pls give me some feedback bc i am super nervous about this fic idk why pls
warning: this will make u sad :( bc sad and scared Dan Howell
Summary: “Straight Guy Worries He’s Being Homophobic To Gay Roommate, Realizes He’s Fallen In Love With Him.”
“You want to what?”
Dan chomped down on his crisps and held a finger up. His friend stared back at him and waited a bit impatiently for him to swallow.
“Move out.” Dan chewed another chip. “And get a roommate.” Dan said after swallowing.
Caspar was quiet before bursting into laughter which surprised Dan.
“You’re scared of people, buddy.”
Dan stuck the finger up as he ate the rest of his chips. He thought about what Caspar said and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t scared of people…. he didn’t like people he didn’t know or feel comfortable with.
Didn’t that damn Pineapple Boy know the difference?
Request: Hey Sweets. Damn today is horrible :/ Would you mind doing
an imagine with Bucky where you had a one-night-stand after a rough Mission but
you both have Feelings for each other which you dont talk about. So after the
sex he just leaves, leaving you heart broken. Over the next days you avoid him
then and Natasha finally tells him he is an ass (cause she knows what’s going
on). Then he realized how stupid he was and buys you flowers and all and apologizes,
then you talk about your Feelings ? :)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2122
Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, fluff
A/N: i teared up while writing this. okay i changed it up a little bit. i think it is my best work. thank you for the request. i hope i dont disappoint. leave a request or just come and talk. taglist is open ( i added protective Tony because who doesnt love it)
Heartbroken. That’s how he left you. Heartbroken, alone, and
Today’s mission was a tough one. Everyone was left battered
and bruised. Steve had a bullet wound to the shoulder and Natasha broke her
arm. You had a sprained wrist and cuts all over your body (being thrown through
a window will do that to you.)
You and Bucky had an unspoken bond. You could fight together
like a well-oiled machine, and he felt terrible that he couldn’t stop that from
happening to you. All he wanted was to protect you; to keep you from harm, even
though he had caused the worst pain you had ever felt.
A/N: This… is disgusting, plotless, irredeemable fluff. I’m sorry.
“What’ll it be, hon?”
This waitress can’t be for real. She’s ambiguously middle-aged, with poorly-bleached, preposterously floofy hair piled on top of her head. Wide hips, blue eyeshadow, one bad tooth - the works. She’s like a caricature. Hell, she’s even chewing gum, smacking it cheerfully between her tongue and her teeth. She’s unbelievable, is what she is. This whole diner is unbelievable. And true to his penchant for unbelievable things, Mulder is absolutely delighted.
Note: this is my first GoT fanfic so I hope its good, I plan on making many more for different characters and if you have any character suggestions that should be done first let me know!
You were never really
innocent, like far from it. You never acted like a lady but you were forced
too, until you dishonored your father, he sent you to the Nights watch to be
their fuck toy or something along those lines. At least you got to go to the
wall, you could handle yourself very well, and your uncle was the Commander
there so you would be treated fairly well.
Hey! I love your blog, I read it all the time! Would you be able to do like a sexual tension one with Daryl? They’re so hard to find these days, kind of like enemies to friends to lovers type??
–this is super long–
I hope you like it! 💕
You had been with the Saviours since the world turned to this. You were one of Negan’s top guys, he took you with him every time he visited a new community or needed people to fight against other groups who thought they stood a chance against you.
One day, Negan gathered a team to block certain roads he had marked on a map, and he took you with them. He had been talking about a group, the same group that killed dozens of your people, your best friend amongst them. If Negan wanted you to tear this group apart, you would definitely kill whomever he needed to be killed.
You stood next to Dwight when Simon told him to open the van, but you didn’t let him do it, you pushed him aside with your shoulder and he stumbled back. You opened the back door and pulled every single one of those people violently to the ground.
“He’s hurt”, Dwight told you before you could pull the last person out of the van.
He did look hurt, his face didn’t look healthier than a walker’s and he had a blanket wrapped around his body, looking like a terribly ill person. However, you didn’t care. His group had killed your people, your best friend, the woman that had saved you and helped you survive in this world. Even if it was for a second, you wanted him to feel the same pain that had stabbed you in the gut when you found out that your best friend was dead.
The man grunted in pain when you threw him to the ground and you smiled to yourself.
After Negan walked out of thatpiece of shit they had been driving, gave them the usual speech and beat two people to death, he took the leader of the group for a few hours and you were left in charge. Not Simon, not Dwight, you.
“Get some guns to the back of their heads”, you ordered them and the Saviours did as you said, although Dwight wasn’t sure why you gave that order.
“What are you doing?”, he whispered. “Negan didn’t say to do that.”
“Negan left me in charge, didn’t he?”, you arched an eyebrow and grinned smugly at Dwight, he only nodded.
A sobbing woman collapsed to the ground, her shoulders were still shaking so you knew she hadn’t passed out as you had assumed.
“Get up”, you ordered calmly, but she didn’t listen. “I said: get up.”
She stayed on the ground, but raised her face. You tried to contain your anger at being disobeyed, but then you remembered who were this people and what they had done, so you just let your anger find its way out.
“Get the fuck up!”, you yelled at her. The injured man got on his feet and his blanket fell to the ground, he stood in his place but looked right at you.
“Why’re you doin’ this?”, he asked in a violent voice. You raised your eyebrows at his question, surprised at his boldness, and chuckled grimly.
“You’re not really asking that, are you?”, you walked towards him, but he only looked back at you defiantly. “Because you killed a lot of our people, a whole fucking lot of our people.”
He didn’t say anything, but his stare was still hard on yours.
“Now get back on the ground or I’ll kill one more of your friends”, you threatened and he stayed still for a moment, then he sat on the ground again.
Negan returned once dawn was breaking, he was holding the leader of the group from the collar of his shirt and threw him right in front of his people.
“(Y/N)”, Negan called you. “Did any of these fine people here misbehaved?”
You turned to look at the man who had confronted you, but you shook your head at Negan’s question.
“Good”, he chuckled and continued to torture the leader. He even used his son as a way of breaking him, you thought he was being too hard on them by using a kid like that, but now that he was back, he was the one in charge.
You looked away and met the eyes of the injured man, he was looking at you with hatred in his stare through the dirty locks of hair that hung over his face. Your eyes wandered down his body, travelling down his bare arms and his chest, as a few buttons of his shirt had fallen when you pushed him down the van; every inch of his body radiated anger, you could almost feel the heat of his hatred pouring out his pores as he looked at you.
“Dwight”, Negan’s voice pulled you out of that moment. You turned your head to look at him and saw him pointing Lucille at the man. “Load him up.”
Load him up? Why did he even want him? What was he planning on doing with him?
Dwight grabbed that man and dragged him back inside the van you had pulled him out of last night.
“(Y/N)”, Negan called you. “Get in that van and drive him back to the compound.”
You nodded and got inside the vehicle, sitting on the passenger seat and staring at the morning light falling on the forest, wondering if you could fulfil Negan’s order before you killed the man inside the van. You shook your head, refusing to obey one of his orders wasn’t a smart thing to do, and the fear of getting your face burnt with an iron was bigger than your desire to kill those people.
You drove back to the Sanctuary and jumped out of the van as soon as you had parked, you walked to the back and opened the door to pull that man out of the vehicle. He was sitting down, his eyes lost on the metal box and his skin as pale as that of the walkers’ inside the cage.
You grabbed the man by his shit and threw him to the floor. He grunted and got on his feet quickly, trying to recover his balance. You kicked him in the stomach and he tumbled down, hitting the ground loudly.
“Simon, take him to his cell”, Negan ordered as he got out of his truck.
“I’ll take him”, you told him, picking up the man from the collar of his shirt.
“Seriously?”, Negan walked towards you. “I mean, are you sure you can handle him, sweetheart?”
You felt a little offended at his words, so to show Negan you could handle him, you made the man drop to the ground again by kicking him on the knees and dragging him all the way from the gates to his cell.
Negan chuckled as he watched you, he was never disappointed in what you could do.
You opened the grey door and pushed him inside. You noticed he had blood on his knees and on the palms of his hands, he had a look of sorrow in his eyes, the same look you had been having since your friend died. You suddenly realised that he had witnessed two of his friends dying, and judging by the look on his face while that happened, they were close friends. But you couldn’t feel sorry for him, he had done worse than what Negan did to them.
“You deserve this”, you murmured as you closed the door. “And more.”
As you laid on your bed that night, you couldn’t take your mind off of that man. You had been broken when you found out about your best friend’s death, but that man had seen them being beaten to death, their brains splattered on the ground and their blood flying in the air each time Negan swung Lucille. Maybe you had let your anger control your actions when you hurt him like that, making his knees and hands bleed through rocks and glass and metal on the ground as you dragged him. It didn’t matter, though, you didn’t get to decided his fate. Negan did.
The next morning you woke up unwillingly, you had only slept a couple of hours but it had felt like five minutes to you. However, you took a shower and got dressed, ready to go to work.
“(Y/N)”, Negan greeted as he walked down the hall and you walked out of your room, you dropped to your knees but he signalled you to get up, so you did. “We’re going to the Hilltop today.”
“Good, I’ll just go get my-“
“No, we’re going”, he corrected. “I want you to stay and check on that Daryl guy.”
“Who?”, you asked. You had been so submerged on your hatred the day before, that you had completely missed his name.
“The guy we brought here yesterday”, he elaborated. “Keep an eye on him.”
“But-“, you tried to fight it, you liked going to the Hilltop because you had made some friends there, and staying in the Sanctuary to babysit a guy you didn’t even like wasn’t something you wanted to do.
“You can handle him, right?”, he arched an eyebrow and smirked. You sighed in defeat and nodded. He walked away and you saw a few men and women walking behind him, holding their guns and holding the car keys, those were the people he was taking to the Hilltop this time. Lucky bastards.
You opened the grey door of his cell and placed a paper plate with a sandwich of dog food that you had prepared for him. He took it quickly and devoured it in a second. You noticed that he was naked, probably some kind of attempt at humiliation from one of Negan’s men. The light from outside casted shadows on his body, making his muscles more evident for you. His broad shoulders and strong arms bounced with each bite he took of that nasty sandwich you had made for him.
You took your eyes off of him and saw a polaroid picture on the floor, next to him. A polaroid picture could only mean one thing at the Sanctuary, and you wondered who had given it to him.
You bent over to pick up the picture and he turned his head to look at you. His eyes were swollen and his dark circles were now red, you realised he had been crying. You felt bad for him, giving him that picture was a kind of torture you hadn’t even thought yourself.
“Who’s this?”, you asked him as you took the picture. He didn’t say anything, he turned around, letting his bare back be only part of him that you could see and every muscle in his back strained as he turned around. “Number one or number two?”
He lowered his head and curled closer to the corner of the room. You exhaled sharply and rubbed your forehead with two fingers.
“I’m sorry about that”, you said after realising you were being too hard on him. “I know what it’s like to lose people.” He got on his feet and turned around to look at you. He seemed angry.
“We killed your people, I get it”, he said. “But I bet they were just soldiers, more men working for you here, they ain’t your family or your friends.”
You pushed him against a wall and took your gun out, your right hand was wrapped around his throat and your left one was holding the gun that you pointed at his head.
“You don’t know a thing about me, so I suggest you shut the fuck up”, you threatened through gritted teeth.
He only looked back at you until you released your grasp on him. You walked out of his cell and locked it again, rattling the keys angrily as you did it.
In that moment, you might had seemed like the worst enemies, but there wasn’t another moment when Daryl and you had been more alike. You were two people, hurt by the death of their friends, feeling lonely and guilty and a hundred other emotions that were too hard to understand. However, you had a hard time trying to empathise with him, and every time you tried, the thought of him killing your friend came back to your mind.
Fat Joey was never the careful or responsible kind, he went to Daryl’s cell to drop his lunch and forgot to lock the door when he left. Daryl considered his options, that would either be a trap or just carelessness from the Saviour.
However, he decided to act quickly and he just left. He walked cautiously down the hall, hiding behind walls and doors each time he heard someone approaching. The voices became louder as three men were about to turn on the corner of the hall, right towards Daryl. He panicked, as there was no place to hide. He opened one of the doors and entered quickly, shutting it behind him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”, you screamed as you saw him in your room. You had just taken a shower and your towel was on the floor, you dropped to your knees and patted the floor desperately, looking for it. You picked up the towel and held it over your body, trying to cover yourself up.
Daryl was just standing there, looking at you. His eyes travelling down your body for only a couple of seconds, then he looked away.
“Get out!”, you ordered, but he didn’t obey. “Didn’t you hear me? I said: get out! Now!”
You didn’t even care that he had escaped his cell, the only thing that mattered was that he was in your room and you were naked. The heat on your face was burning your skin, your cheeks beaming with colour.
Daryl opened the door and left, you didn’t know how he had escaped, but you knew for sure that he wouldn’t get that far.
You sat on your bed and, before you put your clothes on, you thought about that moment. Daryl saw you naked, the last person you wanted to even look at you, had watched you jumping in surprise and dropping to your knees and moving on the floor as you searched for your towel, all of that while being completely naked. Yet you didn’t feel angry, and you found yourself embarrassed at wishing that that moment had lasted longer.
A couple of days went by and Negan hadn’t asked you to go check on Daryl, he had given that task to Fat Joey instead, but after his screw-up, he gave the job to Dwight.
But you wanted to see him. In that whole place full of people you had been living with, Daryl was the only one who understood what it was like to have someone taken away from you.
You stood in front of his door in the morning. Very few people were awake, but none of those people cared about Daryl or whatever happened near his cell, so you opened the door and entered.
You could see him under the weak light that filtered from the lamps in the hall, he had wounds and bruises on his face, and he was leaning on the wall with his head down.
“Daryl, right?”, you called and asked if that was his name, at least that’s the name Negan had used on him. You closed the door, so you couldn’t see him anymore. “I’m not gonna hurt you, at least not right now.”
He didn’t say anything, and judging by the silence that had flooded the cell, he wasn’t moving either.
“I’m sorry about your friends”, you murmured sincerely, yet he remained quiet. “I’ve lost people too.”
“Who?”, he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. You jolted slightly at the sudden sound of his voice, but you answered.
“A woman, she…”, you stopped talking as your voice was breaking, you cleared your throat and proceeded. “She was my best friend. And now she’s dead.”
“How?”, his question was simple but answering was not. You were sure that a part of him knew how your friend had died, maybe he was just trying to hurt you.
“You killed her”, you said dryly. “Or your friends.”
“I’m sorry”, he told you and it sounded genuine. You frowned, those were probably the last words you expected to hear from him.
“Killing them people did nothing for us”, he said. “It only got our own people killed.”
“Were you close?”, you asked.
“Yeah”, was his only answer, but you didn’t need more. His voice, the tone he had used, the single word reply had been enough to tell you that he was devastated about the death of the two men. “Were you? With your friend?”
“Yes, very close”, you felt a twinge of sadness in your chest as your mind went through all those memories you had with her.
You talked about your friends for a few more minutes, then the conversation turned to yourselves and how you had survived all this time. He even asked you how you had come to be in Negan’s group, since he thought you weren’t a bad person. You asked him how he ended up with a group that murdered dozens of people in their sleep, and the talk became a little more tense.
However, everyday you spent a while in his cell, he expected your visit each day around the same time, which was always at sunset, when the guards got hungry and went for dinner, and the people int he halls were tired and went to their rooms.
Things with Daryl weren’t as bad now, you two understood each other perfectly. His people had killed your people and your people had killed his people, and unexpectedly, that brought you together. You didn’t hate him anymore, even if you did feel that your best friend’s death had been somewhat his fault, yet you wanted him, more than you wanted to admit, and he wanted you just as much.
One night, after visiting him, you headed back to your room, but before you could get there, Negan appeared in front of you. “Where you’ve been?”, he asked. You were surprised to see him there, but even more to hear him asking you that. He had surely seen you leaving Daryl’s cell.
“I-I was, I mean, like, right now?”, you stuttered and moved your hands as you spoke. Negan chuckled bitterly for a second, but then any trace of amusement left his voice.
“You’ve been seeing that Daryl guy, haven’t you?”, his face was stern and a twinge of anger hid behind his voice, you couldn’t help but feel a little afraid.
“No, I mean, I’ve been keeping an eye on him like you ordered, if that’s what you’re asking me”, you said nervously.
“That’s not your job anymore”, he took a step closer to you until his lips were close to your ear, so he could speak and no one but you could hear. “I don’t want to see you in that cell again, I don’t want you talking to him, I don’t want you fucking him, not even looking at him.”
Your breathing became heavier as you heard him speak, you had always pitied those who disobeyed Negan, but now you were in that list.
“Do you understand?”, he took his face away from yours and stepped back. You didn’t answer, you were still trying to process the fact that he had been speaking to you so close that his breath had touched the inside of your ear. He cupped his hand inside his ear and raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Y-yes”, you answered at last.
“Good, and you know better than anyone, I’m everywhere”, he smirked and winked at you, then he walked away.
You exhaled deeply, relieved that he was gone, and you went back to your room. You took your clothes off and just left your underwear on, then you put an oversized t-shirt on, that was pretty much what you wore every night for sleeping.
As you laid in bed, all you could think about was Daryl. You tossed and turned in bed, trying to shake him out, but he refused to leave. You wanted him so bad, the fact that he was a murderer had become so exciting for you, and you remembered how he looked the first time you had dropped food for him, he had been completely naked. His warm skin was sweaty and shiny, you had wanted to run your hands down his entire body and you wanted to do the same now.
You couldn’t stand it anymore, so you pushed the sheets off of you and got on your feet immediately, but you suddenly stopped. You remembered that Negan had warned you not to go anywhere near Daryl’s cell, but you figured that one more night wouldn’t hurt anyone.
You were one of Negan’s “top guys”, so you knew exactly were the people who watched the halls would be at that time. You travelled carefully down the halls with your nightwear, you didn’t care anymore if someone saw you like that, all you wanted was to get to Daryl’s cell.
There was no one guarding the door and you had a set of keys, so you opened it and entered quickly.
“(Y/N)?”, he called from the other side of the cell.
“Yeah, it’s me”, you said between breaths. You heard him walking closer to you.
“What’re you doing here?”, he asked, you heard him louder this time since he was only a few steps away from you.
“I just- I couldn’t sleep”, you told him. The darkness in the room didn’t allow him to see the radish shade that had climbed to your cheeks. “And I think it’s because of you.”
“Me?”, he asked gruffly.
“Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking about you”, you confessed.
You raised your hands and tried to find him, you stretched your arm completely and felt his chest in the palm of your hand. You walked in that direction and placed both of your hands on his chest, feeling the fabric of his sweatshirt.
“I’m not supposed to be here, you know?”, you told him seductively.
“Why?”, he asked huskily.
“Negan told me to stop coming here”, you sighed.
“Then why are you here?”, his voice wasn’t aggressive but it was low and hoarse.
“Because I don’t want to stop coming here”, you smirked but he couldn’t see it.
“They could’ve see ya.”
“I don’t care”, you blurted out.
“You don’t care?”
“No, ‘cause I just want you.”
You took the step that separated you two and tucked your hands under his sweatshirt, feeling that warm skin that you were longing to touch. He didn’t move or say anything, he just remained still and you could feel that his heart was pounding faster.
You felt a sheen layer of sweat on his body and it only made you want him even more, you pulled the sweatshirt over his body and he helped you with it, pulling the hem of it over his head, and you finally knew for sure that he wanted you too.
Your hands fell from his chest to the waistband of his pants, you started to pull it down, teasing the skin of his hips as you did and grazing his crotch your fingertips. His muscles clenched when you touched him there, but he wanted more.
Daryl placed his hands awkwardly on your butt and noticed you were wearing nothing but panties on your lower body, you arched your back and pushed your butt out to let him feel it better, then you pulled his pants all the way down and he kicked them off his ankles.
You couldn’t see him, but you felt him breathing and shuddering under your touch, he was also touching you, but his hands were only set on your butt.
“I want you to fuck me, Daryl”, you whispered breathily and wrapped your hand around his cock.
“A’ight”, he said huskily and cupped one side of your face with his hand, he slightly tilted it back and buried his face in your neck, grazing his nose on it and taking a bit of your skin between his teeth. The sound of your moans only made him harder, because he knew that the pleasure you were starting to feel was just for him.
When his teeth let go of your skin, you found yourself wanting more, so you pushed him against the wall and pinned his wrists at the level of his head.
Daryl grunted and released one of his wrists from your grasp, he put his hand on your lower back and pulled you closer to him. He felt the fabric of your shirt there, so he grabbed it strongly and pulled hard, trying to rip it off of you.
You took your hands to his and stopped him for destroying your shirt, you pulled it over your head instead. Daryl took his hands to your bra and pulled the straps down, then he massaged your nipples over the cups. You unclasped it and it fell to the floor, now Daryl was touching your bare skin and nipping your boobs.
However, that’s not what you wanted. You wanted, needed him inside you.
You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself up, hooking your legs around his waist; to keep your balance, you slammed your hands on the wall on either side of his head. You started shoving your hips against his stomach, and he used one hand on your butt to keep you in place and the other to wander up your thigh.
When his fingers found your centre, you rocked your hips so they would sink in deeper. Daryl felt his fingers moistening as he buried them inside of you and your voice becoming raspier as you moaned for him.
“Daryl”, you called him between moans. “Just fuck me. Now.”
He didn’t need to hear it again, he placed his hands on your waist and positioned you at the level of his cock, you wrapped your legs more tightly around his torso.
Daryl kept his hands firmly on your waist, making you stay in place, and he moved forward. You whimpered when you felt his cock inside of you for the first time, yet it only left you wanting more. You shoved your hips together at a quicker pace, making him grunt in pleasure and rake his nails down your waist. You wanted to scream each time his cock hit your clit, but you didn’t want someone outside to find out about what was going on in there. As Negan had told you, he was everywhere.
Daryl sank his face to your chest and bit your collarbones, still thrusting inside of you. You stroked his hair and pulled it, grinding your hips together. His face fell down to your bouncing breasts, nuzzling them and running his tongue around your nipples, you whimpered when you felt his teeth nipping on it, it was slightly painful but it felt so awfully good.
A strike of electricity built up in your stomach and made your muscles clench, you felt your body going weak as you panted.
You felt him starting to go tense as his pace became slower, he knew what was about to happen, so he grabbed your hips and pulled himself out of you.
He put you on the floor, but your ankles were too weak to hold your weight, so you almost fell but Daryl held you in his arms.
“I have to go now”, you said, trying to recover your breath. You dropped to your knees and gently pushed his arms away from you, you trailed your hands down the floor as you searched for you clothes. Once you found them, you put them on quickly and headed towards the door, it also took you a while to find that one.
You opened the door and squinted your eyes at the sudden light that hit your eyes in contrast to the darkness in Daryl’s cell. You turned back to the cell and saw Daryl standing with his back against the wall, he was still naked and with a layer of sweat on his entire body.
He didn’t turn to look at you before you closed the door, he just stared at the wall on the opposite side through the wet strands of hair that fell over his eyes.
You shut the door and used your keys to lock it, trying not to make noise as they rattled, then you walked back to your room.
Frost’s cousin got engaged and he
needs to go to the engagement party in Nebraska. Since he doesn’t have a girlfriend, Jonny
wants you to pose as his significant other, this way he doesn’t look stupid. Of
course The Joker doesn’t like the idea, but dammit, your best friend needs
“Absolutely not!! NO! No way!” J
grumbles when you ask to go with Frost. “You’re my girl, not his!” he hisses,
feeling the blood running through his veins faster.
“Come on, baby, pleeaseee, you know
he just broke up with his girlfriend and he can’t go alone,” you pout, slowly
rocking your body in front of him, trying to appear as adorable as possible.
“I’ll let you know when I care,” he
growls, unhappy at the situation.
“You gotta be nice to him sometimes,
J. He’s the best man we have, you know that,” you go and sit in his lap,
strategically placing a kiss on his neck, one of the weak spots you so well
“I am nice,” he replies, taking a
deep breath, suddenly warmer. It’s working.
“Like when, baby?!” you try to find an example and can’t find any in your recent memory.
“He’s still alive, I didn’t kill him
yet! Isn’t that nice of me?” J scoffs, proud of his achievement. “Like, what
other proof do you need??!!”
“Please, boss, I promise I will take
good care of her; it’s just for 2 days,” Jonny finally speaks, trying his luck.
Man, he really doesn’t want to show up
there without anybody by his side.
“Maybe you should have held onto
your girl the way I hold on to mine, hmm? I still have her because I know how
to treat a lady,” he scoffs, making sure his hair is slick the way it’s supposed be, overconfident in his boyfriend material skills.
escapes your lips before you can stop it.
“What is that supposed to mean, Pumpkin?”
The Joker puckers his lips, waiting for an
You don’t reply, just kiss the
sensitive spot again, breathing on his skin for a few seconds and that sends
shivers down his spine.
“Please baby, I really want to go…yes?”
you move your hand under his unbuttoned shirt, caressing the soft skin while
giving him the look. Ahhh, the look: that’s the secret weapon you
use when you really want it your way. This is one of those times that require
special strategy: all gloves are off because your best friend needs help.
“Ummm…no…” he whispers but his
determination went down a notch. His eyelashes flutter while you keep on
staring at him with that naughty, devilish smile on your face.
“I’ll go crazy on you if you say yes, you bad boy,” you bite your lip,
winking at him and signal Frost to get out with the free hand behind your back.
He gulps, slapping your thigh,
pretending not to care:
“You always go crazy on me,
“Yeah, well, think of that times four…hmmm?”
you smirk, pulling on his bottom lip and he grins, intrigued:
five!” you are fast to add, your hand sliding down his waist as you kiss
his neck, biting the soft skin from time to time. He purrs, enjoying the
sensation and you already have some insane things in mind for him.
Jonny closes the door behind him,
trying not to make a sound. “Poor Y/N, the
things she has to do for me. I don’t deserve her; she really is the best friend
someone can have,” he thinks with pride and if this was a movie, there would
truly be some heroic music playing in the background.
“Oh, wow, you have such cool
tattoos!” Frost’s family remarks after you were introduced as his girlfriend
about 15 minutes go. There are probably about 30 people at the house. Smalltalk started on the way to the living room and it cracks you up they have no
clue about what he does for a living. He’s not really close with anybody so he
barely sees them from time to time, that’s why they are oblivious to his lifestyle. And he wants it that way. But for certain events like this one you just have
to man up and go with the flow- in
this case go with your boss’s girl.
“Property of J, I Love J, J+ Y/N, J & Y/N Forever… Wow, Jonny, she has so many tattoos with
your name, I think it’s super cool,” his cousin gets excited while reading
them. If they only knew it’s not about him… but since Joker and Jonny share
the same initial, works like a charm. At least no one but your real boyfriend
can see the Property of Joker tattoos scattered in different…places on your body, otherwise they would be intrigued on why Frost’s name
is not there.
“He is one lucky bastard,” you blur out,
holding onto his arm and when his grandma gives you a disapproving glance you
correct yourself immediately. “Aren’t you honey?” you sweetly smile, pecking
his shoulder. Grandma seems to like that and she nods in agreement.
“I really am lucky, she’s amazing you
guys,” Frost kisses your temple, addressing everyone and they all go “awwwwww”.
One of the aunts touches your hair, mesmerized:
“I really love your hair, sweetheart,
it’s so bright. Does it take a long time to do?” she admires you bright red
locks with neon green tips.
“No, not at all. J helps me, I mean
Jonny,” you fix your tiny mistake even if you didn’t have to, sipping from your
“When are you guys getting married?”
his oldest uncle suddenly asks and you kind of roll your eyes. Frost is fed up
with this dumb question they ask every time he brings someone over at the rare
gatherings he attends so he spits out:
“We’re getting married soon, I asked
yesterday and she said yes.”
“Oh my God!” the relatives scream and
rush over to hug you both. “Congratulations, this is great!” You are speechless
and pinch his arm so hard his eyes get teary.
“So, Mrs. Frost, when will the happy
event take place? Soon after our wedding, I hope?” the groom-to-be excitedly
“Aaa, we don’t really know yet,” you
grin, trying to keep your composure because you didn’t expect this shit.
“Look at the sparkler Jonny got her,”
grandma takes your hand, studying the huge diamond ring that The Joker got you
for your 3 year anniversary. You just wear it like a wedding ring.
“Good job, my man,” the guys shake
Frost’s hand and pat his back. For the first time ever you just want to kill him.
“Jesus, would you just kiss your blushing bride?” his niece giggles and
pushes the two of you together.
“Blushing??!! Who?” you repeat,
confused while Jonny barely brushes your lips against yours so it won’t look
awkward. The crazy niece reaches her hands and presses your heads together,
resulting in a better kiss. You want to laugh on how stupid everything is when
your eyes wander to the back yard for a few moments and your heart stops: The
Joker just sits there, staring at you with his mouth open, shocked, not even
blinking and probably not breathing at this point.
“Fuck!” you whisper in low voice in
Jonny’s ear, not that you need to keep it down with everyone whistling and
clapping. “Don’t make any sudden moves, J is watching us. He’s outside.”
“Oh, crap!” Frost gets startled,
believing he’s already dead and this is just an afterlife dream.
“Don’t move I said, he can smell
fear,” you whisper again, and when you look one more time, J is gone. “He’s not there anymore,” you sigh, worried,
leaving Frost’s arms.
People start talking and asking you
two questions in the same time, that’s why you don’t hear the doorbell ringing.
“Hey, Jonny, your best friend is here. He said
you invited him to our party,” grandma’s voice resonates in the living room
while introducing the green haired man to everyone.
“The youth today”, she thinks, displeased at his appearance but still smiling.
What scares Frost the most is The
Joker’s wide smirk that doesn’t go well with the murderous sparkle in his blue
“Y-yes, I invited him.” Jonny nervously stutters. “Everyone… this is Jay.”
All the relatives introduce
themselves, analyzing the new comer because he sure looks interesting to say
the least. The younger girls snicker and elbow each other, really liking his
clothes and the toned abs showing from under his almost completely unbuttoned
“He’s so hot,” you hear them whisper
behind you and it makes you whimper, feeling sorry for them. “If you
only knew the devil that he is, little girls”, you have time to think before
you see him heading over towards you and Frost.
“Well, well, well, bestie,” The Joker takes a deep breath
and hugs Jonny. “Finally made it to the party, I didn’t want to miss on the
Frost panics but there is nothing he
can do. People start mingling and talking, probably the main subject being the
dude with the pale skin.
“Sir, I can explain,” he tries to
start the conversation, not raising his voice on purpose because he doesn’t
want the others to hear.
“What was that?” J turns his ear,
sarcastically pretending not to hear.
“Baby, please, it was for the show, you
know that,” you signal both of them to follow you to the other side of the room
for a little bit more privacy. You sure hope he won’t explode soon.
“For the show??! What show?!” he pants,
irritated, facing both of you when you reach the back wall.“You fucking kissed
my girl Frost???? You dare touch what’s mine???!!!! Thank God I decided to
follow you here and keep an eye on things. And look at what I have to deal with…
Would you also like her in your bed???!” he snaps, cracking his neck and you
know this is not good.
“N-no, boss, of course not, I swear!”
Jonny starts to sweat from all the emotions he’s going through and none of them
“Baby, please, “you go and take his
arm, trying to calm J down because the relatives are sure glancing towards your
little group even if they pretend not to care.
Suddenly, someone’s kid, a boy around
6 years old comes and tugs on J’s pants, trying to get his attention.
“Mister Toxic, do you like my
drawing?” he lifts up his hand with the paper, smitten with that wild hair
“Huh?” The Joker glares down at the
child, confused and enraged about the other problem also.
“I think he refers to your toxic
green hair, baby,” you pet his arm, hoping he won’t go insane.
“Get lost, kid!” J grumbles at the
kid and the boy gasps, noticing his silver teeth.
“Waaahhhh, Mister Toxic, are those bullets
“Go away I said!” he wants to push
the kid away and Jonny intervenes, yanking his arm and taking him to his
parents because he knows it won’t end pretty if this continues.
“So,” the future groom playfully punches J’s
shoulder, interrupting. “Are you going to be Jonny’s best man?” he chuckles.
“Him and this pretty lady getting married, I bet you are excited as hell, am I
If the Joker’s would have a detachable
jaw, it would definitely be on the floor right now.
“Say what?!” he narrows his eyes,
watching Frost coming back to you. “Jonny boy, I heard you’re getting married?”
he snorts with murder in his mind and you are ready to do something if needed.
“J, it’s not like that and you know
it,” you reply and the groom looks confused. Something seems very out of place.
“This is MY woman!!!!” he suddenly loses it, shouting so loud that everyone’s
eyes turn towards your small group. He points at you, furious as hell:” SHE IS MINE and she has what she needs right here, do you hear me Frosty boy?” The
Joker takes your right hand and places it on his crotch, holding it tight on
the spot. You are at a loss of words and so is everyone else.
“Oh, dear Lord!”, “What the…?…”, “
Did he just…?” you hear people muttering and it pisses you off he dares to ruin
everything with his childish, entitled and possessive behavior. AGAIN.
“Christ Almighty!” you see grandma
making the cross symbol, horrified at the scene unfolding in front of her eyes.
You pull your hand away and in the heat
of the moment you go and grab Frost’s crotch, taking him by surprise:
“He also has what I need right here, so there’s
no difference!!!!” you yell, irritated to the maximum.
Grandma faints and falls to the
ground with a loud thud, a few relatives rushing to her side.
“You…You son of a bitch!!!!!” The
Joker unexpectedly charges at Jonny, punching his lights out before he can
defend himself. “Let’s go!!!” he forcefully drags you after him, while the
family steps aside, not wanting to mess with the crazy guest that looks like is
going to kill them all.
“He also has what you need, huh?” J
shoves you in his car, fastly blinking because he sees dark spots, that’s how
enraged he is. “Nobody has what you need but me, is that clear Doll?!”
Needless to say he definitely proved
his point once you got back to the penthouse. Think about the wild stuff he
usually does to you times six. Maybe seven. You couldn’t wear high
heels for a week because you couldn’t really feel your legs.
God, the things you have to go
through for your best friend, but if you won’t, then who else will?
And, yes, if this was a movie, that
heroic music would start playing again right about…NOW.
The bright sun streams through a small crack in the curtains early in the morning, unceremoniously waking you up. You roll over in bed in an attempt to hide from the rude awakening but it is no use. Once you have been woken up, there’s no going back to sleep.
You open your eyes and find yourself face-to-face with your laptop, which kept you up until well past four in the morning. At the time, binge watching your favorite show on Netflix had felt like a wonderful idea. Now, due to the exhaustion that clings desperately to your bones, you realize that staying up so late probably wasn’t such a great plan after all.
pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader summary: People do crazy things when they’re in love. Daveed never thought he would be the one to do any of it. Rating: Fluff and Angst for days. word count : 2.1k+ inspiration:“What does it feel like, to lose everything?”
author’s notes: I do plan on continuing this but I would appreciate feedback and ideas on what to do next. If you want to be tagged in the eventual sequel, just tell me! :) Enjoy guys!
He remembers the first time he met her. It was the night one of Anthony’s friends decided to throw a cocktail party and Daveed – the party animal that he is – decided to attend. Little did he know that he had decided too hastily as the people who were there weren’t exactly the liveliest. He would attempt to strike up conversations but all things led back to his role in Hamilton; it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but at that point he had gotten tired of having to discuss this one role he had over and over again.
Two hours in and he had already downed a few shots by the bar. He was by no means wasted but did he ever want to forget the night so far. That was until he saw red at the corner of his eye. A red dress, clinging to all the right places of the body it was on. His eyes traveled up to her face and he swore, even with the booming music, that he went senseless.
Harry didn’t have much experience planning dates. Up until this point he’d been more of a ‘charm a woman during pub night with the lads or on the rarer occasion when he was dragged to a club, go back to her place, have sex, say thanks, and leave’ kind of guy. There were never any expectations or disappointments for any party involved but he still felt pretty shitty afterward.