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itsthewritergal · 3 months

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Get up Buck - B.Barnes X reader

Here it is! The final part.

I hope you all enjoy :)

TW; suicide, death, character death, swearing, (happy ending tho!)

PART 1

PART 2

“She is to be kept on 24 hour surveillance for the next four days. She is going to be tired and weak and you need to be looking after it. It is going to be hard work for everyone involved and you need to never make her feel bad for it” The Psych Doctor explained to Steve and Tony,

“I understand, I can promise she will be safe” Tony said firmly, “Is she ready to go?”

“You’ve signed all the consent forms?” The doctor asked

“Everything’s been signed and paid for” Steve said, “I’d just like to get her home”

“On the understanding that you bring her back the moment you can’t handle it”

“I don’t need handling” Y/N said firmly appearing in the doorway of her room,

“I didn’t mean it like that” The doctor said gently

“You can’t keep me here so if you don’t want me at the compound I can go home” She said, and Tony felt his heart break.

“We want you at the compound” Tony placed his hand softly on hers,

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked searching Tony’s face for any sign of uncertainty

“Yes” Tony said, picking up her suitcase that was packed

“Y/N, here is a few emergency numbers you can call if things get bad again” the doctor said handing Y/N a pamphlet filled with self-help book recommendations and numbers for therapists.

“She won’t need them, but thank you” Steve said

The ride to the compound was filled by the soft humming of Wanda to the radio, Steve and Bucky muttering in the back of the car and Nat trying to pull conversation out of Tony who was clearly preoccupied with googling all the best therapists near to the compound. Y/N had her head resting on the cool glass of the window as the compound rolled into view. It was a sight she had wanted to forget, her hands balled up in her shirt trying to disperse some of the anxiety of moving in. Tony had taken her to her apartment a few hours before to get her things together.

“I gave Vis and Clint clear instructions for your room, your stuff will be in there” Wanda said

“They won’t have unpacked it though?” Y/N double checked

“No of course they won’t have” Steve said softly “We will have to check your bags though”

“I’m not going to smuggle in anything that’s going to hurt me” Y/N said with a roll of her eyes,

“We can’t take that risk, you can choose whoever to check through them but we have to check” Steve said in an authoritative tone

“Nat” Y/N said quietly

“Sounds good sweetheart” Nat said with a soft smile,

“Movie night tonight, what are we watching?” Tony said trying to lighten the mood

“I think it’s Bucky’s turn to pick” Wanda said gently, Bucky felt his heart squeeze

“Friends” He said without skipping a beat

“Friends?” Tony asked,

“Yeah, I want to watch Friends tonight” He said, he knew it was Y/N’s favourite show to watch when she was feeling down. It wasn’t much but it was a start to making her feel better.

“That’s not a movie but I guess we can watch it” Tony said with a huff,

“Y/N sweet or salty popcorn?” Wanda asked

“Either, I think I’ll probably head to bed. So it might be a better idea for someone else to choose” She said quietly

“I want both” Clint interrupted, as the car rolled to a stop

“Nat can you show Y/N her room?” Tony said as they climbed out the car.

It had been two days, Tony had kept Y/N under close super-vision. Not that she would have known it. He made sure that all the agents had been briefed to know that she was to be treated normally, just like she had been treated when she was at the compound with Bucky.

“You need some sleep” Steve said as Tony slumped into the meeting room with yet another cup of coffee

“Everyone’s either too tired or on missions to do the over night shifts of watching her, so I don’t have a choice” Tony said “Sleep is for the weak”

“What if I took the overnight tonight?” Bucky suggested “You’re giving her the sleeping tablets so she won’t wake up, I’m not on missions this week so I don’t mind one all-nighter”

“What would you do if she did wake up?” Tony asked, Bucky knew it was a test. He wasn’t stupid, but there was a part of him that was insulted

“I’d come and get you or Steve and I’d stay away” Bucky said, it was a lie, he wasn’t sure how he’d react. Wasn’t sure if he could stay that far away from her if she was hurting, but he had to try

“I don’t know” Tony said warily

“It’s one night, then you can look after her 24/7 the rest of the week” Steve suggested,

“Fine” Tony agreed.

The night was going smoothly, Bucky felt a little like a stalker watching Y/N sleep on the secret cameras Tony had installed. But he took a little bit of comfort in watching her so peacefully, it had been one of his favourite past-times when they were together. Not that she ever knew about it, back then she would have teased him mercilessly if she had found out. He would have loved it, he’d love it even more if she was to find that spark again, but he knew better than to wish for that much.

Y/N stirred a little in her sleep and Bucky felt his chest tighten, she was wearing his shirt. He was sure he had lost it months ago, yet here it was. Bucky zoomed in a little on the camera to check that she wasn’t waking up, her face contorting into a pained grimace. Suddenly she sat bolt upright and was desperately searching in the duvet for something. Bucky could sense the panic, his hand hesitating over the button that would call Tony and Steve. Until she stopped, her hands wrapped around something. Something that Bucky couldn’t believe. And so he called for Steve.

“Is she okay?” Steve asked out of breath,

“I need you to put me in a cell tonight” Bucky said calmly, it wasn’t a request Steve wanted to hear,

“What’s going on? Do I need to call Shuri?”

“She’s got the bear” Bucky said quietly,

“The bear?” Steve asked in a dumbfounded way, he knew it was the middle of the night but his brain was desperately trying to keep up with Bucky’s train of thought

“When we were together we went to this bear shop, where you could design your own and she made a Bucky Bear” He said, tears daring to fall from his eyes “She paid extra for her bear to have a matching arm to mine” His metal fingers flexed, “I always said that as long as she had the bear I’d be with her” His voice broke on the last syllable

“Buck”

“I need you to put me in a cell because otherwise I’m going to go in there and I can’t betray Tony like that”

“I won’t lock you up” Steve said

“Then call Tony” Bucky snapped

“No” Steve said firmly

“Steve I have very little willpower right now. I can’t stay away from her when she’s hurting like this” Bucky said

“I don’t think you should” Steve said quietly, “I think she needs you”

“She hates me”

“She doesn’t”

That was all Bucky needed to hear, he was soon outside her door, his knuckles tapping on the soft wood of her door. It creaked open to show Y/N with tear trails down her cheeks. She didn’t dare move when she saw Bucky, almost as though she had forgotten how to.

“Y/N,” Bucky started but he couldn’t find the words

“What did you want Bucky?” She asked tiredly rubbing her eyes,

“I can’t” He took a deep breath “I lied, when I broke up with you. I lied to keep you safe, I was scared I was corrupting you. I wanted to keep you safe and I fucked up. But Y/N, I need to make it better tonight. I need you to let me hold you” he rambled quickly,

“Bucky” Y/N started

“I promise I will talk to you properly in the morning, you can yell or tell me you hate me, but please I can’t loose you. I won’t loose you. I need you to want to live, and I swear I will prove to you ever single day that life is worth it. Just please Y/N, if you can’t live for you, then live for me?” Bucky said he fell onto his knees begging Y/N,

“Get up Buck” she said softly

“Y/N” He started

“I’ve always slept better with you in the room” she admitted.

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#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes smut

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mango-sp1ce · 1 year

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Out of Sight (Out of Mind)

Danny hopped from foot to foot as he waited, constantly shifting his weight about. The store smelt strongly of herbs and spices. There were crystals on the walls and other things strewn about the area. It all looked so... cheesy. fake.

Makes for a pretty good coverup, he'd have to say.

With the sound of movement behind the counter, Danny stopped wriggling about and stood still. He leaned towards the counter and crossed his arms on top of it, his face already breaking into a grin as the person made their way to the front.

"What is it this time? I was slee- Oh." A cranky accented voice said as they made their way to the counter. They paused after making eye contact with him, before pulling a face.

Danny smirked at the man, before tossing the papers he'd been holding onto the counter.

Constantine didn't even try to protest, instead leaning forwards onto the counter as well to look over the papers. He let out a whistle as he shuffled them about, flipping through grainy photos from surveillance cameras.

"A big one, eh?" Constantine asks, flipping to a different photo before pausing. He groans, before letting the paper relax in his hands so that Danny can see the top of it as it curls. "And the bats are involved. You're not serious, are you?"

"Serious as the dead, Connie." Danny replies, pulling the picture from his hands. It's a grainy night vision camera photo of what looks to be a group of people in costume making their way down an alleyway covered in bright decals. "And I'd rather I don't actually cross paths with them. You can talk with them all you want, but I'd rather follow their lead."

"And you think they won't notice you?" The blonde asks. He's pulled all of the papers into a messy pile in his hands. Danny doesn't respond with an answer, instead winking before handing over the image for the pile.

He turns and begins to walk out, Constantine letting out a tired sigh as he moves around the counter to follow. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Yeah. It'll do you some good, though. Wouldn't be in this position if you weren't so fond of making bets. Maybe this'll teach you to stop making them." Danny replies, stepping out of the store and holding the door open for the older man.

"Yeah yeah. Consequences of my actions, and all that. Can we just get a move on?" Constantine grumbles, pulling a cigarette from somewhere in his trench coat as he looks about the street.

Danny rolls his eyes. And the cigarette rolls up into a ball in between Constantine's fingers, before rolling out of existence.

"First rule; no smoking around minors."

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny phantom crossover #danny phantom fanfic #batpham

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comfortless · 3 months

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AHH I was the anon from the Bear!Ko ask ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ I adore it so much like I’m kicking my feet and twirling my hair your ideas are CHEFS KISS AND IM GLAD YOU LIKED THE PROMPTT

Definitely not excited that you’re considering more hybrid stuff.. TEEHEE ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

BUT YEAH JUST THOUGHT TO DROP SOMETHING NEW CUZ WHY NOT! Maybe Ko being deployed on a mission to some wild terrain, having to camp out on the grounds for a while by himself. Reader taking interest in the behemoth and toying with him until he finds out they’re a fae or nymph

Or a game of hide and seek.. in the dark.. with him.. maybe even a wolf!ko

ONCE AGAIN ID LOVE TO SEE YOU WORK UR MAGIC ON THESE IDEAS (｡♥‿♥｡)

hi, 🧸!! working on something with a lycanthrope Kö at the moment, but this is… well it is something! i adore the idea of König with a cute (insatiable) nymph!! definitely give @cookiepie111’s Drink From The Leche of Sirens a read if you haven’t already. <3

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fae nonsense (reader is a tree nymph), vague smut.

It isn’t that he ever intended to be here, not really. Simple surveillance, Fender had told him. Any knowing soldier would recognize the equipment that did not even need hands to tend to it, the cameras that should be set and monitored, and yet there were none in place here— just König, a loaded gun, and the stillness of the forest that seemed to stretch ever onward.

There’s been a lapse for the past week, with Kortac’s most adept at retrieving information out seeking just that, off with their radios constantly abuzz and adrenaline running rampant through their veins.

There’s an envy harbored somewhere in the back of his skull, twittering and hissing when he thinks on it too much… shelved for an uncharacteristic mistake to be left here amongst plants and scattered animal sounds, a temporary solace that would be ripped away when something new came through the chain of command; an overabundance of the very things he would care to think less about.

König hasn’t seen another person in days, not out here, tracking a vehicle carrying supposed smuggled weapons. There are no tire tracks, not even air traffic passing above: only gloom, loneliness, and the chill of early spring.

Then the abandoned house, where he takes refuge. It’s dated: the furniture all in various states of disarray, shattered porcelain about the kitchen and vaulted ceilings so high he doesn’t even need to bother with ducking to cross from room to room. It’s old on the exterior, stately, with vines creeping up its walls to reach the warmest height to bloom. Though internally, it is clear the place has not been left to rot for long: no loose boards, no holes in the ceiling or floor, just seemingly preserved somehow, as though time itself had come to still.

He doesn’t mind the daily patrols through the forest, the pensive stalking and creeping to find any hint of what he was after. Even through the night, when sleep forgets to lure him in for warmth and comfort amidst the pollen and silence, the walking never seems to grate on him.

There are lights, often, amongst the trees, faint pulses of glowing white that dissipate the moment his gaze sweeps over them. He’s read the fairytales as a child, even witnessed Conor get so drunk once that he shared his own tales of the ‘wee folk’, but König would feel a fool to believe any of that at face value. Most of his own kind were not interested in him, shying away with laughter or pitying gazes the moment he approached, so why would anything else be drawn to a man who could never quite scrub the blood from his fingernails or keep a conversation from spinning out into silence and uneasy glances?

It’s during one of these nightly walks that he first sees her, a vision bathed beneath the milky glow of the moon, ethereal, yet still nothing short of a proper blessing from the earth. Despite the distance from his path to her own, her body looks soft, bare and gentle. The growing thorns and clusters of ivy do not scrape her, only gently pull aside as she walks, tender and swaying like the petals sprung up from the plants for little fingers ghost over.

He only thinks that, assuredly, he’s lost his mind. The vision fades away when she looks at him, curls her lips into a smile… and then it is all gone. She leaves not a trace, no footprints indented into the soil he knows he had only just watched her tread. The flowers he saw her pull into being have vanished, too. All that remains is a dulled aura of dread, a strange thing that he has not felt in years, if ever at all.

König does not think of the woman until she appears again, during the day amidst the leaves of a sprawling sycamore. She lies against the bark, body resting over a healthy branch where she sleeps in a position so demure it sets his heart ablaze. The breeze caresses her hair, something he wishes to feel beneath his own fingertips; it whistles over her bare skin while the sun bathes her in rays of gold, filtered out through pinprick partings in the leaves, begs, pleads for him to touch. Forbidden fruit, too lofty to touch, too dainty for ash and blood.

He only walks away, carries on with the focus of his mission, reminds himself of every time that he’s sought some semblance of companionship and how those escapades had all simmered down to nothing but taunting echoes for sleepless nights. There was no need for any more ghosts, not even the pretty ones.

With nothing else in sight, he returns to that house where time halts and loses himself to want; swallows dry when he frees himself of his buckle and pulls out his growing erection. A release and an expelling of memory all in one.

He thinks of her, of her graceful walk amidst the darkened woods, of the way she lay, perfectly unscathed and beautiful, unknowing of any thing that plagues him, scatters from his grim expression right down to his very marrow. The imaginings… he would never speak of them, perhaps would only have the information pried from him that he thought of her smile when he spilled himself into his palm, but only if she came to beg for it with a voice he imagines must be tree sticky and sweet like warmed honey. Only if she came for him.

There lies a meadow just past an abrupt opening in the tree line, small and subdued by outstretched branches that curl over the grass and wildflowers still yet to bloom. No chill lingers here, as though summer stretches over the little glade and settles atop it with its warmth, masks even the little pond that does not seem to carry the same frosted panes of ice that the others he had seen do. There is fruit, puny red berries and hefty pears causing their limbs to bend, gently set them down for the earth and all of the animals roaming about to eat.

And he knows he’s stumbled upon her home.

He finds his voice when she peeks at him from behind the trunk, wide-eyed and curious with the softest curl about her lips, playful but tentative.

“Hallo,” he whispers, raising his gloved hand as if to wave, but curling his fingers into his palm instead. He’s horribly uncertain, caught between the alarming thought that he’s dealing with some perturbing nudist or something… else entirely.

“Hello,” she says, almost shy as she unveils herself from behind the tree, takes a step toward him with a tender look in her eyes and a long draw of breath. Sets his nerves at ease with her silent admittance that she, too, at least seemed wary.

König immediately tells her why he’s here, not in full detail, sparing the poor doe the tedium and the confidential bits that would likely only make her head spin, and then… he mentions how he had seen her, how the forest seemed to yield to her whims, her dancing beneath the moon that appeared to shine only for her. He gives her a curious look, undetectable beneath the darkened hood, pleads for her to explain in his own silent sort of way.

“I have seen you too,” she says instead, curling her arms behind her back, pushing out her chest, and… he doesn’t think to ask any further.

She’s the loveliest thing that he has ever seen or felt: places herself right into his lap when she guides him down to the grass. There’s sap on her fingertips when she presses them to his lips, curiously grazing them over his mouth as he speaks to her about the forest, a forest he’s already deemed to be her own, obscure princess that she was. She giggles when he dares to lick over each intruding digit, even gives a shaky, soft sigh when he suckles at one.

The nymph whispers things into his ear that he’s never heard before: things about each sprouting plant, of other things that hide away in the shade beneath branches and how they had all seen him too, about the earth and life and softer secrets about her beloved tree. Home and love without ever daring to speak words so simple. She does not ask about the dreadful things he does not think about, only lies back in the grass when he praises her beauty and the lovely notes of her voice.

He thinks for a moment that he should not touch her, should not have her grace wasted on something like him, but she rises up only enough to kiss him through the hood and he finds himself tugged down to tickling blades of grass and his mind finally does quiet.

She cradles him close as he claims her love for his own, steals sap from her lips and follows her sighs to a comforting oblivion. Her hands find his neck, his shoulders to offer gentle touches, tracing patterns like the intricate twisting of vines against his flesh all while he praises their union, her sweetness.

He doesn’t know how long he’s spent with her, the day seems to to stretch on for an eternity with the sun high above, but when he wakes… he is back inside of the old, quiet house, lying in the bed he knows with a certainty that he’s never even touched. Fender’s voice is calling to him over the radio, clipped and demanding for a report, one that proves nothing at all, a barrage of words filled with wonder and bliss with no intel on the mission.

And König isn’t shocked by the leave he’s given once he does return to base the following day. Three weeks time would be just enough to clear his head, regain his focus, pull money from his account to purchase that lonesome old house in the forest. He couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing such an angel again, never hearing the soft chittering of her voice or being blessed with the feeling of her beneath him, intertwined like the vines she so loved.

#könig x reader

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spicyyy-muffin · 2 years

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Emberred Dreams

Warnings Death, torture, blood, gore, she has a nightmare disorder, talks of ptsd and other mental disorders, smoking cigarettes, friends with untold feelings arch.

Ghost x F!Reader

Reader has night terrors, and ghost likes midnight cigarette breaks.

Having night terrors every night wasn't anything new. This life wasn't easy, but it was the one I chose. Not every mission was successful and those ones especially had a hard time leaving my subconscious.

After my first failed mission I learned quickly I couldn't sleep in the same room as my team. The nights I didn't wake myself up screaming, others did.

There was no mental health advocate patting me on the back after witnessing hundreds of innocent's bloody death. And if there was, I probably would have nothing to do with them.

Being vulnerable was a sign of weakness, and everyday was an example that weakness got you killed.

The other guys in 141 were very stoic, never talking about their feelings, never shedding a tear. It was an unspoken rule.

But getting stuck in a warehouse 20 miles from base, meant we were forced to lay low. And that we all had to camp out in the biggest room, one of us staying awake to watch.

Soap laid an extra shirt on the old wooden floors. "I can go first, give you guys the chance to rest."

I spat my sunflower seeds in an empty tin can. "Nah its cool, I can take first watch Soap." Ghost's eyes met mine across the room. With three other highly intelligent men in this room how long would it take before they figured me out?

"Okay."

Ghost, Soap and James lay still on the ground. Even with the constant checks, and knowing we were safe. My thoughts were running at a pace I couldn't peel back.

There was only so long I could stay awake. And the last time I fell asleep around someone, I ended up in the clinic the next morning with an evaluation on whether or not I was capable of being in the field.

There was no way I was going to be sent home because of my stupid nightmares.

Three hours.

I was surveilling the front yard through a small break in the curtain when a hand brushed my shoulder.

"I can take over, get some sleep."

I shook my head at the masked man. "No I'm okay, go back to bed."

His eyes shot between mine and the makeshift bed on the floor. "We have to be awake in a few hours, don't try and be tough, get some sleep sergeant."

I huffed out a quick breath, "I said I'm fine ghost. Go back to bed."

"I wasn't asking."

I propped the rifle against the wall not making eye contact with the stubborn man and turning towards the place he just laid sleeping.

I couldn't put something in my mouth that would be weird. Covering my face wouldn't help. Sleeping on my stomach didn't mask the noise either.

But the exhaustion seeping through my blood wasn't enough to make me stand for the next four hours.

I laid down, putting my mouth in the crook of my elbow. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I knew he wouldn't ask.

I woke up to cold metal gliding across my thigh. Opening my eyes a man with a dark beard and familiar eyes met me. "Goodmorning sunshine." His mouth moved into a sly grin.

Bringing my arms up to my chest to grab a hidden knife, I noticed the rough rope holding them together. My eyes darted across the room, and the sight made me instantly nauseous.

Soap's throat was ripped out, esophagus on the other side of the room. And ghost.. The man with whom I never told.

Why did I never tell him? A sob was ripped from my chest, "Simon?"

"Dead." The man stood from crouched knees but my eyes didn't leave the blood stained mask of the man I loved.

"It's a shame really. But maybe if you weren't so pathetic and fell asleep they would still be alive."

My vision blurred, tears tickling down my face in their wake.

"He asked me to spare you, take him instead. How heroic?"

He slammed his jagged knife into the plush of my thigh. I cried out. For the physical pain or emotional I wasn't sure.

Ghost's body moved. Eyes blinking open, immidiently my assailant's eyes shot to him.

"Well what do we have here?" He ripped the knife out of me walking over to him.

"Y/n?" Ghost blinked his eyes open, bloodshot using a free hand to grab his head.

"Tch tch tch, young love. How cute." His gun lifted ghost's head up further.

"What a shame it must end."

He cocked his gun pointing it at his temple, my scream's bursting my ear drums.

My body shook. Someone's hands on me pulling me back and forth. "No! Please-" I sobbed thrashing around trying to pull my hands free.

"Ghost! NO! Ghost please-"I shook my head squeezing my eyes shut forcing more tears down my cheeks.

"Wake up darling, please open your eyes."

My eyes shot open, I flew up gripping my knees looking around the room at the three men staring at me with guns in hands ready to attack.

Ghost was the closest, bent over, arms still out. He was the one who woke me up.

I shook my head, grabbing a pack of smokes and a lighter. Fuck I needed some air.

The cold air spoke wonders for wiping the guilt from my conscious.

The wooden stairs creaked under my weight, and again when a second body joined.

We sat in silence for a few minutes until he broke it. "Wanna talk about it?"

I passed the cigarette to him.

"How much did you hear?" He inhaled.

"Not a lot."

I shot my glance to him but he stayed staring at the frosted embers.

"You're so full of shit." My mouth spread into a tiny smile as his shoulders shook from silent laughter.

"Don't report me please." His eyes shot to mine.

"You're dense aren't you sergant?"

He dropped the cigarette to the ground stepping on it before crouching down to my sat figure.

He stared at me before placing his cold hands on my cheeks wiping fresh tears I didn't know were there.

"What's the matter baby?"

I took his wrists in my hands.

"I have feelings for you, I have have feelings for you I need you to know that. Please, I just-" I shook my head, "I just need you to know that I'm so scared-" His lips paused my rambling his other hand sliding through the strands of my hair.

He pulled away resting his masked forehead on mine, I realized he must of pulled it up when I was word vomiting.

"I'm not going anywhere, and Im not gonna let anything happen to you."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, kissing me every once in a while. It wasn't until the sun met the horizon and I realized the lap I was curled up in just how long we had been outside.

He mouth was rested next to my ear, hands running down my arms. He took a shaky breath, "I can't say the words I want to. But I feel deeply for you, and I'm not sure anything can change that."

I turned my head placing my lips on his.

"I feel deeply for you too."

He smiled in the crown of my head.

"And if your lips are that pretty I'm not ready to see the rest of your face."

He peppered kisses along my cheek.

"You're cute but when this moment is over, you are gonna tell who that motherfucker was so I can put his severed hands in a display case."

Lmk what you think!

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crazydiscostu · 11 months

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Imilab EC3 Outdoor Camera

In this article, we will explore the IMILAB EC3 Lite Camera, the latest addition to their EC3 series, and discover how it can enhance your home security and bolster your already-powerful Smart Home experience! C’mon then! (Product supplied by IMILAB for review purposes) Imilab Established in April 2014, IMILAB has emerged as a leading supplier of smart home security solutions in China, with an…

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yanderambling · 1 year

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BRO just binged all ur stuff and i’m obsessed and i saw you take requests,,, so get this: hero from the yandere henchmen story is also yandere for villain reader O.O doesn’t have to be the same reader if u don’t want i just think it would be fun lolol

ahhh i'm so glad to hear that, and this is such a good idea!! this one's a bit short because i'm low on writing inspo and also energy :( but you can always request again if you'd like more ~

concept: Hero!Yandere(gn) x Villain!Reader(gn)

words: ~700

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, violence, masochism, very suggestive, short and not well proofed :)

Emyr is certain that their feelings for you are completely casual and appropriate.

Of course they get worked up over you, you're their nemesis!

It's normal for a hero to have a nemesis, to focus on one villain above all the others (even in the event that the villain has been radio silent for over a week while countless others wreak havoc on the city, even if they have to ignore all their friends constantly signaling them for backup against said villains; you're planning something, they know it, and it's their responsibility to be ready to stop you!)

And it's normal for a hero to get violently upset when they discover another hero had an encounter with that nemesis.

Just like it's completely normal for a hero to accidentally leave their friend totally vulnerable in deadly combat just days after that discovery.

They're dedicated to taking down a particularly dangerous evildoer, and people make mistakes in the heat of battles; this is all normal.

They don't think it's wrong to get so excited when their call signal goes off (one they had made specifically for calls about you), they're just passionate about stopping evil!

They don't think it's wrong to feel a shiver of anticipation tingle up their spine on the occasions you get the upper hand in battle (it's a stressful situation!), and they chalk it up to temporary shock when they find themself frozen, helpless to stop your weapons (or, god, hands) from tearing into them.

They don't think it's wrong to feel their heart race at the very thought of you, to hear the blood pounding in their ears every time they picture your manic smile or your sweaty, feral form- of course memories of their enemy will spike their adrenaline!

They don't think it's wrong to collect the odd weapons you sometimes forget after fights, to hold them tight in their hands and feel the residual warmth of your skin, to imagine how you might use each one on them, (to use them on themself and picture your disgust at the pleasure they derive from it...).

It's just important to know your enemy, is all.

It's not strange that they spend most nights skulking around your lair, using their super-vision to watch you go about your business through the thick walls, using their enhanced hearing to pick up every shift of your skin against your clothing (god how do you look even more ethereal in your casual clothes?); it's just routine surveillance!

And it's not strange that they set up multiple cameras (hidden with great effort) to catch glimpses inside when they can't be there.

(And it's not strange that they collect all their footage at the end of each day and splice together every shot where you're even slightly indecent, that they watch these perverted montages to get themself off every night, that they constantly have to wipe drool and spunk off their monitor just to catch another glimpse of your sinful body.)

It's not wrong that you occupy their thoughts every second of the day, waking or otherwise.

It's not wrong that they fall asleep every night to the memory of your vicious smirk looming over them in the wake of a rare defeat- in fact, it's motivating to recall past failure, to figure out where they went awry so they never fall into that position again (with your strong legs straddling their body, every muscle tensed against them, your wild eyes locking their gaze to yours as you both pant with exertion, a blade pressed to their throat just enough for them to feel beads of blood trickle down their neck- the only thing saving them from the pressure on their throat and crotch alike being a vigilante group arriving and causing you to make a "strategic retreat").

It's also not wrong that they keep fiddling with the wounds you've given them, pulling and scratching and reopening them again and again until they scar, because they do it for the reminder.

So they can stop it from happening again.

Definitely not so they can pretend it's your fingers digging into their skin, that your sharp eyes are watching in disdain as they moan at the stinging pain, that your cruel smile is hanging over them mockingly while they get worked up over so very little, that you've finally gotten the better of them for good and intend to use them mercilessly for your own desires...

Definitely not that.

...

So, basically, in conclusion: Emyr is completely normal about you.

And will forever continue to be.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #sub yandere #dom reader #superhero yandere #hero yandere #gn yandere #supervillain reader #villain reader #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Fandom: Night Hunter

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: For @enchantedbytomandhenry; You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Warnings: enemies to lovers trope (not sure if I nailed it though), unprotected p-in-v, creampie, Daddy kink, male tackling female to subdue (if that squicks you, maybe skip this one-it is quick but described)

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist

Oh, this is great. No, it’s perfect. Not only were you voluntold to work a weekend-long stakeout, but you’d also be paired with Detective Marshall. Yeah, that Detective Marshall. Walter. The asshole who you’ve been competing with for ‘top dog’ since before joining S.W.A.T. all those years ago.

He was always just ahead of you. Ran a mile half a minute quicker. Got promoted a month sooner. To top it all off, he was tall and drop-dead gorgeous. And he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off.

Wait, hold on. When did that become something you even cared about?

The way he cockily smiles at you as he exits his truck in the parking lot of the motel is enough to have you clench your thighs together. This should be a fun weekend.

Friday night into Saturday morning is spent quietly using the listening devices to monitor our suspect. You both just…sit there, using your ears. Walter is usually quiet, sure. But what human doesn’t even accidentally use small talk to fill a quiet space?

During the day, you try and sleep in your separate room but it proves to be difficult. You toss and turn, grumbling to yourself after a couple of hours. Visions of Marshall’s chiseled jawline, beefy arms, and thick thighs are burned in your mind. You abandon all hope of sleeping, spending the rest of the day disassembling and cleaning your sidearm. It keeps your mind sharp and you genuinely enjoy the process.

It’s nearing seven and you’re just getting your things together to head over to the surveillance room when you get a knock at the door. You peek through the curtains and see Marshall as he leans on the doorframe.

You open the door and look expectantly at him. When he doesn’t answer and barges into the room past you, you pipe up, “Come on in, why don’t you?” You close the door behind you and watch as he looks around the room.

He notices your gun cleaning kit on the small wooden table by the window and looks back at you. “You didn’t sleep today. You look like shit.”

“Awesome. Thank you. What do you want?” you snap, already sick of his annoyingly perfect face.

“Go home and get some sleep,” he crosses his arms, standing in front of you, “Got the B team coming in to take over.”

“So, we’re both leaving? Or are you just dismissing me?” you questioned, crossing your own arms.

“Just you,” he deadpans, not feeling the need to explain himself further.

“Well, fuck that. I’m not leaving, so if you’ll excuse me,” you fumed, moving to reach for your sidearm on the table as he moves over, holding a hand out between the table and yourself.

“I can’t let you take that with so little sleep. It’s dangerous for both of us. Trust me, one slip up, and one of us is down,” he warns, holding his ground.

“Marshall, get out of my way. We have a job to do.”

“No, I have a job to do. You’re off the clock. Go home, kid,” he urged, holding his position.

“You’re gonna have to take me out of this mission by force, Marshall. Otherwise, I’m-”

You did not get to finish that sentence before Walter was taking you down on your stomach. A strong arm fully extended holding your left shoulder, while your right wrist is being restrained, would have been enough. But, this was Marshall after all and if he was anything, he was thorough. He straddles your hips, with just enough pressure to keep you down, but not enough to scratch a certain itch.

“I didn’t wanna have to do that,” Walter breathes, winded slightly from the takedown, “but you gave me no choice.”

“Marshall, get the fuck off of me,” you growl, trying to buck him off.

“Yeah, kid, that’s not happening,” he spits, hooking his ankles over your thighs, “You’re lucky I don’t cuff you to keep you down.”

“So, what? You just looking for a reason to get me to obey you?” you challenge, struggling under his weight.

“As if you needed an excuse,” he laughs, straightening himself above you.

“Please! If you honestly think-”

“Give it a rest, I can smell your arousal from here,” he teased, lowering his hips a fraction and watching your squirm, “And before you say it’s not because of me, why couldn’t I smell it until after I had taken you down?”

“Fuck you, Marshall,” you scoff, trying to hold some semblance of control.

“Yeah, maybe if you did, you could get some fucking sleep,” he offers, his left hand moving from your shoulder down your arm, “But here you are, stubborn as hell.”

You lick your lips, considering his words. You wanted to get some release. You also wanted to sleep.

Fuck it.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” he queries, slowly starting to release your arms.

“I’m exhausted and I’m horny. But you’re doing all of the work, Marshall,” you say, lifting your hips to meet his crotch.

“That’s a good girl,” he hummed, releasing your arms before leaning up and off of you. You start to raise yourself before you are lifted and all but thrown on the bed and told to strip. Watching as his layers are quickly being shed, you all but rip away your clothing.

Once fully naked, you look at Marshall where he stands watching you. Cock in hand, he pumps his massive length slowly while his eyes rake over you. “Tell me what you need,” he coaxed, his voice lower by at least an octave.

“Hurry the fuck up and put me to bed, Marshall, before I change my mind,” you threaten, your body thrumming under his gaze.

“You can change your mind at any time, you just say the word and this is over, yeah?” he informs, eyes connecting with yours.

“Heard,” you chime in, opening your legs for him.

He kneels on the bed between your legs, reaching down to collect some of your wetness that glistens in the low light of the motel room. He lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers before plunging them inside you. “Fuck, girl, you are so wet for me. So fucking hot,” he moans, squelching sounds filling the room as he massages your inner bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Daddy!” you squealed, completely out of your control.

“That’s it, girl, cum for me,” he goaded, his thumb moving to play with your swollen button.

It doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar tightening in your core, and Marshall must be the World’s Greatest Detective™ because he is pulling out his fingers and thrusting his cock inside your wet heat. Fucking you through your orgasm, your tight walls fluttering around him causing him to groan loudly.

“That’s one, let’s see if we can’t get you another, yeah?” he teases, melding your chests together as he wraps his arms around your center. From this angle, he can stimulate your clit while stroking deeply. And he does so at a punishing pace, his teeth nipping and kissing your neck. “Fuck, we shoulda done this years ago, girl. This pussy is fucking made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mewl, that time was completely on purpose.

Marshall leans up, leaving one arm around you while the other hand goes to your hair, baring your neck. “Who’s pussy is this, girl?” he challenges, even though he already knows.

“It’s yours, Daddy,” you whine, legs wrapping around his hips.

“That’s fucking right, it’s mine,” he praised, hips pistoning into you, “And I’m gonna ruin you for everyone else. You’re mine, girl.”

His growled claim of you paired with the way he fucks into you has your legs trembling around him instantly, your second orgasm of the night flowing through you.

“Hmmm, that’s my girl, taking Daddy’s cock so well,” he groans, the sound vibrating through the both of you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you moan, squeezing your thighs around Marshall, “I love your fucking cock.”

“That’s right you love this cock,” he growls, pulling out and manhandling you onto all fours, “Put Daddy’s cock back in, girl.”

You reach back and line him up, pushing back to impale yourself before moaning out at the angle change. Marshall grips your hips, plowing into you, no doubt chasing his own release now.

“Fucking cum inside me, Daddy,” you whimper, loving the sounds coming from your sodden cunt as it is pounded.

“I’m gonna breed this perfect pussy,” he grunts, hips stuttering until he pushes in as deep as can, cock twitching and painting your insides so full that it starts to leak past your entrance. He pulls out slightly before starting to fuck his cum back inside you. The sensation alone has your pussy quivering around him for the third time before you fall forward on your front.

Marshall laughs as he gets up from the bed, going to the en suite bathroom. You can hear him taking a piss and you know that you should as well to combat any chance of a UTI. But your legs aren’t listening yet so fuck that idea.

Your eyes are already closed when you feel a wet warmth between your legs as Marshall is wiping down your swollen sex gently before you snuggle into the comforter being wrapped around you. A kiss is placed on your temple and soon you hear the rustling of clothes being put back on.

The sound of your motel room door opening and closing barely registers as you fall asleep.

It is sometime later in the evening and you check your phone on the nightstand as it reads 12:12 AM. No need to make a wish.

You take a quick shower and get dressed before heading over to the surveillance room. You are stopped outside of the room by a uniformed officer. “Detective Marshall asked me to keep you out. And he wanted me to give you this. That’s all I know, Ma’am.” The officer hands over a note and you step away and read it.

Hey,

I was serious about you getting some sleep.

Get that ass back to bed.

Daddy will see you soon, girl.

Sweet dreams xx

A/N: So, like I don’t know how I feel about how I wrote Walter here. This is not MY Walter, but I quite enjoyed this version of him.

**Tag List**

@astheskycries

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #ellethespaceunicorn request fill #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill

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cfcastellanos-blog · 10 months

Video

youtube

https://amzn.to/3QpeGJX Infrared Binoculars with Camera

#youtube #Night Vision Binoculars 2. Bush Tech Binoculars 3. Military-Grade Optics 4. Infrared Binoculars 5. Hunting Gear 6. Surveillance Equipment 7.

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sintechcctv · 1 year

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homelanderbutbig · 3 months

Text

The Only Person Who Matters To Me (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1105 words. Hurt/comfort, and some fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You're late and Homelander is worried. Chaos ensues.

You were supposed to meet Homelander at the movie set an hour ago. Although he wanted to fly you to the set himself, you had another meeting to attend to beforehand. To calm his nerves, he gave Ashley one simple task: to ensure you arrived on time.

However, there has been no word on your whereabouts. You have all but disappeared from Vought's surveillance, and Homelander is one stray spark away from short circuiting.

"Where are they, Ashley?" he growls, his voice no longer hiding his growing anger.

"I-I don't know sir! They should be here soon!" Ashley stutters, doing her best to keep this problem under control. "They aren't answering their phone, b-but I'm sure they-"

"Where. The. Fuck. Are. They?" he snarls, cutting off Ashley's annoying yammering. He walks in front of her, arms crossed behind his back, looming over her with his foreboding height. It's moments like this that he is appreciative of his stature, to be able to put the fear of god into these pathetic mudpeople so easily.

"I-I can have the city combed for their location, sir!" she trembles, backed up against a wall. Her heart is beating out of her chest, a fact she knows Homelander is fully aware of.

Feeling his face twitch, Homelander shuts his eyes as he furrows his brow. Every excuse Ashley utters for her incompetence only serves to push him closer to the edge.

"M-maybe they'll turn up soon!" she stammers, with one last attempt to salvage the situation.

But it doesn't work. That is it. That is the final straw.

His eyes open to reveal his crimson lasers pointed squarely at Ashley's head. Her screams fall deaf to his ears, he no longer cares to hear her flimsy pleas. All he cares about now is decapitating her, and tearing the city apart to find you.

Suddenly, the rage in Homelander's expression melts away he hears familiar footsteps entering the set. His lasers dissipate before he turns around to see your face grinning up at him.

"Sorry I'm so late!" you call cheerfully, waving at him. "I got stuck in traffic, and my phone died so I couldn't call Ashley and explain what was happening! Stupid me, I thought I charged it last night!"

He strolls quickly over to you while you ramble on about your reasons for being delayed, his large frame taking up your entire vision. It doesn't even matter to him what you're saying; nobody else on the set matters anymore. All of their stupid terror has been pushed out of his mind. He's just relieved to see you.

"I hope I didn't worry you," you remark, shooting him a concerned glance. Although Homelander is smiling down at you, there is a tenseness in his mannerisms that is obvious to yourself, as much as he thinks he is hiding it from everyone else.

He bends down on one knee to be at your eye-level, an act he reserves solely for you. Anyone else wouldn't be worthy to speak to him at his level. Gently, he pulls you in for a hug, keeping his eyes closed as he feels tears begin to form. His emotions are beginning to get the better of him.

"Do you want to go to your trailer, hun?" you ask him, returning his tight embrace. Without any hesitation he nods at your question, taking in a deep breath to try and regain some of his composure. He does his best not to look into your eyes; he knows he is one glimpse away from letting his tears overwhelm him.

Wrapping his arms around you snuggly at his chest, he stands back up to his full height and starts moving swiftly back to his trailer. It sticks out like a sore thumb on the movie set, having had to be custom built to accommodate Homelander's height and weight. With one motion of his hand, he opens and shuts the door behind him, locking it to avoid any further annoyances.

The second he knows the two of you are alone, he finally lets his torrent of emotions burst. He cries into the crook of your neck as he thumbs your hair with the hand he's using to hold your head. It's a little thing you notice he tends to do when he's stressed, like touching your hair is a self-soothing mechanism.

"Can you sit down on the couch for me, sweetie?" you ask him, combing your fingers through the back of his head. Again, he wordlessly follows your request and plops himself down onto the center cushion of the couch. He leans himself back, resting you in his lap but never releasing you from his grasp. He can't let you go right now; he needs to know you're not going anywhere.

"I'm so sorry baby boy," you console him, rubbing your head into Homelander's cheek. You hate seeing him like this, especially over something that could have been easily avoided. "I really had you worried, didn't I?"

When he's in this state, he finds it so hard to get the words out of his head. Instead, he simply nods at your question while returning your nuzzle.

All of a sudden, Homelander's expression turns sour. His eyes gaze over to the trailer walls, using his X-ray vision to stare at the workers on the set. Thankfully, even though you don't have any super powers, you have gotten to know his tics well enough to understand what has abruptly bothered him.

"You hear them talking outside, huh?" you inquire. He nods, turning his eyes back down to his feet. "Are they talking about you?" you push, waiting for him to nod again.

"It's okay, you know," you reassure him, giving him a scratch along his undercut. "We'll reschedule today's shoot for another day. You're the only person who matters to me right now. The shoot can wait."

Your words are like honey to his ears. To hear someone stick up for him like you do, he wishes he could bottle you up and take you with him everywhere.

"…L-love… l-love you…" Homelander mumbles, in a voice so quiet you wouldn't believe it had come from such a giant of a man.

"I love you too big guy," you reply, moving your head to give him a kiss on the cheek before resuming your head scratches. You can feel the last of his tension finally melting away as he nuzzles himself into your precious fingers, becoming immersed in your touch.

From that day on, you made sure you always kept your phone charged before you left the penthouse.

And always Homelander double-checked.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing

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a-pretty-nerd · 11 months

Text

THE MEDIUM AND THE DETECTIVE

On another episode of: "STFU, I don't care that the Fandom's DEAD! YOU CAN'T STOP ME!"

A Deathe Note L x Reader x Matsuda Angst Fic!

Summary: You're a suspect for predicting the Kira case, but can you predict this dick-

Warnings: SAD. Gender neutral, but, there is a preggers trope. You see dead people in this one. Happy ending!!!

The first encounter with L was traumatic to say the least. Being a suspect in the Kira case, L was thorough. When your best selling thriller novel eerily predicts the Kira murders, you're naturally his first suspect in the case. But as his investigation continues he unfolds an even more unsettling truth.

A series of prophetic dreams drove you to write the suspensious book. And the dreams you are currently having continue to predict the murders before they happen. But because you're under 24hr surveillance, L comes to the conclusion that you are not Kira. But your spars visions of the future have been genuinely helpful and fascinating. So L keeps you around.

A curious friendship grows, and a budding romance between the two blossoms. You and L settle into a secret affair throughout the Kira Investigation as your dreams becomes more vivid and frightening. Your dreams often predict major events, even L's death, but certain pieces are missing. Like Kira has something protecting him from being seen.. As the murders continue, you become haunted by Kira's victims as they seek revenge for their deaths.

Matsuda has often acted as a friend. The golden retriever you can count on. The one that always greets you with a smile and gets you a cup of coffee. L would watch the two of you be friendly and even he could not deny the two of you had chemistry. He thinks someone like Matsuda would be good for someone like you. He'd certainly take care of you. You'd probably be better off- but.... L is selfish and jealous inside.

L wants you all to himself. He delights in having moments alone with you, though they are few and far in-between. Hell, Watari is the only living soul who knows about the two of you. So intimacy is truly rare, but that often makes it that much more passionate when you do get the chance. Depending on his mood and how tired her is, L can range from a dedicated lover to a frenzied lover. Pattern recognition is an important skill he's very experienced with.

Time passes and your situation changes. You become more of a paranormal consultant on the Kira case. Which, often comes in handy for L when he's trying piece things together. Your outside insight is be very helpful to him. But unfortunately for you, the longer the case continues, the worse your experiences get. Your nightmares become full on night terrors that you become stuck in. Matsuda has had to shake you from a few.

L sees the change in you before you do. He notices a change in smell first. You don't smell the same. Not bad. Just different. Then he notices how your appetite has changed. He sees the nausea in your face before you can even voice a complaint. L suggests a stomach bug first, keeping his suspicions to himself. So he has you see a doctor. A doctor who promptly informs you that you are....well...you know...in the family way.

When you return with glazed over and fatigued eyes, L's theory is confirmed. He looks at it very objectivly at first. He prepares for every possibility before he even starts the conversation. Regardless of your options, he makes preparations for each. He waits patiently for you to tell him on your own time, when you're comfortable. He doesn't take you trying to hide it as an insult, more than anything he feels himself becoming more and more nervous that you haven't told him. He comforts himself with the idea that you probably just haven't figured out what to do yet, so you're waiting to talk to him before you make a decision.

You tell him when you're alone. L doesn't move a muscle. He freezes. He expected this but the longer you waited the more he had to grapple with the idea of becoming a parent. Which is something L never expected himself to be dealing with. Especially not smack-dab in the middle of the most dangerous and intense cases of his life. So, he kind of panics. The conversation is deadpan as expected. For the most part he's honest about his feelings towards it. He honestly doesn't think keeping it isn't good idea, but he's well aware that isn't his choice. His voice is sweet when he says, "no matter what happens, I will ensure you are taken care of. No one will hurt you."

It isn't until he sees the first ultrasound that he kind of changes his tune. He stares at the picture, fascinated by it. When you ask about it, he says, "Watching something grow from nothing is indescribable." A very L answer. As much as he wants you to remain by his side. As much as he wants you, he knows it's only a matter of time. He knows that the longer you remain at headquarters, the higher the risk. If Light hasn't already put the pieces together, he knows he soon will. And as much as the evidence has proven his "innocence" he doesn't trust Light with a damn thing.

To rub salt in the wound, the longer you stay by his side, the worse your paranormal experiences become. You've been unable to sleep, you can't handle being alone or in the dark for very long. The ghosts of Kira's victims whisper in your ears and claw at your clothes. The more violent ones scream and shout whenever they get the chance. It's taking a toll on you. Everyone fears for your well-being. Matsuda and L especially. So when L finally sends you away, you understand. You're not happy about it in the least. But L is prepared to use force if he has to. He will not be letting you die. You're already at the end of your rope and if something were to happen to you, he'd never be able to forgive himself.

So you're sent back to your family with a large sum in your bank account. Child support in advance, if you will. The ghosts leave you be, and the nightmares ease up. The ones you do have are of L. And it's the same dream. Everytime it's his death. You did everything you could to prevent it and still your dreams are relentless. You've told L his fate before and he always regarded it with the same interest as every other dream, like it was nothing special. You would try to contact L but he made sure you would have no way to reach him.

The only person who is allowed to contact you besides himself, which he doesn't anyways, is Matsuda or Watari. Watari calls on occasion pretending to be your doctor. He asks questions about your condition, your medical records, your paranormal experiences. You assume he's doing this to keep L up to date on your current status. When you ask why L does not call himself, Watari tells you that he's busy, but he sends his regards.

Matsuda calls every couple of days. He's only allowed to call when he's alone and he's not allowed to share information on the Kira case for obvious reasons. But he's more interested in how you're doing anyways. He asks you about what you've been up to, how you and your family are doing. If you have any plans for a new novel. He's been a fan of your work since before the investigation began. He's a breath of fresh air. You look forward to his calls.

Suddenly the calls stop for a while. There's a deep pit in your stomach one morning as you look outside your bedroom window. There's a faint sound of ringing that you can't shake. So you go on with your day, trying to regain your sense of normalcy. Failing miserably when sometime in the afternoon you feel a great loss. That night as you lay in bed, pretending to sleep in hopes that dreams will creep in anyways, you feel a presence.

A familiar figure stands at the foot of your bed, watching. You know who it is right away. You can practically see him even with your eyes closed. The scent of coffee, vanilla, and paper follows him as quiet footsteps come to the other side of your bed. You're afraid that if you move or open your eyes he'll disappear. So you lay there as the blankets are pulled up and he crawls into bed with you. Laying down behind you and wrapping his cold arms around to spoon you. You lay there in his ghostly embrace for a long while, just trying to memorize the feeling in hopes that it will never leave you. He leans in, cold lips pressed against your ear as he whispers. "I was right." And then he's gone.

Matsuda calls a few days later, crying. When he finally gets the words out to tell you what's happened, he's met with a cold: "I know. Thank you, Matsuda." He finds himself being comforted by you. He knew that you and L were close. He knew you were friends. But he had no idea the relationship you had, nor the evidence that has reached a healthy 6 months. He implores you to attend L's funeral but, you can't do that. Emotionally and physically it's out of the question. Light is Kira. You know that. You've always known deep down, deep in your heart and so did L. After all, he was right.

Misa tries to contact you, you pick up the phone only to hear her voice. You hang up and change your number. Light tries to contact you, claiming its in regards to L and the Kira case. He wants to bring you back. You almost throw up right then and there. Instead, you hung up the call, close the phone, and smash it with a hammer. Matsuda is the only number you remember and the only person you trust. You don't trust him to know that Light is Kira. But you trust him to be good and kind. You trust him to visit you.

You pick him up at the airport when he comes out to visit you. You look so different he doesn't notice you. He passes right by you before you call out his name. You're visibly pregnant at this point, roughly 8 months. Your hair is longer and full. Your skin is glowing, your eyes are vibrant when they peak out from behind your sunglasses. You look nothing like the sickly, haunted spectator he knew you as. When he sees your belly, he just stares. He's speechless.

He's far too stunned for form a real sentence for about an hour as you drive him to his hotel. You laugh at him as he stares.

"It's good to see you too, Matsu." You joke with a smile. He goes red in the face.

"Uh- You look- You look great!" He croaks.

"Thanks."

"You're...um...are you-"

"Glowing? I am. Thank you for noticing." You tease him. It's good to have a friend close by again. He's not allowed to know where you're staying with your family, just to be safe. If Light were to ever decide to torture or kill Matsuda for information, you have to be sure. It's a risk even letting him see you like this. But you never win without taking a risk.

"So then you're...married?" He asks, a bit disappointed. You turn to him, your expression confused.

"What?? No. Do you see a ring on my finger?"

"Well no...I just...you're...uh-" You can see the gears turning in his head. Like he has all the pieces he just doesn't want to put them together. "How far along?"

"8 months? Give or take." You answer honestly. The pieces have been put together regardless. The puzzle is nearly complete, much to Matsuda's horror. It's L's. He knows it. There's no other option. Chief Yagami and Aizawa are out of the question. You've always hated Light from the moment you met. L...you were so close with L.

"Why didn't I see it before..." He mumbles to himself.

"You weren't supposed to. No one was supposed to know. No one is supposed to know." You tell him firmly. "This stays between you and me, Matsuda. I'm telling you this as my friend. In confidence that no one else on that task force will know about this. If no one else knows that L is dead, no one will know about this, understood?" Matsude nods in agreement as he pouts. He tries to apologize. He's overly emotional about the whole thing. Extraordinarily sympathetic to your situation, as he always is.

He's deeply worried about you and the baby. He's worried about you doing everything alone. You try to reassure him you have a family for support and a bank account that looks like a social security number thanks to L's estate. But still, Matsuda feels like he could be doing something to help you. You're his crush friend! He can't let you do all that alone. He knows L left you with everything you might need to be a single parent but...still...

"Marry me!" He blurts out one night.

"WHAT!?" You bark.

"Marry me! We'll be a family, you'll never have to worry about a thing. Let me take care of you!" He begs. You pause for a moment, it's as if you can hear L's voice in your ear. 'Matsuda's acting stupid again.'

"No! I'm not marrying you! Are you insane!? What good would that do me anyways? I'm taken care of as it is, I don't need you." Matsuda pouts but ultimately understands. He was out of pocket just asking you like that. He let his emotions get the better of then again. But he can't help it. He sees you alone like that and he just wants to take care of you. He wants to hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay. To comfort and love you.

He's at the airport when you call him. You've gone into labor. He's there for you before your own family is. The man booked it through the hospital looking for you. He's incredibly nervous seeing you in so much pain, but he's determined to support you. You're not sure why you called him. Why you wanted him there. It's not even his kid but...still...It probably has something to do with the long nights you spent waking up from night terrors. His arms around you, rubbing your back as you sob in terror. He makes you feel safe.

Matsuda is holding your hand when L's daughter is born around 3am on October 31st. Matsuda cuts the cord and he holds her first. He sits beside you in a chair as you rest and recover. He knows the baby isn't his but when he looks down at her, he feels his heart swell with pride and wonder. A part of him feels guilty for being there. L should be sitting where he is, holding his own child and being there to hold your hand. Tears fall from his eyes and onto the bundle beneath him.

As time passes, Matsuda keeps your whereabouts and your little family a secret. He visits, as often as he can. He lies to Light and the others about where he's going. And because it's Matsuda, the loveable idiot, Light doesn't suspect or even entertain the idea that he's lying to him. He watches as the child grows into a remarkable combination of you and L. She has his pirecing eyes that greet him when he walks into the front door of your home.

The little girl adores Matsuda. He's sweet and silly. He brings her toys and treats. She likes to sit on his shoulders and play with his hair. All things considered, he makes a good father.

Things are winding down to a disturbing close in the Kira case. The day before everything goes down, you have another dream. L is standing over his daughter's bed, watching her carefully. He turns to look at you. "I love you, very much. I'm sorry I've never said it before. You've done well with her and everything. But the case will soon be closed." In this dream he approaches you and holds you close in his arms again. "Goodbye."

You wake up to the sound of your daughter screaming a crying for you. You rush to her aid. The next few days pass with a defeaning silence. Matsuda doesn't call, which by now is irregular considering he calls almost once a day now. But by the end of that week, something lifts. Like sun has finally peaked through the clouds. A weight is lifted from your shoulders a you feel lighter than you have in years. You feel like you can breath.

Matsuda shows up unannounced in the dead of night. He looks exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes. His cheerful and bright nature stripped away from him. He shuffles into your home and starts to sob. You hold him close as he describes the horror he's been through. What Light did- What Matsuda did to him. This time, it's your turn to comfort him. He stays the night. Sleeping in your bed with you as you remind him he's safe and warm with you.

In the morning he feels better. Still depressed but, his smile returns when your daughter sees him sitting at the breakfast table.

"Are you having breakfast with us, Mat?" She asks as her little fists rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Is that okay with you?" He asks her. She shrugs and climbs up the chair to sit in front of him.

"I don't care. You could have every meal with us." She says as he eyes focus over the small plate of child-sized pancakes. Matsuda watches her with a loving gaze. If only he could. If only...

"You stay, if you wanted to." You say softly as you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You could stay."

#death note #death note lawliet #l #l lawliet #l x reader #lawliet x reader #matsuda x reader #L x reader x Matsuda #pregnancy trope #medium reader

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