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sayoneee · 4 months

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☆ AND I KNOW IT’S OVER (STILL I CLING)

percy jackson, who never seems to know when to quit, keeps coming back. (2.9k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of minor god! reader. post tlo (alt universe - everyone lives). book percy descriptions. apollo (derogatory).

kashaf’s note: book percy descriptions bc that was my first love. (sry if i get some of the words wrong, english isnt my first language pls be patient!!)

SUMMER BURNS. at camp half-blood, the scorching heat has dwindled to soft caresses, from the heat of the fire during sing-alongs where your cabin joins hands and toasts marshmallows to the cool breeze balming the sun’s glare at its zenith in the sprawling strawberry fields. at home, the scorching heat leaves marks — the biker with flames for pupils who clutched an openly bleeding wound as he thrust a first-aid kit at you, and the girl not much older than yourself with tears marring her face as she handed you a pregnancy test to ring up, avoiding your curious (sympathetic) gaze.

however, despite it all — you stand infallible, much like your grandfather’s part convenience store and part pharmacy, a poor man’s family heirloom.

you stand idly, flipping through an edition of seventeen when the rusty door swings open to admit a familiar face — with unruly black hair and an equally reckless grin (you know exactly who it is from the ba-dum of your heartbeat), the infamous son of poseidon (with the same smile as shawn hunter from boy meets world) is easily recognizable.

you glance at the crimson blooming around the crevices of his knuckles, tightly gripping a faded and worn-out skateboard, his scruffy converse squeaking across the tiled floor, raising an eyebrow as you coolly say, “band-aids are in the back, on the right.”

jackson laughs, an all-consuming sound (the wind-blown half-blood hill where apollo seemed to smile down at you, the laughter, like the memory, evanescent), “thanks, doc.”

you discreetly watch him perusing the aisles, before stopping in front of the ancient fridge — your grandfather’s store was something of an 80s pompeii with the peeling posters of back to the future and motley crue and the antiquated maroon and cream color scheme — and pulling out an arizona green tea.

when he finally goes to look for band-aids, you attempt to fix your attention back on the magazine in your hands, but like a moth driven to a flame, percy jackson was unbelievably hard to look away from (a magnet among mortals and immortals alike).

jackson’s hands are on his hips, his tupac t-shirt creasing, thick brows furrowed as he decides between different types of candy with the same intensity as a single mother with two children and a nine-to-five (even in the mortal world, there is something else entirely about him, something that made it so that you could never truly write him off).

when he approaches the register again, it’s hard not to look up and watch his ascent. when he finally does come to a stop in front of you, he looks the same as he did the last summer, though the tiny silver trident earring is new, the camp beads resting peacefully atop his collarbones aren’t.

you ring up his items: a box of band-aids, the arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks, looking away from him all the while.

“good to see ya, doc,” jackson says, a wry grin on his face, and his eyes are so green — as green as they were at twelve.

“it’s never good to see you, jackson,” you snark back, reciting his total, “four ninety-five, by the way.”

he laughs again (your heart goes ba-dum again), and hands you a five dollar bill, shoving his things into the seemingly bottomless pockets of his baggy jeans, with a salute on his way out (his turning back was a sight far more innocuous than the last time).

the next time jackson breaks whatever tacit agreement lies between the two of you, your hands are similarly stained. reds and purples line your palms, much like the burgundy seemingly permanently staining your grandmother’s fingertips; the culprit (the bowl of pomegranate seeds) sits innocently beside you.

“back again?” you say, glancing at the familiar scarlet stains adorning jackson’s hands (a familiar blue friendship bracelet sits on his wrist, edges frayed with five years of wear, and there’s a lump in your throat).

“why, did you miss me?” jackson asks, again with that wry grin of his, skateboard in hand.

“you’re the one who came back,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest, willing the constricting feeling to disappear.

“doc, i’m sorry to have to be the one that has to break this to you,” he sighs sympathetically, putting a bleeding hand over his heart, “but the sun doesn’t revolve around you.”

“actually, jackson, the sun kind of does revolve around me, ‘cause y’know apollo, the sun god apollo? my grandpa apollo? my grandpa, the sun god, apollo?”

“going by your logic, that would mean time revolves around me, ‘cause y’know kronos, the time titan kronos? my grandpa kronos? my grandpa, the time titan, kronos?” jackson says, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sets down another band-aid box, an arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks on the counter.

“y’know, if you cared this much, you might’ve passed greek,” you say, referring to the progress report cards you were handed at the end of summer.

he shrugged, handing you another five dollar bill, and proceeding to shove everything into his black holes of jean pockets, “yeah, well — wait, are those pomegranates?”

“yeah,” you say, “i peeled them myself — do you want some?”

(your father liked these, your grandmother had said earlier this afternoon, your mother liked to peel them for him, as i peeled them for her, and your grandfather.)

jackson suddenly looked bashful, fidgeting with the hem of his a tribe called quest t-shirt, “i’ve never had pomegranates before,” he confessed.

you blinked, taken aback, “you’re seventeen years old and you’ve never eaten a pomegranate before?” you pushed the china bowl toward him, “now you have to eat it.”

“my mom liked telling me the myths when i was younger,” he begins, setting down his skateboard, and reaching for the spoon before halting, like he was shocked, “she told me about persephone —”

“jackson,” you say, sardonically, leaning over the register to look him in the eye (there was always a storm brewing in his eyes), “i promise you, hades won’t come out of the ground and drag you to the underworld if you eat the pomegranate seeds i peeled.”

“i know what my next sleep paralysis demon is gonna be — thanks to you,” jackson says, looking down at the bowl and its floral blue pattern around the edges, playing with the spoon, and shifting the seeds from side to side.

“percy jackson, i swear to asclepius, you’re missing out on pomegranates,” you say, coming out from behind the register, and looking percy in the eye again, and there is something so earnest, so raw about your next sentence that his breath catches, “and, i swear on the styx, if hades does somehow come out of the ground to drag you down to the underworld, i’ll come down myself to drag you out, even if it’s tartarus.”

a rumble of thunder can be heard overhead despite the clear sky and scalding sun; percy blinks, before breaking out into a slow grin (your stomach seems to grow wings of its own, on the verge of flight.)

“invoking your dad, huh, doc? these pomegranates must be serious,” percy says, finally taking a bite — stepping around the bomb you just dropped.

you watch him intently, studying him as you studied tennyson and homer, “they are that serious.” there is something innocent about the way he eats, starved like every other teenage boy with black holes for stomachs.

“y’know, i can put that into a tupperware container and you can take it with you, right?” you offer.

“really?” percy asks through a mouthful of seeds, looking up from the bowl at you, “won’t you think i’ll steal it or something?”

“not really,” you shrugged, “i trust ms. jackson.”

percy nods solemnly — sally jackson is sally jackson after all, a queen among women, and an achilles of sorts, with her soft smile and steely eyes.

steeling your nerves, this is already the longest conversation you’ve had (ignoring the forever-ago late-night debriefs under a firmament of stars), you step up to the plate and take a swing, “how is she, by the way, haven’t seen her in a while.”

percy swallowed, eyebrows furrowing, “great — oh, wait, did i tell you she was seeing someone new now?”

“no way, really? good for her, honestly. i know, poseidon’s a god and all, but like, she’s always deserved just, so much more.” (you manage to make contact with the change-up thrown your way.)

there is something so sincere about your words, that percy can’t help but grin back, finally reaching the depths of his sea-green eyes, and there is something still so boyish about him, that you can hardly believe any time has passed at all, and that somewhere within this demigod who successfully defeated kronos, while saving luke, there is still a semblance of your percy.

“yeah, the guy, paul blofis, he’s an english teacher — absolutely worships the ground she walks on.”

“sounds perfect for her.”

“you should come over some time — see her, meet paul, y’know,” percy offers, still funneling spoonfuls of pomegranates, meeting your gaze head-on (this is the home run you were waiting on).

you grinned, a slow smile overtaking your face, pushing your hands in the pockets of your jeans, “might just take you up on that, before you change your mind.” (you’re leaving the ball in his hands now; it’s up to him to tag you out or let you reach home base safely.)

“nah, i won’t change my mind, unlike someone else i know.”

you ignore the jab (a smaller, suppressed part of you itches to shoot a reply back), instead choosing to focus on the hesitant hand of friendship being offered — as your father liked to say, keep moving forward.

you shrugged, and you swear, for a second you think the intensity of his gaze has lessened, almost as if disappointed. almost as if mentally shaking it off, percy hands you the china bowl back, empty, running a hand through his shaggy hair with a sheepish grin.

you smiled wryly, glancing down at the bowl and back to his face. “fatass,” you say, affectionately, and then almost freezing, wondering if you somehow overstepped the invisible lines constricting you.

percy laughs — a green light.

“lucky for you, though,” you say, disappearing behind the register for a moment before reappearing with a tupperware container filled with peeled pomegranates, “i peeled more.”

you hold it out to him, and he glances down at your outstretched hand, then at your face, before seemingly making up his mind, and accepting the olive branch, “you’re really committed to seeing my mom, huh?”

“well, obviously — the other alternative would be seeing you, wouldn’t it?”

“aw, c’mon, doc, i know you missed me,” percy says, a bit smug, picking up his skateboard, the tupperware container in his other hand (the one he still wears your bracelet on).

“in your dreams, jackson.” there is a peal of odd laughter in your voice as if you were unused to this kind of jocularity when fumbling over his name.

“in my dreams, we do more than just argue,” percy says, with one last smug smile and salute, before walking out the door, leaving you behind in the worst state of confusion you’ve possibly suffered (percy jackson: 1, you: 0).

(your grandmother admonishes you later that evening as you stand beside her stooped figure at your kitchen counter, peeling pomegranates, you gave the rest of it to that boy, didn’t you? her voice is not scolding, but you feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar once more. your immortal grandfather, the nuisance that he is, stands in the doorway, hands in an 80s leather jacket and matching sunglasses, waiting to be welcomed in. in contrast, his son — your father — brushes past him, grumbling, and takes on your grandmother’s burden.)

the analog clock reads ten fifty-five as you start mopping the floor, yawning when the front door swings open with a jingling bell, and a sharp metallic smell wafts into the store.

you whirl around, gripping the mop in your hand as a baseball bat, immediately alert as your demigod reflexes come into play. you physically relax at the sight of percy clutching his side, crimson pooling on the edges of his white t-shirt.

“of course you would attack a man when he’s injured,” percy says with a grin, blood dripping from a gash over his eye (luke had returned to camp some years ago, with a similar scar), and a split lip, collecting like rust on his t-shirt collar.

you scowled, dropping the mop and immediately rushing toward him, your healing instincts kicking in. lifting one of his arms and letting it curl around you, you shouldered him to the register, cringing with every audible wince percy let out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, as you sat him on your stool, reaching for the ambrosia and nectar you kept hidden under the counter for emergencies (one could never be too careful).

percy grinned — it came out more of a grimace, “what isn’t wrong with me — that’s the question you should be asking, doc.” he nodded to himself, and then immediately cringed at the action.

you glared at him, shoving an ambrosia square in his mouth, before turning away from him to put antiseptic on cotton pads. “does ms. jackson know you’re here?”

“no?” percy says. you walk over to the fridge, grab a water bottle, unscrew the cap, and drench the part of his t-shirt covered in blood.

“ow? in case you forgot, i’m still injured here, doc?” percy clutches at his side.

“you dumbfuck, your mom is probably worried out of her mind right now,” you say, scowling, stepping closer to percy (he still towers over you, even when sitting down).

“i iris messaged her,” he shrugs, looking at you as you shift even closer to him, cotton pad in your hand, “she just knows i’m with you — pretty relieved at that, dunno why.”

reaching out to grasp his jaw in your hand, you begin dabbing at the bruises on his cheekbones, his eyes fluttering shut as you try to ignore the way his hot breath is fanning across your face right now. “you didn’t tell her what happened?”

percy opened his eyes, staring at you. “no, how could i?” he says, slowly, “you were her favorite — still are, by the way.”

you don’t say anything for a moment — after all, how could you? (sally jackson’s homemade cookies drift to the front of your treacherous mind — the sunny afternoons with her kind voice, and percy’s loutish laughter.)

“you didn’t come to see her,” percy says, the statement not accusatory, his eyes fluttering shut again (you try not to let the way his eyelashes sit so prettily distract you) as you dab at the gash over his eye.

“i didn’t think i was welcome,” you say gruffly, turning away to grab bandages. “after everything.”

while the deeper wounds have eased into far easier, superficial ones, you still make sure to wrap and bandage everything — percy had a penchant for getting into trouble (one that you knew all too well), so it was the least you could do.

“i just told you that you were welcome, last time i was here, didn’t i?” percy says, an accusation.

“yeah, well, it was hardly an invitation was it?” you say, turning away from him, packing your supplies up.

“doc, you didn’t even come to take your tupperware back.”

you ignore him, moving to walk away when his hand is enclosed around your wrist (the hand that wears your blue friendship bracelet), tugging you around to face him.

percy’s standing up now, his green eyes looking more like a swirling storm with each passing second — he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, trying to snatch your hand back from him, to no avail — his grip is ironclad.

“i can’t let you walk away with your back turned to me again,” he says (the dim, lantern-lit night comes back into focus, and you wonder if you were too consumed by your own pride, if you had just turned around, if you had just stayed).

you realize too late that tears are pricking in the corners of your eyes, and you manage to successfully wrench your hand out of his grasp, a watery, sarcastic laugh escaping, “you’re a couple years too late, asshole.”

“i know that,” percy says, earnest, reaching out to cup your cheek, and wipe a stray tear (the action stuns you into paralysis), “but i miss you, and my mom misses you, and she hasn’t gotten off my case about you, yet.”

the thought of tender-hearted sally jackson scolding percy is an amusing one, and draws a laugh out of you against your will (percy’s smile grows a little brighter, and asclepius knows you’ve never been able to resist that smile of his), “i’ll come over for ms. jackson, not you.”

percy’s smile is even wider now (his hand is still ghosting your cheek), “same thing.”

“shut up,” you say swatting at his shoulder, trying to duck out from under his arms.

percy avoids your attempts to escape him, instead latching onto your hand, and pulling you out of the store. “c’mon, she’s expecting us for dinner.”

you let out an incredulous laugh, and let yourself be dragged out anyway (you would follow this boy anywhere, even to the depths of tartarus).

(your grandmother watches from the apartment window above the store, a soft smile gracing her lined features.)

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson one-shot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson x fem! reader #percy jackson oneshots #kashaf ki likhai

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like-what-the-fuck-scoob · 1 year

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🌸 could you maybe do a Bucky x reader in which reader clumsily hurts themself (tripping up the stairs, burning themself on a hot pan, nicking themself while shaving, hitting their head on a cabinet they didn’t know was open) and Bucky going absolutely mother hen insisting he takes care of her, basically going complete nurse mode with a first aid kit? Kind of “I can take care of myself” and “shut up and hold still” vibes?😅😂🥰

Bucky x Clumsy!Reader - Headcanons ❤️

Content Warnings - Mentions of head bumps, cuts/wounds, burns, shaving, general clumsy behaviour.

**********

- Bucky can't help but giggle everytime you hurt yourself. He finds it an endearing quirk of yours, and cannot count the amount of times you've been clumsy throughout your relationship. Though, amongst his amusement, he never fails to care for you with the upmost of sincerity.

- Reaching to the top shelf of the cupboard, it was almost predictable that something would fall, likely on top of your head with a bonk. Familiar with your sharp squeal, Bucky would chuckle, whilst nonetheless placing a comforting kiss on your bruised forehead.

- You'd definitely burned yourself more than once, whether it be on the pan, the kettle, or even your hair straighteners. Hearing a splash of oil following by a high screech, the brunette would be up from the table in a flash, by your side with yet another smirk and a chuckle. "Sit down, Doll. I'll carry on." Grabbing a bandaid from the box, he shushed you as you protested, his firm grasp ensuring your wound was covered and cared for. "Nu-uh. Sit. I don't wanna hear it." His voice still light hearted, there was a genuine sternesss to his words, the soldier intent on having you rest.

- Walking into your shared bedroom, Bucky flinched at the sight of the blood tricking down from your inner thigh. "Oh Doll. You shaved again?" He would ask in amusement, already familiar with this exact circumstance. Fetching a damp cloth, the avenger would tend to the cut gently, swatting your hand away as you attempted to take over. "Hold still, i've got you." Kissing the dry wound, he would gaze up at you with adoring eyes, truthfully enjoying every second of such tender love.

- Intent on being your fierce protector, nearly every item in the house had been threatened by your boyfriend. The first time you hit your head on a cabinet door, the soldier vowed to 'give that piece of wood a taste of its own medicine', because 'nobody hurts his babydoll and gets away with it.'

- Accepting your clumsy nature was part and parcel of Bucky's relationship with you; that was clear from early on, the brunette unable to forget when you tripped up the stairs on your first date. But, admittedly, he would never have it any other way. He was happy, more like honoured, to tend to those needs. After so many regrets in his life, these moments of care were somewhat validating; a chance for the repenting soldier to finally help, to finally do good. ❤️

#bucky barnes #marvel #marvel x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky headcanons #marvel headcanons #bucky barnes x reader

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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i had an idea for matt but idk if it was good but reader who is matt’s neighbor and she always drops stuff off for him like a new first aid kit and food because she knows he’s daredevil and matt has no idea who does it till he catches her one day

like super fluffy

hi nonnie!

I actually LOVED this idea and thought it was super cute, so thank you so much for requesting it! 💘

warning: slight angst, cavity inducing fluff word count: 2.7k

[part two]

care packages

The first time it happened, Matt hadn’t thought much of it. He simply thought he’d placed an order that he had forgotten about, tossed the package containing a first aid kit and other items into his bathroom, and called it a day. Ever since taking down Fisk, the caseload at Nelson and Murdock had nearly quadrupled, and all the remaining crime lords in Hell’s Kitchen were competing for the vacant throne. Needless to say, Matt hadn’t been sleeping more than usual, and if you asked him what day it was, he probably couldn’t even tell you.

But then it happened again. And again. And again. And again.

Every couple of weeks, a new package arrived at Matt’s door, and the contents varied with each box. Some of them contained first aid kits, bottles of ibuprofen, other over the counter medications, ice packs, epsom salts, and various other supplies. Other times there were carefully packaged homemade dishes and freshly baked treats. Foggy and Karen both swore it wasn’t them, and even inspected the packages on Matt’s behalf. There wasn’t ever a note left, or anything written on the boxes, so none of them could figure out where they were coming from. Foggy lit up like a child on Christmas morning every time Matt entered the office with a new batch of goodies, and Matt couldn’t deny how nice it was to have a break from all the takeout. Whoever was leaving the packages was an excellent cook, and an incredibly skilled baker, but not knowing who was leaving the packages or why was driving Matt absolutely insane.

Between both of his hectic lives, he didn’t have much time to investigate where the packages were coming from. He had asked his neighbors on a whim if they had seen anything, but they didn’t have a clue either. On the rare occasion when Matt did have an off day, he camped out on his couch in anticipation, hoping the next care package would arrive while he was home.

But it never did.

Karen had suggested leaving his business card taped to his front door, making the argument that it had his name and phone number on it in case whoever it was felt brave enough to contact him. But Matt was hesitant, because he wasn’t sure if the person leaving the care packages was leaving them for him, or for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and the latter made him nervous. He had no idea if they had made the connection, and he didn’t want to make it for them.

For two months, Matt drove himself completely crazy trying to solve the mystery.

By some miracle, or the grace of God, Matt was home at a normal time one Thursday evening. He was in the kitchen loosening his tie and reaching for a beer in the fridge when he smelled it. A familiar scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that had been infused with cinnamon and nutmeg. The exact same chocolate chip cookies that had been left in front of his door four times in the past two months. The ones Foggy had dubbed, “crack cookies”. They were, in his defense, highly addictive.

Matt instantly froze, focusing solely on the sound of light footsteps approaching his door from the side of the hallway by the stairwell. The person’s heartbeat was steady, and they were humming softly to themselves as they bent down to place the package directly in front of Matt’s door. Matt abruptly slammed his fridge shut, racing towards his front door to fling it open like a madman, nearly tearing it off the hinges in the process and earning a shocked gasp from you as you were still knelt in front of his door.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, noting the sharp uptick in rhythm of your heart rate as you stared wide eyed up at him, fingers gripping tightly onto the sides of the container. For a moment, neither of you said anything, until the scent of cortisol creeping into your bloodstream snapped Matt back into focus.

“Are…are you the person that’s been leaving these?”

Letting out a shaky breath, you swallowed thickly as you gave a slight nod of your head.

“I…um…yeah.”

Your voice was timid and quiet as it came out, and there was something familiar about it. There was also something incredibly familiar about your scent, but Matt couldn’t quite place it. Your heart was thundering loudly in Matt’s ears, and he could hear the anxiety in every shuddering breath you took in. As his tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, he slowly extended his hand out towards you.

“Do you…will you come in?”

Glancing between Matt’s outstretched hand and the dish in your own, you stared up at him silently for a moment. It suddenly occurred to him that his reaction might have made you more tense than the fact that you had been caught, and he pulled his lips into a gentle half smile.

“I’m not upset. I just…want to talk to you, if that’s alright?”

His words seem to put you at ease, and you carefully placed your hand into his own, allowing him to pull you up to your feet. Matt liked how soft your hand felt in his own, and he reluctantly let go to step back to grant you space, gesturing for you to come inside. After closing his door, he followed you cautiously into his living room, tuning all of his senses into you as you turned around to face him while still clutching the dish in your hands. There was something recognizable about you, but Matt for the life of him couldn’t place what it was.

“Um…I guess the obvious first question is…why you’re leaving all these care packages?”

Matt kept his voice even and gentle, not wanting you for a second to think that he was upset. As far as he could tell, you were leaving them with genuine intentions, and while that warmed his heart, he still wanted to know why. He caught the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth and tilted your head to stare down at the dish in your hands, taking in a deep, shaky breath before answering.

“Because you saved my life.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly in surprise, cocking his head to the side slightly as he took a step closer towards you and fixed his gaze in your direction with an expression of confusion.

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve represented you-”

“You were wearing a different suit.”

Matt’s entire body instantly went rigid. You did know who he was. Panic started to rise in his chest, and his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with some kind of lie or excuse to protect his identity.

“I…I don’t…I t-think you must have me confused with someone else-”

“Those men didn’t just want to rob me. They wanted to hurt me. They followed me home from that bar and pulled me into that alley. If you…hadn’t shown up when you did, they probably would’ve killed me, or left me there after they did what they really wanted to. I…I’m honestly not sure which would’ve been worse.”

Matt stilled hearing the way your voice trembled, tasting the fear that built in the corners of your eyes as the memory sent a shiver cascading down your spine. Suddenly it all clicked into place. That’s why he remembered you. He recognized your voice because he remembered hearing your frenzied cries for help from the rooftop. He recalled the scent of you lingering beneath his nose while he held you comfortingly to his chest as you gripped onto his shoulders, begging him not to leave you alone in the dark. After taking care of the men that had attacked you, he’d waited with you until the cops came, doing his best to keep you calm and reassuring you that you were safe.

Your name tumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

“Y/N.”

He remembers asking for it that night. He remembers repeating it back to you soothingly, enjoying the way it tasted on his tongue while wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. He remembers the sweet melody of your voice as you thanked him endlessly, and the way you struggled to let go of his hand once the police arrived and he had to disappear into the darkness.

He noted the way your lips tugged into the faintest of smiles as you nodded.

“You remembered.”

Matt had wanted to find you, as himself, to offer you legal representation if you wanted to build a case. But with things being so hectic lately, he never got the chance. Another wave of confusion settled over his features when he took another step forward towards you.

“Wait, but how did you-”

“I live in this building. I saw you on the roof about a week later.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly at your words, giving a slight nod of his head to encourage you to continue.

“I was up there kinda late one night. There was a lunar eclipse that was supposed to be visible at a certain time, and I wanted to see it. I saw you. You disappeared through that door on the roof, and I thought it just went to a stairwell, but none of the stairwells I found led to that same door. I kinda put it together that it only led to your apartment…and it wasn’t that hard to figure out which one was yours from there.”

“So…you didn’t…know that I was-”

“No. I didn’t know who you were, not really. I never saw you again after that. I just…you looked like you were hurt that night. I wanted to do something…something to help you. I felt like I owed you.”

Matt pursed his lips as he shook his head quickly, letting a dry chuckle escape his mouth.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you my life.”

Matt paused at the sincerity in your voice, noticing that it came out a lot firmer as you spoke those words. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides as you let out a soft sigh, turning around to place the dish of cookies on his coffee table.

“Look, I’m sorry if I…I freaked you out or anything. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to do something nice for you since you saved me. I figured you probably go through a lot of first aid kits and don’t have much time to cook with your busy night job.”

Matt chuckled softly as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, placing his hands on his hips as he followed your movements.

“That’s an understatement. Can I…can I ask…why you didn’t say anything? I mean, you never knock or leave a note or anything.”

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and shrugged lightly as you fiddled with a ring around your finger.

“I told you, I didn’t wanna freak you out. I’m sure you wear the mask for a reason. I…wanted to respect your privacy. Look, you don’t owe me anything, certainly not an explanation. You don’t have to tell me anything at all, and I would never tell anyone about this, I swear.”

The steady, strong rhythm of your heartbeat had Matt’s chest swelling with gratitude. He knew you were telling the truth.

“I believe you.”

There was a faint smile pulling at your lips as you stared at him, and Matt desperately wanted to know what you saw, and what you were thinking. He didn’t think it was a coincidence someone like you had fallen into his lap. He didn’t believe in coincidences. But he did believe in divine intervention. What were the odds of him saving your life, being your neighbor, and the recipient of your unwavering kindness and genuine understanding?

“I…I’m not a doctor, or a medical professional by any means, but I do know my way around a first aid kit. I’m also a horrible insomniac, so I’m usually awake at ungodly hours throughout the night. If you ever…need…or want any help, I just live a floor down. I’m in 5C.”

“I…thank you. And thank you for all of the care packages.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Matt felt his cheeks heat up at the candor in your voice. He didn’t get thanked often for what he did every night, not that the praise was his main motivator, but they were still two words he didn’t hear all that much. The people he took down certainly weren’t thanking him for sending them to prison, and sometimes the people he saved were in too much shock to speak, or he had to take off before he got caught by the cops. But something about the way the gentle inflection of your voice dripped into his ears like honey had warmth spreading throughout his entire body. He took another careful step towards you, extending his hand once again for you to take as his lips parted into a tender smile.

“Matthew. My name is Matthew.”

His heart started to beat a little faster feeling the way your mouth pulled into a smile of your own, reveling in the feeling of your soft hand slipping into his once again, fingers delicately curling around the bottom of his palm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew. Officially.”

Matt keened at the way his name sounded falling from your lips, and he gave your hand a faint squeeze.

“It’s nice to meet you officially as well, Y/N.”

He didn’t miss the way your heart jumped slightly when he repeated your name, or the fact that neither one of you seemed to want to let go of the other’s hand.

“You know, my partner is going to be beyond excited that I’ve finally found the person responsible for those amazing cookies.”

Matt’s chest expanded with pride feeling the rise in temperature across your cheeks, lips parting slightly as your soft giggle hit his ears.

“Nice of you to share, Matthew.”

A wider smile tugged across his lips hearing you say his name again. He lightly stroked his thumb across your knuckle as he shrugged.

“I thought at first one of them was doing it, but neither of them are as good of a cook or a baker. You’re a hit in our office, by the way.”

“I am?”

“They ask me everyday if I’ve gotten a new care package. Obviously the edible ones are their favorite.”

Another soft giggle slipped past your stretched lips, and Matt found himself inching closer to the sound as heat spread down your neck and across your chest.

“They…they know, too?”

“They do.”

“Well, then they’re just as deserving.”

Matt found himself completely in awe of you, wondering how he had managed to find an angel when he walked the path of the Devil.

“Can I…can I take you to dinner? To say thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me-”

“I want to. You’ve provided me with a ton of dinners lately. I’d like to treat you to one.”

Matt angled his head to the side slightly as he listened to your heart’s tempo increase, enjoying the way you delicately tightened your hold on his hand as you took in a shaky breath.

“Well, how can I refuse my savior?”

“You can’t. It’s against the law actually.”

A large grin spread across your mouth at Matt’s playful tone, peering up at him with curiosity.

“Are you a lawyer, Matthew?”

“I am.”

An incredulous giggle escaped your mouth as your brows knit together in the center of your forehead.

“So, wait…lawyer by day, vigilante by night? How does that work, exactly?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Matt chuckled softly as you giggled, resisting the urge to reach his hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear like he had done the first night he met you.

“So, Friday night?”

“You know where to find me.”

“I do, now.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil request

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atarathegreat · 7 months

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It's Cold

December was always freezing in Tokyo, the only people who never really felt it being those lucky enough to have warm quirks. You always thought it was strange to see people in tank tops and shorts all year round, a few even keeping their quirks activated while they walked through the deep snow on the cold concrete. No one could complain, the warmth was melting the freezing flakes and leaving the sidewalks safe to trek on.

No one appreciated it more than you did, however. Your quirk was never meant to keep you warm or even, really, be all that useful. The setback of winter never kept you from your daily walks and visiting the coffee shop, the clear sidewalks always made it better. You always kept two cylinders of salt in your backpack, sprinkling it where you walked to keep the snow from sticking, because even with quirks people could slip and fall. Also in your bag, next to a couple bottles of water and pain killers, was a box of Hot Handz, mittens, and a fairly packed first aid kit. Being prepared in the super powered world was important, even if you were mostly prepped with regular items.

You pulled your thick jacket a little closer as you smiled to those you passed. The wind was biting and making your cheeks pink and making your teeth rattle together, you assumed it made for a very scary smile. Why else was no one smiling back?

"Whoa!" A small, too small, patch of ice made your heel twist and send you falling backward. Closing your eyes, you braced for the impact that never came, instead a red feather tickled your nose as smooth laughter poured down on you. "Easy, kid, the snow will get ya' out here." Pro hero Hawks was perched upon the wide street light, his thicker winter outfit doing little to keep him warm, if you had to guess from his matching pink cheeks and the way his wings shivered.

A smile tugged at your lips as you kicked to dislodge the ice, "Thank you!"

He didn't need thanks, it was his job to help people. Sure, it wasn't like you were in danger from anything but a busted tailbone, but he was a hero. You waved up at him, pouring a small amount of salt in the area before continuing on. Hawks watched you with confusion. Why was a civilian doing a task that the city was already getting paid to do? He shrugged, crouching to keep himself warm while he kept watch for the next hour or so.

Espresso and coffee beans is the smell that welcomed you. Wrapped you in the softest blanket and kissed your head before passing you a nice pastry. Few patrons turned to see who had let in a small amount of the cold, even fewer seeming to care about your arrival. The barista smiled and greeted you, asking if you'd like your normal order. "Can I also get a strawberry strudel, a warm black coffee with a couple packets of creamer, and two cans of the iced coffee?" You dug in your bag for your wallet as the girl rang up your order. Typically you would sit and watch the snowflakes fall on the big window overlooking the street, but today you made other plans.

So you tucked the strudel and cans of coffee in your bag, carrying the two tall and hot cups in your hands. It would tweak your morning routine, but you felt that it was worth it, even if it only brought a smile to someone's face.

"Hawks, sir!" You called up to the feathery man, motioning to the cup in your hands, "Care for a cup?"

He landed easily next to you, making you happier in your decision to bring him something warm when you heard his teeth clacking together. You passed him his cup, pulling your bag around, "I also got you a strawberry strudel, some iced coffees and here is some creamer, just in case you don't like black coffee."

Hawks tilted his head as you passed him everything, "You don't have to buy things for heroes, kid. We're practically made of money." And yet, you only shrugged at him, "This saves you time!"

As much as he wanted to argue that you shouldn't spend money on him, you were right. You had saved him time that he could now use doing his job or taking his break. "Thanks. What's your name?" Hawks pulled the cardboard sleeve off the cup, writing a small thank you on it before passing it back to you, "Cool name, take care, okay?"

You waited until you were a fair distance away and replaced the sleeve on your cup with the one the hero had written on. It was a sweet gesture that you had done for a hero, one that Hawks would tell to everyone at the agency for days upon days, especially when you made it a frequent part of your routine.

Everyday, without fail, you would walk under him with a bright smile and a wave, returning within the hour and passing him a warm coffee and a strudel, he liked his coffee black so you didn't need to buy creamer packets. One his day off he stood against the light post, casual clothes under an incredibly thick winter coat. He wasn't really sure why he cared so much to see you walk by, but the idea of you not smiling at him made him...upset? He didn't know, but he wanted to see you smile.

"Hey, hey!" He stepped forward as you walked up, "What's up, kid?"

You smiled, passing him a Hot Handz, "It's getting colder these days, so I'm trying to stay active!"

Any hero could admire that, especially from a person like you. Someone who fought to be kind to everyone, or maybe you were just kind by nature and didn't realize that people were assholes. "You into walks that much, huh?" Hawks held a wing over your head to keep the falling ice from collecting in your hair. He narrowed his eyes as your shrugged, "It's always just been a part of my routine."

"Fair enough. Can't say I enjoy the cold weather any more than the next guy." Hawks smirked. For a pro hero, you thought, he sure was normal. Or as normal as a man with wings could be. "So why aren't you on your light this morning?" You asked. He looked over at you, shaking his wing a little to get rid of the accumulating snow, "Day off, didn't want you to miss me."

He wanted to play it off perfectly. To have you, a complete stranger, know that you made his heart nearly explode with your kindness, that he looked forward to your daily smile, that he liked your face and the pink that the cold put on your cheeks. Now that he'd heard you laugh, heard your sweet giggle, he was smitten. "You'll be joining me at the coffee shop then this morning?" You asked, looking up and noticing your new shelter, "I know I sure could use the warmth of the shop this morning."

For the first time, everyone stared as you opened the door. The little bell chimed, giving you away, of course, but it was the hero at your side that really made them watch you. To your relief, the barista greeted you as usual. Hawks followed you up to the counter, leaning carefully across it and staring at you as you ordered the same thing as every other morning, just not to-go. "Finally taking a break?" The girl smiled at you, ringing up the order despite knowing the price off the top of her head. Your laughter made the mans wings fluff, only slightly, "Might as well, huh? Nothing wrong with sitting, and it's his day off so I don't have to hurry back."

Before you could pay, Hawks was shoving a card into the chip reader and giving you a cheeky smile, "You pay every other day, can't have you paying today. What kind of man would I be?"

He swore that the barista sighed, or swooned, whatever he caught the end of. Hawks was aware that he was an accidental womanizer, sometimes he was able to use it to his advantage, PR and fans and such. But you didn't seem to be jailed by his charms. You didn't react when his fingers brushed yours handing you the cup, you didn't react when he tucked your chair under you, you didn't even react when he placed his shoe snuggly against yours. You just kept talking about your routine, how you enjoyed the mornings when they were warmer and how bringing him coffee every morning was a nice addition. Just the simple act of bringing him coffee seemed to be enough for you. Did you really have no interest in the hero?

"So, why'd you get me the coffee that first day?" Hawks asked.

You perked up, "You looked cold, and if you were going to be perched on that street light all day then you needed something warm."

A small smirk spread over his lips and he leaned back in his chair, "How thoughtful of you. I'll just say it before I make a fool of myself,"

Hawks took your hand and pulled you closer to him over the table, "I think I like you."

Whatever pink hue the cold had granted you blended in with the new redness he was plastering across your cheeks. A hero liked you? What had you done aside from gifting him coffee? It was the least you thought you could do, seeing as he was always watching over that stretch of road where you walked.

"Say something, yeah?" Hawks squeezed your hand.

"Oh! Oh, uhm..." You stared down into your coffee, your reflection looking startled, "I didn't expect that..."

he chuckled, "Let this be a date? See how ya' carry through?"

December was always freezing in Tokyo, the only people who never really felt it being those lucky enough to have warm quirks. And now you, blushing and smiling as warmth spread through your limbs.

#anime #manga #x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #hawks #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #mha takami keigo

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punkshort · 9 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, violence, m masturbation, smut

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Back in your apartment, the two of you set to work quietly organizing everything spread out on the living room floor that you could think of to pack. The biggest section was food. Luckily you were still used to a dorm room diet, so you had tons of useful items to take on the go. You had focused on the cans with protein like tuna, chicken and beans, then moved on to granola and protein bars, nuts, dried fruit, ramen noodles, cereal, instant rice and easy mac. Joel packed each of you a flashlight with extra batteries, and handfuls of matches and lighters he had found rummaging through your floor. Justin's camping equipment came with a canteen, plate, bowl, and foldable silverware for each, and a small first aid kit, which Joel significantly bolstered after raiding all the bathrooms on the floor.

He told you to only pack one or two extra sets of clothes, that you would have to break into houses or stores along the way if you needed more. He didn't want to waste the space in your packs that could be used for food and medicine.

You both set to work filling your bags with as much stuff as you could. Joel slipped a map into his pack that he had picked up from a kitchen drawer down the hall, and you had snuck in an unopened box of tampons and a folded up picture of your parents in yours when he wasn't looking.

It was around midday when you were all set to go, making sure to eat something left behind in your cupboards one last time.

You closed the door behind you, but you didn't lock it in case someone came along and needed something. Then sadly, you turned and gripped your baseball bat, following Joel down the long hallway, down the stairs and to the lobby.

Before Joel pushed the lobby door open to the outside, he turned to you.

"Which way's the subway?"

You pointed down the street to the right.

"It's about 3 blocks that way, not far. It's mostly all apartment buildings and a few stores on the corners."

Joel nodded, cracking the door open to listen for any sign of trouble. It sounded clear, so he ventured out to confirm before pulling you out behind him.

"We gotta be quick, but not too quick. Don't want to accidentally sneak up on somethin' out here," Joel explained in a hushed tone. "If you hear anythin', stop and don't make a sound. And you tell me if you see anythin' at all, understand?" You walked closely next to him as he was speaking, the whole time looking all around you frantically, your senses in overdrive, and your heart hammering in your chest. All you did was nod, not wanting to risk making too much noise.

The streets were quiet. Joel peeked around the corner and made sure no soldiers or infected were nearby before ushering you across the open street and back behind the safety of a building. One block down.

The two of you trotted down the sidewalk, swiveling your head around every few feet to see if there was anyone behind you. You almost made it to the next corner when Joel swung out his arm to stop you. You held your breath, heart racing as you focused on the noise he heard. It was the slow rumbling of an engine that reminded you of the FEDRA truck you heard patrolling outside your apartment last night. Joel must have figured that out, too, because he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to hide behind a dumpster that was sticking out of a narrow alley. You both crouched down and waited for the truck to pass. Fortunately, it didn't turn down the street you were on, where you would have been exposed.

Once the noise faded, Joel stood up slowly before motioning for you to follow. Again, he poked his head around the corner and took extra time to make sure no one was around before dragging you across the street once more. One more block to go.

You were halfway down the block as you passed a pawn shop, windows smashed in and the place ransacked. You grabbed Joel's arm and his head whipped around in a panic. You shook your head to tell him nothing was wrong and pointed into the pawn shop.

"Weapons?" you mouthed.

He hesitated a moment, trying to decide if you should press on or see if there was something useful in there before ultimately deciding to check it out. If the subway had infected in it, it would be better if there was more than just one knife between you. Joel stepped through the broken glass door carefully, glancing around at the small shop before holding his hand out to guide you through the opening. You both took a quick look around, noticing anything valuable was long gone, and most of the knives were picked over, but you did find a decent sized switchblade for yourself. You tucked it into your jeans pocket, and you carried on down the street towards the subway entrance.

You had a long way to go down the dark tunnel, but so far it had been quiet and uneventful. Your flashlight beams bounced off the brick walls as you walked in silence, trying to stay focused on your surroundings. Your anxiety spiked with every new subway station you passed, reminding you of just how much deeper into the city you were getting. From what the soldiers had said, more densely populated areas were worse off, and so far in your limited experience that had proven to be true.

You were two stations away from the one you stopped at for work when you first saw people. It was just two families, huddled together on the platform. They had seen your flashlights long before you saw them, so trying to sneak by was useless. They seemed like they were just innocent survivors, so Joel kept walking, holding his head up. He made eye contact with two of the men in the group and gave them each a firm nod, hoping to convey you were just passing through and not looking for trouble. They nodded back wordlessly, and you carried on your way.

The next station had more people who had sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and lanterns. It looked like they were trying to wait it out underground long-term. A few of the men approached the end of the platform to address Joel.

"You soldiers?" one of them asked.

"No, just passin' through, tryin' to stay off the streets, sorry to disturb you all," Joel replied. He paused for a moment, and looked back at the men who were still watching you carefully. "Any of you see any infected down here?"

One of the men shook his head. "Nah, man, that's why we're sitting tight down here. Soldiers must be keeping them busy up top."

Joel nodded. "Thanks... good luck to you."

Finally, you approached your stop for work and found the platform to be filled with people, just like the previous one. They were kind and immediately helped you both up off the tracks. You introduced yourselves and explained you were headed to Joel's apartment not too far from there. One of the women, Josie, warned you the closer you got to the heart of the city, the worse it was.

"We heard, thank you. Once we get up top it won't be a long walk," you said, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead to clear the sweat collecting there. "We've been walking for hours. Joel?" You turned to him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Josie's husband, Peter. "Can we rest here for a bit?" Joel turned back to Peter.

"That ok with you folks?" he asked. Peter and Josie nodded, seemingly the leaders of the small group of strangers huddled on the platform.

The two of you slunk down against the tiled wall, pulling out protein bars and your canteens after sitting down. You shut your eyes for a few minutes, leaning the back of your head against the wall, chewing and grateful to be taking a break.

"You holdin' up alright?" Joel asked softly beside you. You nodded, keeping your eyes closed.

"I'm just tired," you replied, taking another bite of your protein bar without looking.

"It ain't much further, once we get on the street it's another few blocks. We should be able to get there before - "

Joel's sentence was cut short by screaming, and your eyes flew open in surprise as you dropped your protein bar and grabbed your bat while fumbling around in your pocket for the switchblade. Joel was already standing, gripping his bat and trying to locate the source of the scream in the group. One of the men, who looked asleep when you arrived, was snarling and had his teeth clamped down into the shoulder of an older man, blood pouring down his arm and soaking both of their shirts. Peter and another man jumped into action to pull the infected off the poor man screaming in agony, struggling to pin it to the ground.

Joel charged forward before you could stop him, your hands desperately clawing at his t-shirt, but he was already throwing himself into the group to help. You watched in horror as the three men struggled to hold it down, and just as Joel was getting ready to bash its skull in with the baseball bat, it lunged forward, knocking Peter and the other man off to the side and pushing Joel onto his back.

Joel held the infected up by its shoulders as it pinned him down, snapping and growling inches from his face. Joel's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes flashed with rage as he summoned all the strength he could manage and pushed it off him, making it stumble backwards. It was just enough time for Joel to reach to his side for his hunting knife and plunged it into the infected’s skull with a guttural yell.

The infected went limp immediately and fell to the floor. Joel stood over the body, tense, covered in blood, and panting heavily with the knife still clutched in his hand. Peter and the other man rushed to join the rest of the group helping the one who was bit in the shoulder, but you raced straight to Joel, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Surprised, he lifted one arm to place it reassuringly on your back, the other still clutching his knife.

You let him go, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you frowned at him angrily. He looked down at you, the adrenaline wearing off, and saw the anguish on your face. He reached his hand out to you, but you slapped it away and instead shoved his chest heatedly, making him stumble just a bit in surprise.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" you seethed, narrowing your eyes at him and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "You could have gotten killed!"

Joel stared at you, still panting slightly, then put the knife back in its holder. He couldn't gauge your reaction. Were you upset he would be killed because then you would be alone, or upset because of something else? He sighed and reached out to you again. This time, you didn't shove him, but you didn't go to him, either.

Josie approached you, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Joel, for saving my husband," she said, clutching his outstretched hand in her own, then turned to you. "Don't be mad at your boyfriend, dear, he just saved us all."

Your mouth fell open, and before you could correct her, she went back to Peter and hugged him tightly. Joel cleared his throat beside you, seemingly pleased with himself.

"You heard her," he winked at you. "Can't stay mad at me." You scowled back at him, and with a more serious tone, he added, "us or them, remember?"

You sighed, relaxing your brow. You knew he was right, but you were still pissed off. You turned on your heel and headed back to your abandoned protein bar, effectively ending the conversation.

Joel joined you and watched as the group deliberated quietly on how to deal with the man who was bit. You had learned he likely only had a few hours before he turned, based on the location of his bite. Ultimately, Peter volunteered, and he quickly and privately put the man out of his misery with a kitchen knife. You winced when you heard the squelch of blood from across the platform, burying your face in your shoulder.

You didn't stay much longer after that. Once Joel had gotten his strength back, you picked up your belongings and gave your farewells. Josie and Peter thanked Joel again, and you headed up to the familiar street corner, dusk fast approaching.

It took you both an hour to walk to Joel's apartment, which normally would have taken ten minutes, but he insisted on going slow and being careful at every turn. When you approached his building, you had to crane your neck all the way back to take in the full height. His building definitely used to have a doorman: it was fancy. You walked into the ornate lobby and turned around in a slow circle, taking in everything from the detailed crown molding to the beautiful, tiled floor that looked more like a piece of art. You almost felt bad for stepping on it. Even the ceiling was vaulted and decorated in tiny, intricate squares with gilded chandeliers hanging from it. Finally, you looked straight ahead and saw an arched window that overlooked a private garden.

"Shit," you whispered, "I almost got an apartment in this building."

Joel turned back to you, surprised, then realized you were being sarcastic when he saw your grin. He smiled to himself and shook his head, leading you down the hallway towards the stairwell door.

"I take it you're not on the second floor?" you asked him quietly as you began to climb the stairs.

"No, little higher than that," he replied. "30th floor."

You stopped dead in your tracks, which made him stop and turn back to you questioningly. He could tell what the problem was when he saw the pained expression on your face without you even having to speak.

"I know, it's gonna take us a while, but we can stop and rest whenever you need to." You sighed and hung your head, continuing your journey up the stairs.

You made it to the halfway point before you had to take a break, sitting on a step, panting and chugging water from your canteen while Joel leaned against the wall across from you, sipping his own water. The sun was going down, so you each dug your flashlights out of your packs before continuing.

"Not much further," Joel panted, turning the corner of another staircase, "then we can rest. No point in diggin' around in the dark, it's been a long day." You nodded, choosing not to speak to conserve your energy, and focused on the flashlight beam ahead of you.

You weren't sure how long it took, but finally you climbed the last step to face the door marked with a big, red "30". That's when you looked up and noticed you were on the top floor. Of course he lives on the top floor.

Joel pushed the door open a crack and peeked down the hall, which was very short and only had two doors and an elevator at the other end. He held the door open for you to walk through, then gently closed it. You frowned, looking back and forth at the two doors, puzzled.

Joel looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight when he saw your confusion, before mumbling, "It's a penthouse," and brushed past you to unlock his door.

You had never seen a penthouse before, but you knew they were for people who were really rich, especially in New York City. He opened the door, locking it behind you. You couldn't really see much other than what your flashlight exposed, but you could tell the room you were standing in was massive. You briefly flicked your light around, taking in some couches, bookcases, a fireplace and some other furniture. You stopped when you noticed the entire wall was top to bottom windows with a balcony attached, and covered your flashlight quickly. Joel kicked off his sneakers, and noticing the dimmer light, turned his flashlight to shine on you questioningly.

"Can't people see in? Like, the lights moving?" you asked. He shook his head.

"Privacy windows," he explained, then turned and headed towards another room. You quickly kicked your own shoes off, skittering after him, sticking close. The place was so huge you were afraid you'd get lost, and the darkness mixed with the eerie silence from lack of power and road noise made the hairs on your arm stand up. As you walked, you shined your flashlight on everything around you, baffled by how far the apartment seemed to stretch. You were so engrossed in your surroundings that you bumped into him when he had stopped walking.

"Oops, sorry," you whispered.

"Why are you whispering? We're safe here," he replied at full volume. You shrugged.

"I don't know, this place is huge, Joel, give me a minute - oh my god, is this your kitchen?!" you exclaimed as your jaw dropped, noticing the kitchen island in front of you that must have seated ten people. On one side. Easily. The island, made of marble or quartz, was white with silver and black specks. You noticed the counter was the same all over the kitchen, even on the built in bar in the corner. The cupboards were a light oak that was soft against your fingertips as you gently trailed them against the wood, wandering around his kitchen in amazement.

Joel watched you as you walked around his kitchen, gently touching the handles of the knives in the block and running your fingers along the countertop. You looked like you had never seen anything like this before, and his chest ached when he wondered what would have happened that night if you agreed to come home with him. You could have seen this place in a whole different light. He could have made you a drink from the bar and played you some music over the sound system. If he was lucky, he could have laid you down on the kitchen island you were so currently fascinated with, your fingers gripping the edges as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear to explore your soaking wet folds, pushing one finger inside you, and then another, slowly teasing you until you begged him for more.

Having you in his place was clouding his mind, he needed to focus. He cleared his throat before heading towards the pantry door. You eagerly followed closely behind and when you realized the pantry was a room as big as your own kitchen, you moaned with envy, causing his eyes to flutter shut momentarily.

"This place is amazing," you told him, sifting through the food on his shelves. You grabbed some peanut butter and crackers, turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"Where's the silverware?" you asked over your shoulder.

"Drawer next to the sink," he replied, and watched as you grabbed a butter knife. He picked up a can of Beefaroni off the shelf and opened the drawer in the kitchen with the can opener after picking a fork out from the silverware drawer you left open in your haste to eat.

He sat across from you at the island, eating his cold Beefaroni out of the can while you slathered crackers with peanut butter and popped them in your mouth. You smirked at his choice of food.

"Chef Boyardee?" you asked curiously, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure your private chef could have made you the real thing from scratch." Joel chuckled.

"Alright, I ain't got a private chef. Besides, this is the real thing. Nothin' beats it."

You smiled, fascinated that a man who lived in such a lavish apartment would have Beefaroni as his guilty pleasure. Feeling full and sleepy, you twisted the top of the peanut butter jar closed, and out of habit ran your tongue along the butter knife to clean it. You didn't even realize how that looked until you heard Joel's breath hitch and he looked down to study the empty can in front of him. Your cheeks felt warm from embarrassment, but luckily, he couldn't see it under the cover of darkness. You cleaned the knife (with a sponge, this time) and Joel's fork, putting them back in the drawer.

"Alright, let's get some shut eye. We should try to get an early start tomorrow, I want to get out of this city as soon as we can," Joel said, grabbing his pack he had set down when you walked in, and headed further down the hallway.

You followed him nervously, looking at the expensive-looking art on the walls and even a few statues on pedestals before reaching his bedroom. He pushed the door open, and your flashlights bounced around the room to illuminate the corners the moonlight hid from view. As expected, his bedroom was spacious with a bathroom and two walk-in closets attached. You noticed one of the closets was void of any clothes, and the other was packed to the brim. You poked your head in his bathroom, sighing enviously when you saw the huge, glass walk-in shower and built in vanity. You turned around to find Joel had dug out a couple lanterns from his closet and placed one on each end table so you could conserve your flashlight batteries. You clicked it off and walked over awkwardly, not sure what the sleeping arrangements should be. Unlike you, he has couches more than big enough to accommodate a grown adult, but the thought of being alone in the living room of this huge apartment made you nervous.

It hadn't even been a question in Joel's mind.

"Hop in and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," and he left the bedroom, back down the hallway to double check the locks. You rummaged in your pack for some more comfortable clothes to sleep in, and quickly changed before he returned, nestled under the covers on the most comfortable mattress you had ever been on in your life.

When Joel reentered the bedroom, his thoughts didn't even have time to catch up with how fast he felt the blood rushing to his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut as he blindly walked right to his closet and shut the door so he could change into his pajamas, willing his erection away. He groaned quietly, leaning his head against the wall of the closet, frustrated with how distracted he's been. If he doesn't stop, it could get you or him killed. He would have to do something about it before heading out tomorrow. He was lucky so far, you've had relatively safe places to hole up in, but that was going to end.

When he finally got himself under control, he exited the closet and got into the other side of the bed. You already had your lantern off and you were laying on your side with your eyes closed, exhausted from all the walking and events of the day. His bed was much larger than yours, and he hoped the extra space would help him get his mind out of the gutter. He turned his lantern off, and leaned back into the familiar pillow and sheets, closing his eyes. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke.

"Joel?" you squeaked.

"Hm?" he replied, keeping his eyes closed.

"This is the nicest apartment I've ever seen, how long have you lived here?"

"About six years or so," he said, shifting a little under the covers. "But I like your place more," he admitted.

"My place?!" you said, outraged. "You could fit my entire apartment into this bedroom, you're crazy."

"Yeah, well, your place felt more..." he trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Like a home. This place feels like a museum."

"I'm sure you could make this place feel just as cozy," you yawned before adding, "this bed, for instance, is the most comfortable thing I've ever laid on." Joel smiled.

"Glad you like it." Sweetheart.

He waited until he was sure you were sleeping deeply enough before he locked himself into his bathroom and pulled his sweatpants down just far enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it steadily with one hand while the other propped him up against the wall, eyes screwed shut. His thoughts picked up where he left off in the kitchen, his fingers deep in your pussy, but then he would add his thumb to your swollen clit, making your back arch off the cold counter and gasp his name. His thumb would pick up the pace, keeping up with your moans, rubbing tight circles and flexing and thrusting his fingers inside of you until your body finally stilled under him, whimpering his name as you came.

He imagined you gazing up at him hazily, the same way you looked at him last week outside the bar, but now you would reach out and grab the waist of his jeans, pulling him closer and whisper hoarsely to him, "Please, Joel, I need you, I need more..."

He imagined what it would feel like to slide inside you, your cunt soft and warm, so welcoming and taking him inch by inch. He would grasp your hips, his feet firmly on the ground and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, one of your hands lost in your own hair and the other firmly holding onto his wrist, eyes rolled towards the back of your head, moaning, as he stretched you out. When he would start moving, he would go slow at first and enjoy the way your tits bounced gently along with his movements. He would do his best to take his time, but he imagined you asking him - begging him - to fuck you harder. Of course, he would give you what you wanted. He would slam into you, over and over, groaning as he would feel your cunt squeezing around him, warning him you were close. His thumb would travel down to your clit once again, pressing firmly from side to side until you were screaming his name and he felt your warm release spill over his cock.

"Fuck!" Joel grunted out into the darkness, as he shot thick ropes of cum over his hand and onto the tile floor, completely losing himself and forgetting to grab a tissue. He stood there a few minutes, catching his breath, his forehead pressed against the bathroom wall. Finally, he pushed himself away and cleaned up his mess carefully, using his flashlight to make sure he didn't miss anything. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hoped that would help keep him sharp and focused for tomorrow.

He opened the bathroom door quietly, relieved to see you hadn't moved a muscle since he left. You were still sleeping peacefully, facing his side of the bed with your lips slightly parted. He smiled at the sight, setting his flashlight down and about to slide back into bed when he heard a noise coming from down the hall. He froze, listening intently, trying to figure out the source. He glanced down at you once more to confirm you were still asleep and headed quietly out the bedroom door, carefully closing it behind him.

He walked down the hallway, now on high alert, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He walked by a statue, grabbing it and turning it upside down so the square base was upright in his hand. He gripped it tightly as he neared the kitchen, now hearing rustling and seeing a beam of light coming from the pantry. He glanced around the room before peering around the open pantry door, seeing someone crouched on the floor and rifling through his food, but all Joel could focus on was the revolver on the floor next to him, shining in the moonlight. Shooting one more glance over his shoulder, Joel stepped inside, silently placing the statue down on the floor, and then lunged forward, quickly wrapping his arm around the intruder’s neck, and using his other hand to lock his arm in place. Joel yanked them both up to a standing position, putting his foot over the revolver and shoving it under the shelves in the pantry, out of arms reach. The intruder slapped wildly at Joel's arms, then tried clawing at his face, desperate to loosen his grip so he could breathe, but Joel didn't budge, his grip strong and unmoving, his face contorted in a fury and a heat he never felt before. It didn't take long before the man passed out, but Joel held on a few minutes longer to make sure the air didn't revive him.

Once he was satisfied he was dead, Joel laid him gently on the pantry floor, frantically trying to catch his breath. He slowly picked the statue back up, temporarily forgetting about the gun, and then closed his eyes a moment as his breathing began to stabilize. He reopened them, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched. He needed to make sure the man was alone, and you were safe.

He left the pantry, glancing around the room once again before stepping forward. He was about to enter the hallway to head back towards the living room when something hard hit him across the chest, sending him crashing loudly back into the kitchen, dropping the statue. Joel gasped for air in the darkness, scrambling backwards and reaching around blindly to try to find his statue, but the other intruder kicked it away and pinned Joel down with his own baseball bat. The bat was being pressed to his throat, and Joel struggled to push against the man's weight.

"Who else is here with you?" the intruder sneered. Joel was barely able to make out his face in the darkness.

"No one," he gasped and shook his head, pushing back harder now that he was reminded of you sleeping sweetly in his bed, hoping and praying you stayed in there.

"Bullshit," the man spit. "I saw the shoes by the door. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her after I kill - "

Suddenly, the pressure was gone, and Joel coughed, holding his throat. He whipped around frantically, trying to find anything to use as a weapon, when he heard wet thumping over and over. He stood up, desperately trying to make his eyes adjust to the shadows. Remembering the flashlight, he scrambled back in the pantry and snatched it up, casting the beam of light over the scuffle.

You were bent over and brutally caving in the skull of the man who almost killed him.

Over and over, you aimed the corner of the statue at the man's disfigured face, beating him to a bloody pulp, the squishing sound of blood echoing in your ears. Joel calling your name and grabbing you around the waist was the only thing that stopped you. You dropped the statue and looked him in the eye, like a wild animal cornered and ready to strike. He grabbed your face, repeating your name until your eyes focused back on him. The enormity of what you did hit you in an instant: you just killed a man.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your lips trembled as you continued to stare into Joel’s eyes. He shook his head when he saw the emotion on your face.

“No. No, no, no, no. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his embrace, and it was then you let the tears flow as you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, gripping his t-shirt in your fist like a lifeline. He snaked his arm up your back, so his hand rested at the crown of your head, and his other arm tightly squeezed you around the ribs. You both slunk to the floor of his kitchen, holding onto each other for dear life, the horror of the world around you finally making its mark on you both.

Chapter Nine

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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bloodmoonmuses · 2 months

Text

it waits for dawn | lee taeyong

requested by an anon! send me an ask!

genre: taeyong x reader, friends to lovers, summer coworkers, non-idol au, fluff sorta kinda :)))

wc: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of blood, some swearing

summary: while working your summer job, you meet an eclectic boy who's obsessed with stars and the beauty of the universe.

Working at the planetarium was an odd summer job, sure, but it was about the same pay as the ice cream shop or (God forbid) the zoo. The facility remained pretty empty most days, save for the occasional field trip or savvy tourist. For the first two weeks you worked there, it was just you and the manager, Taeil. Then, one day, Taeil says he finally found another lackey- some guy who just finished his undergrad.

You’re not sure why a college graduate would be slumming it at a planetarium, but you don’t question the matter any further. At least now you’d have someone to split responsibilities with.

“He’ll be here any minute,” Taeil tells you.

When he walks in, you’re a bit taken aback. His cotton candy hair and smattering of tattoos almost clashes with the nerdy polo and khakis he’s wearing. You assume this is his attempt at looking “professional”, which is funny because you’re in a band tee and cut-off shorts and Taeil is practically in pajamas.

“I’m Taeyong,” he says bashfully, dipping his head as a greeting.

You shake his outstretched hand and his ears turn red. He has the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen, like a drawing almost. The prevailing word at the front of your mind is “cute”. He’s very cute.

Taeyong is a sticker book come to life, eclectic and vibrant against the dullness of the overcast day. You’ve never seen him around before. You would’ve remembered. He must be new in town- or a figment of your imagination. A part of you wishes it’s the latter.

“I’m ____,” you say, fixated on your still conjoined hands. When Taeyong realizes he hasn’t broken away from the hand shake, he drops his arm quickly, coughing to fill the awkward silence. Taeil is none the wiser.

“If you could show him around the place, that’d be nice.” Taeil says nonchalantly. He walks back into his office, going to take his daily three hour nap. Taeyong looks at you confusedly.

“If you had any worry about this being a strenuous or uptight job-” Taeil’s snoring interjects, “-I can assure you, it is not.” you contend. “It’s like a movie theater, honestly. We run the projection presentations every other hour, and when there’s field trips, we walk the kiddos around for about 45 minutes or so.”

“Ah, really? That’s it, huh?” Taeyong looks a bit disappointed.

“Yeah. Pretty easy,” you say, shrugging. “Oh, and we stock the gift shop.”

—

The next day, Taeyong somehow manages to bomb his first real shift.. You’re shelving plushies in the gift shop when you hear a loud crashing sound. When you make your way to the supply room to see what happened, Taeyong is buried in a pile of commemorative cups on the floor.

“You okay?” you ask, trying not to laugh. The moon phase tumblers are the most popular of the gift shop items, constantly needing to be restocked.

“I think so,” he says. As you help him stand, you notice blood on his hand.

“Need a band-aid?” Taeyong’s eyes shimmer with tears, and he places his cut finger into his mouth, pouting a bit. He nods and you grab the first aid kit off the wall. It’s covered in a layer of dust from lack of use. You blow on its surface.

“How’d you cut your finger?” you ask, still giggling a bit.

“I tried to catch the box as it was falling.” He winces as the air hits his wound. “Ouch.”

You “tsk” at him, shaking your head as you open the first aid kit. “Taeyong, you gotta be more careful. Taeil doesn’t care if we live or die!”

He chuckles. “That’s not true! I think he has a soft spot for me.��

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this cleaned up.” You take some alcohol and soak a cotton ball. Then, you clean his (minor) cut, unwrapping a bandage and securing it around his finger. He looks at you with wide eyes.

“Kiss it better for me?” he asks, jutting out his lower lip and extending his hand towards you.

“You wish.”

—

Taeyong and you become quick friends. If he comes in for a shift after you, he brings you ice cream. If the two of you close together, he walks you to your car. If you take a day off, Taeyong sends you pictures of Taeil sleeping.

He’s a great conversationalist as well. You learn a lot about him over the summer. He wanted to be a firefighter before falling in love with art, dancing and music. Now, he has a bachelor’s degree in visual art. He shows you videos of him dancing and lets you look through his sketchbook. He talks about his sister and how she’s just as kind as him. He tells you about his love of stars, and how he mediates on them as if they’re lost lovers.

Despite the warmth Taeyong’s eyes fill you with, there’s also an underlying sadness in them- stress beyond his years swimming beneath their sparkling glory. He doesn’t speak much of it, but you can feel it. You can also see that stress leaving his body everytime he cranks up the projector for the solar system presentation. His favorite planet is Saturn.

You’re quite fond of Taeyong. You realize this when you catch yourself staring at him on a particularly slow day. A few elderly couples have come to see the permanent exhibit in the front of the facility, but other than that, it’s just you and him here. Even Taeil has taken a day off, the sloth of summer’s near end seemingly blanketing the entire town. The day progresses in slow motion.

Taeyong’s sleeves are rolled up, exposing his arms. You study his tattoos, committing them to memory. His ever changing hair has been black for a few weeks now, which was a bit out of the ordinary for him. He looks a bit pedestrian, if that’s even possible, and not elven like his usually colorful hair makes him seem.

Despite the snail pace of the day, Taeyong is working way more than is actually necessary- always a self-starter and ready to please.

“Take a break, Taeyong. You’re gonna have a heat stroke.” The A/C unit is busted. Again. You’ve plugged in a few portable fans, but they’re not doing much.

“Inventory’s gotta get done eventually.” You’re enamored with the multitudes of Taeyong’s character. He’s often an easy going guy, but stern when it counts. Not a killjoy, or anything to that extent, just more upright than you’d assume at first glance. Such is the issue with assumptions; they’re just asking to be subverted.

You feel bad watching Taeyong lug around boxes by himself, so you push your laziness aside and begin helping.

“I got it,” Taeyong says.

You continue to lift a box, following him on the trek from the supply closet to the gift shop. “I know you’ve got it, but you’re gonna die if you carry all of these on your own.”

“I’m not gonna die,” Taeyong says, blowing a few strands of hair out his face as wobbles about.

“Tell that to the red flush covering your whole body, Superman.”

Taeyong huffs at you. “You’re so mean to me,” he says. There’s that lower lip again. It’s becoming your weakness, the more he pouts at you. Sometimes you tease him just to see it more often.

“Fine. Want me to stop?” you say, putting down the box you’re carrying. You pretend to walk off.

“No, don’t leave! I feel like I’m gonna die!” Tayong shrieks.

You deadpan at the cartoon of a human standing in front of you.

It’s a field trip day and the planetarium is packed. Unlike the usual, Taeil is actually helping, saying something along the lines of “all hands on deck” as if that doesn’t entail a total of six hands. The children stream in like a school of fish, neon summer camp shirts glowing in the bright sun. They’re beaming at one another, skipping and running around with boundless energy. Their liveliness sparks something in you, smiling so much that makes your cheeks hurt. What hurts more, however, is seeing how sweet Taeyong is with the kids. He takes the lead on showing them around the permanent exhibit, explaining the solar system and composition of stars and other space rocks. You watch from the back of the crowd, blaming the flush of your face on the temperature and not on the fact that Taeyong’s smile makes your breath hitch.

You should think he’s the nerdiest person in the world right now. This whole exchange would be great material to tease him with (-something about how he’s a softie and a loser or whatever). However, all you feel is a terrifying fondness taking over you, ripping at your chest as if it’d been ravaged by a lovesick wolf, its claw marks creating deep caverns where your heart lies. It fucking hurts how much you simply like him. You don’t even want to imagine- no, you can’t even imagine what’d it be like to fall in love with him.

One of the kids asks about Saturn and Taeyong nearly erupts with excitement. He talks in detail about its rings, tracing his fingers along the ridges of the replica of the planet. His eyes are sparkling, mirroring the faux stars above him.

When kids leave, you glance at Taeyong. A tired smile is plastered on his face and he contently sighs. “That was so much fun.”

“I’m not sure who enjoyed it more- you or the kids,” you state. Taeyong chuckles.

“Definitely me. I almost don’t wanna go home,” he says.

“Then let’s stay.”

After finishing your closing duties, you and Taeyong meet in the planetarium’s theater. In the center of the rows of seats is a projector.

“Lemme start the presentation,” he says, queuing up a video about Navajo astrology and constellations. “I’ve never actually gotten the chance to watch Southwestern Skies from the seats.”

After he presses play, the two of you sit right in the middle of the theater. The video comes to life on the dome shaped ceiling. Your jaw drops in wonderment, feeling less self conscious when you see that Taeyong’s mouth is also agape in your periphery. Then, you’re drifting in outer space with him, your seats floating away into the ether as you become completely absorbed into the stars that surround you. You rest your arm on the divider between your chairs, subconsciously inching your hand towards Taeyong’s. As it draws nearer, your desire to interlace his hand in your own grows. The nerve endings at your fingertips buzz. Taeyong is magnetic.

“This is my favorite part,” Taeyong whispers, awestruck. You try to break away from looking at him, to instead look at the display above you, but you can’t. Instead, you watch the stars in the reflection of his eyes.

The dome bursts with an explosion of stars as various constellations fade into view. Orion’s Belt, The Big Dipper, Libra and Virgo- Taeyong had told you about them in detail, insisting on thumbing through his astrology textbook as he explained. (He stole it from the library, leaving five bucks on the counter to rid himself of any lingering karma.) Finally, the Milky Way comes into view- referred to as It Waits for Dawn by the Navajo people. Taeyong audibly gasps.

“I think the whole thing is your favorite part," you tease.

“Mmm.” He nods in agreement.

Distantly, your mind wanders to how the summer is coming to a close. You’re not sure what will come of you and Taeyong’s friendship. You hope he won’t be a memory, or strangers like the two of you started as. You want him to be a fixture in your life- a constellation to familiarize yourself with and never tire of, even as the universe expands.

You realize you’ve been laying your head on Taeyong’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you move to sit up.

“It’s okay,” he says. Then, he places his hand on your head, guiding it back to his shoulder. “Unless your neck hurts, or something. Then, I won’t force you,” he adds hurriedly.

“No, no. It’s good. I’m good,” you say, returning your head to its original position. When the presentation ends, the lights in the theater automatically come up. Suddenly, the moment feels too intimate for daylight, and Taeyong must agree, because he’s tense. You can feel it in his shoulder, the anxiety radiating off of him in waves, but he doesn’t tell you to move, so you continue to rest your head on him

“Does the universe scare you? All the stars and planets and the unknown...” Taeyong says out of nowhere. Before you can respond, he says, “Ah, nevermind. Forget I asked.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as he backtracks.

“I like the question, silly!” You consider your answer for a moment, lost in thought. “ How infinite it is, yes. But the universe as a concept is very romantic. Like, philosophically speaking.”

“How so?”

You shrug. “It brought us together.”

“What a pretty thought,” he says.

Life’s a bunch of little universes sewn together. Self contained and finite worlds that exist within infinity. Like your summer with Taeyong- a blip in the grandeur of your life, simply due to how little time he’s spent in it. You want to sew a little bit more of him into your universe. To make him more than a blip. To make him your entire universe.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask suddenly, throwing caution to the wind.

“I’d like that,” he contends.

You lift your head from his shoulder and place a delicate peck to his cheek. Taeyong gently grasps your chin, guiding your face to his. He then kisses you on the lips, tenderly, his lips just barely grazing yours. The moment seems to stretch on for infinity, though only lasting a few minutes, and you make haste to sew it into the fabric of your memory.

a/n: unedited + feedback is always appreciated!

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong fic #taeyong fluff #nct 127 fic #lee taeyong #nct taeyong

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chbnews · 2 months

Note

(There is a shipping container delivered to the Delphi Strawberry store front addressed to camp half blood. The following letter and Manifest are atop the items within.)

To The Campers, Counselors, and Directors of Camp Half Blood (And Others if Present!),

We hope this delivery finds you well, I am Zachariah, of the Belmont Surplus Company. Within this crate you will find the following.

80 Samples of Kevlar and Tear-Proof Fabrics

20 Samples of Ceramic Armor Plates

18 Blade Molds

50 sets of First aid Field Kits.

30 Hiking Packs

10 Rucksacks

542 Morale Patches (Iron-On)

600 Country Flag Patches (Iron-On)

900 City Patches (Iron-On)

We hope you enjoy this sampler kit, the armors, fabrics, and Molds are for the Counselors/Campers/Directors/Whoever makes your armor and clothes. The bags and first aid kits are to be held for deployment of Quests or Medical Emergencies. The Patches can be distributed how you like. If you ever find yourselves stuck in Illinois, you can come shelter at our offices or warehouses near Peoria.

Stay safe, and if you need more give a holler!

Sincerely,

Zachariah Von Locke and the Belmont Surplus Crew.

(Also in the box are around six boxes of Finnish ration chocolates)

THANK YOU WHAT?? We’ll transport these to camp half blood swiftly, thank you for the support 🫶🫶 - Annabeth Chase 🦉

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo news #pjo fandom #pjo asks #pjo cabins #pjo spoilers #pjo series #pjo blog #pjo tv show

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ainsley2079 · 1 month

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Midnight- Park Jay (001)

Jay was looking at the mirror. He was eyeing himself. After he lost his family his mind seems to work in a whole different way. His mind is blaming himself for the death of his family.

It feels like his mind is trying to manipulate him. In his mind the person with the gun was him who was a little child that didn't know if the gun was real or not. He pulled the trigger to see if that gun was real. Because of him doing that his family died due to him. That's what his mind thinks.

Even though he knows that it is not the truth and his mind is thinking wrong things. Sometimes he wants to kill himself due to the guilt inside him. He tried to drown himself in water many times. But nothing worked.

He is cutting his hand making little cuts. The red blood makes him excited like a kid who is excited to have some candy. There is blood drops dropping from his hand to the ground. He is looking at the ground which is slowly being filled with the blood drops from his hand.

He sighed and took the first aid kit. He opened it and bandaged his cuts so that no more blood drops from it.

Jay went to put the first aid kit back at it's place. After some time he turned on the TV to see the news even though he is not interested. He saw the news about him again.

"Yesterday a dead body has been found in the Hands river. The body was pulled out of water when it was discovered. There was a tattoo of a black rose at the neck of the victim. Who is this person that has been killing people at midnight? What does the black rose mean? Did the victim do something to the killer that made the killer kill the victim? " The person on the news channel kept blabbering.

Jay turned off the TV annoyedly. Then he went to his room to open his treaured box which was full of the album pictures taken with his family when they were alive, some videos and clips of his family, some treasured items of his family.

He took out two lockets from the box. Both of the lockets had a half heart shaped on it. Just by looking at it he could remember his mom.

His mom was buying two lockets which had the half heart design on it.

"Mom why are you buying those lockets? " little Jay asked her as he was curious.

"Dear because the heart is divided into two halves when it is broken. It can mean that someone owns half piece of your heart or you own their half piece of heart. Besides whenever you fall in love with someone give one piece of this locket to that person to let that person to know that you love her" Jay's mom said.

Jay remembered his mother's words just by looking at the locket.

" Mom I don't think that I would have someone that I love truly. After you, dad and Jiyeon left from my life my life has been meaningless. It is like a dead flower without sunlight, water. And who would love a psycho like me? Obviously nobody " Jay said to himself as he chuckled sadly.

There was Chaeyun who was almost sleeping in her maths class. The maths class felt so boring for her. The teacher was blabbering some formulas and how to do the maths while she was almost dying. By the end of the class she knew that she was gonna fail in maths. Luckily the teacher didn't notice her sleeping.

"I don't understand Mathematics no matter how hard I try. To be honest why is Maths so hard? It makes me go through five stages of grief at once" Chaeyun muttered to herself.

Chaeyun looked at the clock seeing that there are two hours left until college hours ends. She has to wait patiently for these two hours to end so that she can finally go home. Her favourite place at college is the college gate because even though it is the place where she enters hell it is also the place where she leaves the hell named college.

After two hours finally it was time to go home. Chaeyun was happily walking to her home until she saw some couples at the nearby park. Those couples were holding hands, hugging, kissing at a public place not caring about what other's think. It made her feel disgusted. She looked away quickly.

"Can't they get a room for themselves? The park is a public place for everyone and here they are doing disgusting couple things. Being single while watching this makes me feel more single. I guess I was born just to be a third wheel" Chaeyun said to herself.

Chaeyun was too busy in her thoughts. She was not watching where she is going causing her to bump into a stranger making both of them almost fall on the ground. Luckily he caught her waist on time.

Jay was walking through the streets as he wanted to outside for a walk. The walk was going peacefully until he had to bump into someone causing both of them to almost fall. He almost cursed at her until he saw her face. Jay caught her waist on time so that she doesn't fall on the ground embarrassing herself.

'She seems familiar' Jay thought to himself.

Chaeyun quickly bowed to him and apologized for bumping into him.

"From next time watch where you are going instead of walking like a blind person on the streets" Jay said to her in a cold tone.

She looked back at him as he ignored her and started to go on his way back. Just by the first meeting she had already started to despise him because of his attitude. Chaeyun gave him a stern gaze as she tried to keep a poker face and rolled her eyes towards him.

#enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen yandere #enhypen × reader #enhypen #jay enhypen #midnights #park jongseong #park jay #jay imagines

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ritumistry11 · 1 year

Text

Wound Care Expert : Hansaplast is a trusted wound care expert. Hansaplast India offers wound & pain products like wound plasters, pain plasters, bandages & tapes.

#First-aid #first-aid-kit #first-aid-box-items

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xe-n4 · 9 months

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contrite & broken

feat. atsumu note: it was supposed to be cute...i got carried away contains: swearing, angst, more than likely ooc total: 761

You were in the middle of your nightly skincare routine when you heard a loud banging on the window in the living room. A sinking feeling sat in your chest as you wrapped your fingers around the bathroom handle, slowly opening it to peek through the slight gap. A dark figure paced back and forth on the fire escape, occasionally banging the window.

‘It’s okay,’ you told yourself, taking in a deep breath. You armed yourself with the nearest item, a comb, and slide out of the bathroom. At once, your heart rate picked up.

“Y/n? Y/n, open the fucking window. It’s fucking freezing out here,” the figure spoke.

“Atsumu?” You took a step out of your hiding spot and could get a full view of the figure, who was now sitting down and hunched over. You swore under your breath and moved to open the window to which he immediately climbed in.

“Fucking finally!” Atsumu said. “D’ya expect me to die out there?”

“Maybe.”

You closed the window and turned to see that he’s taken off his shoes and jacket and put his feet up on the coffee table. That familiar feeling of disgust piled up at the sight of his dishevelled appearance. Tousled hair, rumpled attire, and notably the bruises adorning his face.

“You need to stop getting into fights, Atsumu.” You went back to the bathroom to finish your routine before he could respond. When you entered the living room once more, Atsumu was clutching his side with his head thrown back in pain.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

“Then get out.”

Atsumu groaned, lifting the shirt above his head. “Jeez. Lighten up, will ya?”

You sat next to him with a first aid kit in hand, one you kept well stocked up because of this idiot. Once his shirt was off, you took the thinly covered ice pack to the darkly bruised areas. Atsumu watched you intensely. The care with which you touched him brought back those old feelings he tried hard to push down, rather it bloomed within him.

“How’d this happen?” you asked as you focused on the injuries on his face. Atsumu couldn’t stop himself from leaning into your touch, ignoring the question so he could be by your side again. “Answer me, ‘Tsumu.”

“I don’t think you wanna know. It’s not a pretty story,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes and went back to work, gently dabbing the cuts on his lip with a cold compress. Atsumu’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes. He didn’t want to let you go. He wasn’t ready. Not when he had everything to apologise for. He brought an arm around your waist and pulled you in. You leaned back and put the equipment back in the box and stood up. “Please leave.”

“Y/n, I—”

“Please. Just leave.” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked your eyes. It took all your might to not break down in front of him. Not again. You would never let him get close to you again.

He stood up as well and started moving towards you, but stopped when you took a couple of steps back. “I missed ya, Y/n…a lot.”

“I don’t want you here,” you said, feeling your voice slip away from you.

“‘m sorry,” he choked out. “I can’t excuse what I said. But I’m sorry. So sorry. Please.” He reached out a hand. “Please let me make it right.”

“You never reached out before. Why?”

“‘Cos I was fucking terrified.” He gulped. “I couldn’t bring myself to face ya. I’m sorry, I should’ve—I know I should’ve. Please forgive me.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him, seeing the torment in his brown eyes. However, you remembered the pain of that moment and how he broke you down. “‘Tsumu, I—I need time,” you started. You cleared your throat and looked away from him. “I need time.”

He nodded. Atsumu put his shirt back on and picked up his jacket. He glanced back at you before leaving the way he came in.

The moment he was out of sight, you collapsed to the floor and broke down in tears all over again. The pain you numbed became bright and pulsing, forcing you back in time and replaying every venom-coated word he spoke to break you down. Nausea washed over you and suddenly, you felt unclean and tainted once more. It crushed you to know you’d have to pick up the pieces of your broken heart from your living room floor.

m.list | like & reblog

#by xena #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #haikyuu x reader

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notelcol · 4 months

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Desert island item🏝️

✨Genshin edition✨

——-

Various Genshin characters go to a desert island. They are allowed one item each. Visions and in game weapons are banned.

——-

Scaramouche

A knife - To hunt animals or the humans he’s stuck with, depending on how annoying they became

Albedo

Sucrose - They would survey the island’s geology.

Wriothesley

A box of tea - He thirsty.

Beidou

Alcohol - She would turn it into a party.

Zhongli

A good book - Just because you’re stranded doesn’t mean you can’t read about the history of Teyvat.

Klee

Dynamite - Need I explain this one?

Mona

Tarot cards - She would get advice from the stars on how to get rescued.

Amber

A ball - She would want to bring something everyone could enjoy.

Ayaka

Spare socks - She wears socks to in water, she will want to change them or she will get trench foot.

Paimon

A sack of food - She will eat well no matter where she is.

Tighnari

First aid kit - He will fix everyone up.

Jean

Her paperwork - She can’t let herself fall behind.

——-

What would your item be? Would you choose something practical or personal? Leave your answer in the comments 🫶

Different to what I usually do🫣 If people enjoy then I will do more characters 🌷

Thank you for reading 💓

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alexiswritingstuff · 1 year

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Human. Pt 3.

Masterlist

Status: Complete.

Pairing: Castiel x gn! reader.

Other appearances; Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: After a long day, Castiel and the reader are back in the motel. Once the recently found wound had been fixed up, and healed in more ways than one, the new human is shown that he is truly safe.

Content/Warnings: fluff, descriptions of an injury, crying.

Other parts: one - two - three

A/N: ... I might have gotten carried away so this might just be a bit long... Also, I did read this over, but like any other post, be aware of spelling errors.

I hope you enjoy!

Tag list- @elizabeth-skywalker - @aliceblxck - @illusionesdecigs

(Gif source)

The moment that you had got out of the car, Castiel had insisted that the bags and boxes needed to be carried were divided evenly between the both of you. And that meant that when the door of the motel room was offically closed, a chorus of sighs exhaled through the quiet air.

The piles of the new items were now sprawled across the surface when they were placed on the table, and even on top of the drawer set, once there was no more space.

The relief from the lack of weight caused yet another sigh to, immediately, pass through your lips as you made your way through the room.

You ended up by the bed, and turned around at the last second before letting your body just simply collapse. Your back sunk into the mattress while Castiel flicked on a light.

“Okay,” you whispered after staring at the ceiling for a moment, and pushed yourself upright until you were in a sitting position.

Your finger pointed towards the man once he was located, “You,” you announced, and patted the spot beside you on the bed as you looked at him. He complied.

While Castiel did as asked and sat on the mattress, you had moved to the bottom of the bed where that duffle bag was, and began digging through it before pulling out the small first aid kit you had packed...

Just in case.

You put the kit on the bed, and unzipped it to reveal the contents, “All right, Cas,” you began once you had the required equipment, “I need you to...” The sentence you had to say fully processed in your mind upon making eye contact. And you paused, causing him to furrow his eyebrows. “What?”

“Uh,” You cleared your throat, “I-- Do you wanna, maybe, change into a t-shirt... or something? I need you to-- I need to access your wound.”

“I can’t, uh... I can’t reach it because of your long sleeves.”

Castiel looked down at his clothes. “Oh.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt thinking for a second, “Yes, of course. Sorry.” And with that, he began to pull off his jacket, slowly taking an arm out of the wrinkled material.

Though, when he got to the other one, there was a sound that spilt through his lips when the limb moved in a certain way. A sound, that you then realised, he had been making, and tried to hide from you, the entire day.

A wince.

“Oh, Cas,” you whispered under your breath. But the moment of pity was cut short after your eyes focused back on his movements. The red hoodie had been discarded meaning that he was left in the blue dress shirt.

He reached for the buttons.

Your eyes shifted within an instant, the air catching in your throat while you tried to focus on absolutely anything for a distraction... The only problem with that, however, was that you kind of needed to look at him to do your job.

So, after taking in a deep breath, to replenish your lungs, and also do a silent prayer, your gaze went back to where it was before.

The shirt was now gone.

As soon as Castiel started to turn his head in your direction, waiting for the next command, you had wanted nothing more than to turn your own away. But you didn’t. You sucked everything up, and simply sat back down in your previous spot.

Finally, your attention settled on the injured arm that now was pretty much bare, surprisingly, apart from a dressing that covered the wound.

It may have been a rag, and it may have been almost completely soaked in blood. But at least he knew what to do.

“Nice job, Cas.” you complimented, and began unwinding the material. Trying to be as gentle as you possibly could, even if this was the least painful part of the process.

And as you did so, there were quite a few times when the tips of your fingers would end up brushing against Castiel’s skin, which in return made his back instinctively straighten. Almost every single time.

“All right,” you breathed once the tattered rag had come loose, and pulled it off, throwing it into a bin that sat in the corner.

The hours of anticipation, anxiousness, and constant waiting was over. The wound that your mind had been practically obsessing over was revealed. And it glared right back at you.

The skin surrounding the laceration, that wasn’t smudged with the fiery substance, was raised. Irritation and inflammation clear across the surface.

The centre of it all was a mix of dried and fresh blood, about a day or so old. Some of it had almost been absorbed into his skin, but the rest had just clung. “Jeez...”

“Well, you’re lucky it didn’t get infected.”

After taking a second to glance at Cas, letting another deep breath filter through your system, your hands officially made contact with the bare skin to test the severity.

You were careful, making sure that your fingertips only grazed over the areas beside the wound, that felt warm to the touch. “So,” you began, not wanting the silence to take back its place, “You really are human, huh?”

He didn’t respond for a moment.

You couldn’t tell if it was because he was just thinking, or because he didn’t like the question. But soon his head nodded, a slight huff of air sifting through his lips, “I guess so.”

“Wow...” you breathed out in disbelief, “I-- I knew what happened, you know, when angels lost their grace, but I didn’t... I never really thought about the effects. The aftermath.”

Castiel hummed in response, “Well... You’re not the only one.”

You leaned back for a moment, rubbing your fingers together, before you reached for the duffle bag again and this time, you pulled out a cloth.

With a mild grunt, you pushed yourself back off of the bed, and made your way towards the bathroom. Stopping at the sink.

You twisted the tap with the red circle, let the water run until it gave off a good amount of heat, soaked the cloth in it, and then turned it off again. The remaining drops splattered into the sink bowl as you wrung out the liquid trapped in the linen.

Castiel’s eyes were already aimed in your direction by the time you walked through the bathroom door again. He watched as you approached with the cloth, and continued as you sat down beside him. “Alright.”

“Take a deep breath for me,” you instructed, and after he did so, his back straightening up once again. The damp linen touched down.

The cleaning process first started around the edges of the wound. It definitely wasn’t the worst part, but every movement had your eyes flickering up to search his face for any trace of pain.

“What even happened anyway?” you questioned once your attention had fully fixated on the injury. “Did you steal something? Play a trick on a person who couldn’t take a joke?”

Castiel scoffed, “No,” His face twitched when the cloth hit a tender spot, “No, no, I... I guess I just trusted the wrong person.”

The comment broke your focus yet again as you looked back up to find his face, however, you found that he had turned his head away.

Now, Cas was just staring into the distance while he fiddled with his hands. An attempt to distract himself from both the stinging sensations and the attention.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Trusting the wrong person ended with you getting attacked with a knife?” you questioned in a way that you hoped was jokey, and flipped over the cloth to use the other side.

Castiel sucked in a breath, sort of stretching his neck to the side when his brain fixated too much on the feelings on his arm. “That is always possible, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t there a saying... ‘Stranger danger’?”

You huffed a laugh, lightly shaking your head at the remark. And then Cas managed a full sigh. “But, uh... It wasn’t just that, it was... vanity.”

Once again, the amusement felt had been sucked right back. And when you went to look at him, this time, he eyes were directed at the floor. A form of reluctance shifting through his demeanour.

Your brows furrowed again when he continued. “I thought I was more important, more effective than I am-- That I could... fix everything that happened.” He took in a deep breath, letting his eyes flicker about the room before starting to talk again.

“Now all I can do is keep running.”

Earlier, you had commanded him to give you the details. All of your own worries and concerns had blinded you from his own. But in that moment, as you looked at him, it seemed that your mind hadn’t fully prepared itself to receive it.

The guilt, shame, regrets. All of which purely seeped through his words, and across his features. He looked drained. Again.

After looking at the man for another second, you placed the cloth to the side, beginning to rummage through your duffle bag, that you now brought to your side, to find a towel.

“This’ll probably still hurt.” you informed with a quieter voice, avoiding his eyes when you felt them being aimed in your direction.

It was like you could feel everything that he did.

Obviously, it wasn’t to the same extent. But every time you saw that look on his face, heard the way he spoke, it engrained itself into your mind. Affected you.

“You know,” You cleared your throat, thinking of a way to distract both him and yourself, “Besides the... altercation, and the injury,”

“I hope the human experience hasn’t been that bad.”

“I’m-” Castiel words became a grunt before he could finish his sentence. The towel had touched down on the wound, causing the air, that he had once let out, to suck right back.

“I’m adjusting.” he managed out once, slightly, more used to the patting sensation, “... Though I must admit, it is all still very new.” Cas held onto his hand with his other one, letting his fingers squeeze at his palm in hopes to gain concentration.

“The hunger. Cold. Tiredness.” he recounted, and sucked in another breath the moment the words stopped. “This... This feeling.” His head shook. “Being all alone.”

Your fingers stilled.

The gaze that was once fixated on his wound had raised to his face yet again, and you caught that deep look in his eyes that seemed to remain. No matter how hard you tried to shake it. “You feel alone?”

Castiel blinked for a second as though he had been caught in his mind, and turned to meet your concerned expression.

“Oh, not now,” He insisted, looking into your eyes long enough to prove his sincerity. And then he turned away, staring into the distance with a quiet sigh. “Not exactly, but... The past few days, I have truly felt it.”

There it was. That guilt. An emotion so powerful that it would sink right down to the bottom of your stomach within a heartbeat. And as you looked at Cas, it felt faster than ever.

Loneliness is something that can devour a person before they even notice. It’s a thing that follows you regardless of where you go; it digs deep into your skin, into your soul.

And it’s a feeling that no one deserves to feel.

Especially Castiel.

You left your eyes on him for a few more seconds, an exhalation of air leaving through your nose, before you began searching through the first-aid kit.

“You know,” you finally spoke, and picked up a roll of bandages and a dressing pad, before turning back to your previous position while taking them out of their packaging, “Whenever I had a minute to spare... I would spend it looking for clues on your whereabouts. Try to piece them together.”

“It turned out to be a lot more difficult than I thought, to be honest,” you added on, mildly shaking your head at the memory, “I mean, you just... You would just disappear.”

“I searched through the town’s closest to where you made that phone call, you know?” You glanced at him, trying to see if he remembered, before focusing on the bandage, “I kept asking people if they had seen a man in a... Columbo looking trench coat.”

When there was a good amount of the bandage unravelled, you were quick to begin the final stage of cleaning a wound. “Though, I guess that plan kind of fell through when you got those new clothes, huh?”

You placed the pad on the laceration as lightly as you could, and used your other hand to drape the covering over it.

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You didn’t do anything, Cas. It’s fine.” you pointed out almost lazily, due to being caught up in moving the bandage. Castiel lifted his elbow so that you could circle the strip around his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

However, that focus seemed to shift pretty quickly.

Your movements slowed within seconds. Finally catching onto the tone of his voice, which meant that now, your gaze landed back on his face.

And he was looking right back at you.

You blinked for a moment, “What... What-- Cas, no.” Your head shook as you leaned back a little, still holding onto the bandage so that it didn’t undo your progress, “Listen to me, all right? I-- I’m that one that should be sorry.”

Castiel sort of copied your movement. His brows were now the ones to furrow as he looked at you in pure confusion, “But you didn’t do anything wrong.” he stated like it was the simplest thing ever.

“Cas, the reason you were out here so long, in the first place, was... It was basically because of me.” you insisted as an audible reminder, but the only thing it did was make Castiel shake his head, especially when you continued.

“I mean, I got so absorbed in the stuff with Sam that I-- Cas, I didn’t even realise that you were in danger until we got back to the bunker.” Your eyes were narrowed as you looked back at him, disbelief pulsing through your body at his continuous dismissals.

“Even after your call.” you added on. Another attempt to make him see what you did... But he didn’t. “Which is understandable.” He shrugged his bare shoulders, the words from his lips flowing with such softness that had you leaning back a little.

“No, man, come on,”

It was almost as if you were irritated at this point. The confusion, doubt, disbelief, seemed to merge together through your blood stream. The answer, as to why it was doing so, however, was a little unclear.

It wasn’t like you wanted him to tell you off, get mad, or shout. He just needed to stop forgiving so easily. So simply.

He had previously talked about trust; how he ends up putting it onto the wrong person. However, when it came to you, he would forget about it. Had this idea in his mind where you could do no wrong.

“I don’t think I need to remind you of what you went through, but-- As a person in my life, as a... friend, there is an obligation, for me, to help when needed.” you started again.

Castiel had shaken his head yet again, “You had more important things--”

“Cas, listen to me.” Your words were sharp. The speed that they cut through their air caused the mans mouth to hang open for a second, his sentence just holding onto his tongue.

You looked back and forth between his eyes, a feeling of guilt pulsing through your chest at the expression on his face.

And then you took in a deep breath, now attempting to avoid his heavy gaze by beginning to weave the other end of the material around the injured limb. “Look,”

“What I’m trying to say is that... I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when this happened-- When this first started.” you confessed through the most sincere voice that you could muster, “I am sorry that I wasn’t there to help you the moment that you needed it, and I am so... so sorry that you had to go through what you did, alone.”

You began at one end of the bandage, pulling at it for further tightness before tucking the material under the previous layers. The same being done on the other side.

Your fingers now pressed against it while you turned to grab the medical tape. You got an end loose and tugged at the strip, beginning to fully secure the dressing.

“Cas, just... You don’t have to apologise for worrying me, all right?” you insisted in an attempt to break the weighted silence, and let out a sigh only moments later, “Especially when it was the thing that made me find you.”

The last bit of tape was stuck to the edge of the dressing. Your fingers lightly pressed along the strips, making sure that it was actually doing its job.

And then your hands pulled away.

“There,” you breathed out, letting your eyes scan across your work for any faults; things you needed to fix. But there was none.

“All done.”

Within the next second, the various items, that had been used throughout the process of cleaning Castiel’s wound, were rounded up into your arms. The single use ones were then thrown into the bin, and next you found yourself in the bathroom.

“You know, the scratches on your cheek seem to be healing just fine on their own,” you began, throwing the damp cloth into the sink before moving to put the towel over the rack on the wall.

“I don’t think I need to put anything on it,” You went back through the door, “But, I’ll make sure to...”

The words you were going to speak had faded the moment you had found Castiel through the dark room. Your body had halted once again; taking time to process what was being seen.

In your position, there was a ray of light that hit his eyes in a certain way. It was completely unintentional, and a thing that you had almost missed, but it allowed you to see the substance that shimmered across his waterline.

Tears.

Your sudden silence caused Cas to realise that you had noticed that particular fact, so he turned his head to the side. Sniffing as he did so.

It was a movement he had always seen other people do since his first time on earth.

When people were sad; upset by something or crying, they would try so hard to hide it. They would call it weak, as if what they were experiencing wasn’t something that humans were supposed to feel.

Though, in this moment, that wasn’t just the reason that he did the same, no. In this instance, it was also because he thought that he didn’t deserve the consolation that would come after. The comfort.

Your feet were moving before your mind, and you found yourself retaking your place, by his side, on the bed. “Cas.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, the concern flooding through everything that it could. And this time, when your hands moved to touch his warm skin, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.

You reached over to the other side of his face. Castiel had wiped away a loose tear by the time your fingertips had made contact with the lower part of his jaw. An attempt to avoid the scratches carved into the flesh of his cheek.

Finally, once you had pulled his head to turn in your direction, your eyes were met with the oceans that begged to spill. Your eyebrows instantly pinched together.

The utter pain was the most evident it had ever been, despite how hard he tried to resist it. And it was a sight that hit you directly in the heart.

Your other hand raised to his opposite cheek, and you just held him there while you mustered up the most sincere look, that you could, across your features, “You aren’t alone, Castiel.”

“Not anymore.”

The words rung through the silent room. Echoed through Castiel’s ears over and over again.

He tried to stifle his reaction to them, even trying to nod his head, that was in your hands, in an attempt to dismiss the pure feeling that surged through his body. But the longer he looked into your eyes, felt the genuineness, the more his lips wobbled.

And soon, the dam wall had cracked.

A sob had spilled into the quiet air.

Castiel’s body had began to hunch over, leading you to loosen your hands, and his head landed on your shoulder. His arms encasing your waist with a certain quickness; Desperation.

A craving for physical contact.

The movement was so quick that you almost didn’t know what to do at first, but eventually you found your own arms looping over his.

Your hands gently rubbed circles across his bare back, “It’s okay. It’s all right, Cas.” You would repeat after a set amount of seconds had passed, trying to console him in any way that you could.

His body was practically sagging in your hold. He was exhausted, the past few days seeming to weigh on him all at once, and the sobs that wracked through him weren’t exactly helping. He needed to relax.

You sat there for a few minutes. Just clinging onto Cas while you flicked through the countless thoughts in your mind, trying to think of anything that would soothe his burdening mind. Or at least act as a distraction.

What would people do, or use to make themselves feel better, that was right here in this motel room? What was something that would equally use up Castiel’s focus, and bring him enjoyment at the same time?

That was when you remembered a certain electronic packed away in your bag.

“Hey, Cas,” you started quietly, feeling his arms tighten, just slightly, around your waist, “You know, sometimes, when people need to take their mind off of things, they like to watch stuff.”

“How would you feel about doing that, hmm?”

Your hand continued to rub across the skin of his back, that was surprisingly smooth. By now the cries, that previously rocked both his body and your own, had reduced to sharp breaths that would suck through either his nose or his mouth.

For the most part, it seemed like he was beginning to calm down.

“We can sit right here on this bed, eat a bunch of snacks that we’ll probably regret tomorrow, and watch whatever you want-- I mean, there are a lot of cool movies you haven’t seen yet, right?” You lightly shrugged the shoulder that his head lay on to make sure that he was in fact listening.

“I think it would also help with understanding Dean’s references.”

At that, Castiel huffed air through his nose, and slightly ducked down until his forehead was against your collarbone, “That would-- That would be helpful.” he mumbled after a moment.

Your eyebrows raised, “Yeah?” you questioned, wanting to hear that voice of his again. However, this time he only hummed as a response.

“All right then,” Your fingers began to graze up across his bare skin until they landed on the sides of his head. You gently pushed at it, waiting for his face to be seen before your hands took back their place on his jaw.

“Take a deep breath for me.” you insisted when his eyes had focused on your own, and after looking back and forth between them, he did exactly that. Letting his shoulders sink when the air exhaled out of his lips.

The tips of your fingers wiped at the water trails that clung to the rough surface, and you smiled lightly before taking your hands away.

In utter reluctance, you untangled yourself from the man’s body so that you could move to stand up instead. And once on your feet, your journey to the table had begun, a sniffing Castiel watching your every move while he wiped at the stuff under his nose.

“What are you doing?” he asked when the rustling of plastic bags suddenly echoed through the room, but instead of responding, a disgruntled sigh passed through your lips.

Prompting yet another question from the man. “What’s wrong?”

Your head shook lightly as you took a step back from the various items, raising your hands to rest on your hips, “We don’t have the snacks.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. “But... Didn’t we get some earlier?” You waved your hand in his direction. “Yeah, but those are generic, everyday snacks,” you explained, and moved to the chair your jacket was on before grabbing it. “When you are watching a movie, Cas,”

“You need the best kind.”

The sleeves slid across your arms, one after the other, until they had fully fitted to your shoulders. Castiel’s eyes widened, only a little, as he watched.

“What are you doing?” he questioned again, this time with a little more urgency that you were too caught up, with digging through your pockets, to notice, “There’s a shop downstairs,” you responded almost nonchalantly while continuing your search for loose coins.

And by the time about half a handful of change was located, you had made your way to the door, your fingers meeting with the cool metal of the handle, “Okay, I’ll be like ten minutes--”

“Wait.”

Your body had twisted back round almost immediately, looking back where the man previously sat. Though, when your eyes arrived, you found that he was now stood up.

You sort of stared at him for a moment, your hand still on the handle, as you tried to understand the problem; what you had done wrong.

There was this sort of desperation that displayed itself across any feature Castiel had. Something that was only amplified by his hand that looked as if it was attempting to reach out, but he moved it back towards him by the time your eyes found it.

It hit you in an instant.

Castiel, a person that had been cast out by his own brothers and sisters, had been deprived of any comfort for days on end. He had gone through absolute shit, time after time.

Then you suddenly appeared.

You took him in, took care of him, bought stuff for his benefit, consoled him more than anyone has in his entire life...

And here you were, trying to leave.

The man in front of you looked ashamed the longer your eyes analysed him. So, instead of reacting to the accidental outburst, you simply took in a deep breath, letting go of the handle.

“Do you know how to use a shower?”

The random question was so out of place that Castiel, at least for the time being, had forgotten about his heart that beat rapidly in his chest. He tilted his head a smidge, like he usually did, his eyebrows furrowing once again.

“No,” he sniffled, “No, I... never had the chance.” His eyes then narrowed as you moved further away from the door. “Why?”

“Tell you what,” you began instead, “I’ll teach you how to do it.” Your hands raised back to your hips. Castiel’s confusion remained across his face.

“You can go in, do your thing, change into... at least something-- And by the time you’re done. I’ll be right back here.”

His gaze slightly lowered as he contemplated your suggestion. It wasn’t something he had to do much thinking about, due to the fact that he knew you very well and what it meant when you said such a thing.

So, by the time you had parted your lips, saying yet another thing to persuade him in the most unmalicious way. “Like I said, it will take ten minutes-- Fifteen at most.”

He had made up his mind.

His chin slightly lifted as he looked at you, a breath of air filtering through his nostrils while you watched with raised eyebrows; intrigued. And then finally. Castiel nodded his head, almost timidly. “Okay.”

A smile tugged at your lips, but you didn’t want to make him embarrassed. So within the next second, you tilted your head in the direction of the bathroom and began to walk towards it, gesturing the man to follow.

“Come on, then.”

Finally, the shop, and hopefully the last, had been complete. This time, only one bag left the store with you as you walked back through the entrance.

The fresh, night air engulfed your body in an instant once outside, urging you to take a chance to properly breathe it into your lungs.

By now, the last remnants of the sun had officially disappeared from the sky. Which meant that a fully rich, dark blue blanket took its place, consuming almost everything that lay beneath it.

You walked round the corner of the building, a bundle of emotions rolling within your stomach, that only got more intense, as the door to your motel room came into view.

At this point, you were stood at the bottom of the staircase. Your feet stilled, your shoulders raising and lowering as you attempted to compose yourself. The hand that held the bag sort of flexed, balling into a fist, which lead the handle to dig into the creases of your fingers.

And then you raised your leg, the grip of your shoe so close to landing on the metal step--

Something in your pocket vibrated. And then again... and again.

With a sigh, you planted the lifted foot back onto level ground, stepping back from the staircase to let someone else go up instead.

Your free hand dug into the pocket of your trousers, and only pulled back out once the device had been located. And when the phone was properly held, one of your fingers pressed the button on the side of it.

The screen lit up, your eyes finding the plethora of messages that littered across your home screen; stuff from both Sam and Dean.

“Uh oh.”

They weren’t exactly frantic, but as you scrolled, it had gone from check up texts to about 3-4 missed calls each. It had been so long since you were last in the bunker.

Before you could continue that train of thought, the phone that had almost faded from your attention abruptly rang through the silence and echoed throughout the complex. “Jesus Christ!”

Dean’s name and the response options pulsated across the screen while you recovered from a near heart attack.

You tapped the green button, lifting the phone to your ear while you moved against the wall beside the stairs. You cleared your throat, “Dean?”

“Y/n, hey! Why the hell haven’t you been answering me?” His voice sounded exactly as you had expected: urgent and full of worry. “I’ve been messaging you for hours, and so has Sam-- You just went ghost mode.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you began in acknowledgement, rubbing at your forehead in embarrassment with the hand that held the bag, “Look, sorry man, I’ve, uh... been a little occupied... Okay-- I genuinely did forget.”

Dean sighed. And although you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he was shaking his head, “Did you find Cas at least?”

“I did... I did, yeah. He’s up in our motel room, but I’m, uh, I’m outside right now,” You looked at the bag, rustling it slightly, “Just picked up some extra stuff.”

“So... you’re staying the night then?”

The reminder of the conversation in the kitchen had you mentally cursing yourself. You leaned further into the wall, “Yes... Yes, I am.”

The line went silent for a hot minute, and you squeezed your eyes shut, now annoyed at yourself for not only losing track of time, but also for not texting the boys, that get very antsy when you don’t.

Surely, you knew this by now.

“How’s uh... How are things with Sam?” you questioned in an attempt to change the subject. And it seemed to work as a clear of a throat pierced through the speakers of your phone, “Uh, it’s working... ish.”

“Definitely, gonna give me whiplash soon, but, uh...” Dean huffed out air in a way that had your eyebrows furrowing, “Look, Y/n, I... Ezekiel confirmed that there are angels trying to find Cas.”

“You’re kidding.” Your hand, with the phone in it, raised so that the back of it could rest against your forehead, that was getting warm to the touch despite the cold air.

“Man, I wish I was, I really do. But there is this group-- This faction, in his words, and... Y/n, it’s growing.” Dean explained slowly, hesitance evident in his voice. Your head sunk backwards until it hit the wall.

“They want Cas found.”

The phone was brought back to your ear, yet another sigh passing through the quiet air, “Do we know who they are? Is it Naomi?”

“No, I asked... Ezekiel said that he has never heard her name.”

“Oh, come on, man.”

Of course, you already knew that this was going to happen; throwing everyone out of heaven wasn’t exactly something that could be moved on from quite easily. I mean, it was Metatron’s doing, as Castiel had merely been tricked.

But they didn’t seem to see it that way.

“How’s he doing.” Dean’s voice rang back through your ears, more lightly; thoughtful.

“Uh... I mean, he’s-- he’s human, that’s for sure.” you confirmed, a breathy laugh following after as your body sunk back further, “I watched him practically stuff an entire sandwich in his mouth today, it was...” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Honestly, it was impressive.”

“Seriously,” Dean snorted, “Man, I wish I got to see that.” he added on, though it had your head shaking within seconds. “No, I promise-- You do not.” And now the two of you had broken into laughs.

There was an image so clear in your mind; Castiel sat in his chair, stuffing that sandwich into his mouth. He had just pulled it away, taking a moment to actually chew, but it revealed this line of peanut butter and jelly that surrounded his mouth. Almost as if it was purposeful.

Despite everything that had happened to him, in that moment, there was contentment. Happiness. And after thinking about how close that feeling was to being taken away, the amusement had died.

“Dean,” you called through the phone, though by the time he answered, you hadn’t a clue as to what you were going to say. “I...”

Your eyes stared straight ahead, zoning into the treeline that was pure darkness, “I’m scared.”

“Y/n.”

“I mean, he’s- Dean, he’s not an angel anymore, you know? He’s still adjusting, and... if we run into them-- If he gets hurt by one of those blades--”

“Y/n, stop it-- Just stop, okay? We are doing the best that we can in our positions, so just...” Dean let out another sigh, his sudden outburst clearing your thoughts for at least a second. “Listen. Ezekiel tuned into angel radio today.”

“That means that they are still looking-- But more importantly, it means that you still have time... Okay?”

All of this felt so stupid.

This entire idea was yours, and truthfully, you didn’t regret it. But the way that you planned it, the way that things played out, meant that you would be doing it all alone; having to protect an angel from his own kind.

You had no clue where to start.

“... Okay.” You had finally responded, though the acceptance wasn’t truly there. Dean’s voice softened the next time he spoke, “Y/n, I assure you that being there tonight, with Cas, is enough for now.”

“We can meet up at some point, but Ezekiel... He says that he’s in danger around Cas, you know, In case the angels find him too-- I’m not really sure what that means, but...” He took in a breath, inhaling back all the air he had lost while speaking. “Either way, you just... We’re gonna to have to wait a bit before--”

“Dean?”

You could recognise that voice anywhere.

“Is that Y/n?”

“Oh, no... No,” Dean spoke slowly, and pulled the device away from his ear. A sort of rustling then crackled through your speakers, which you could only assume was from him covering his own. “It’s uh...” he continued, dragging out the sound while he tried to think of something.

“It’s one of the guys checking in from the-- the case, yeah, uh... Apparently forgot to do it earlier.”

There were shuffling sounds; materials grinding under shoes. And then Sam cleared his throat. “Oh... okay.”

Dean moved the phone back to its original place, his body, probably, turned away from his brother at his point, “Hey, yes, sorry about that-- I’m glad we could help.” he insisted, and you huffed a laugh, though you still felt bad about Sam.

“Well, good night, Dean... I’ll text Sam tomorrow, so don’t worry about lying after this.” Dean simply sniffed, “All right, thank you.” still playing into his lie.

“Talk to you later then,” You readjusted the bag in your grasp, readying yourself as your gaze landed back on the door to your room, “And take care of yourself, please.”

“Yeah... Yeah, you too. Have a-- Have a good night.”

And with that.

You hung up.

Somehow, the door closing behind you was one of the most comforting sounds you had heard all week, “Hey,”

“I’m back,” you called, turning on your feet and peering into the bag of goodies as you listed them off, “Got the snacks, some drinks, and some painkillers... Might need them later.”

You looked up as you moved to the table, planning to put the bag amongst all the others, “I hope I didn’t take too...” Though, your movements never panned out.

There, stood on the other side of the bed, was Castiel.

“Long.”

His hands were held behind his back. The expression on his face almost frozen despite the way he seemed to look back and forth between you and the bed. And that’s when you followed his eyeline.

It was your duffle bag. Opened.

Your chin raised slightly, “Were you... What were you doing?” you questioned. Castiel clears his throat, his gaze flickering more intensely. “Nothing.”

“Cas.”

“... Okay, fine.” he huffed out, bringing his arms round his front so that he could hold his hands together, “I was, uh, I was hungry.”

Your eyebrows furrowed almost instantly, just staring at him for about one more second before you slowly pointed to the left with your free hand. At the table covered in various food items.

Castiel lowered his head a little, “I, uh... I wanted another sandwich.”

You were still beyond confused, but the last thing Cas probably needed was to feel like he was being interrogated. So, you dropped it, shaking your head as you placed the new bag with the others.

Your hands grabbed at the front of your jacket, and you lifted it up, unhooking it from around your shoulder. Your movements seemed to slow when your eyes flickered back to Cas.

By the time, the sleeves had been pulled off of your arms, you found yourself almost frozen in place, realising that he in fact took a shower. Which was evident by the damp hair that clung to certain parts of his forehead.

He looked so different.

The stubble that you, almost, could’ve consider as a beard had been shaved away, and it brought back the Cas you had seen from day one. More importantly, though, the man was now in fact wearing a shirt... and new trousers.

He had changed in more ways than one.

“Are you staying in that?” you questioned, hanging your jacket back on the chair it was previously on. Castiel let out a sigh as you looked back at him.

His arms went limp by his sides, his eyes now downcast in what appeared to be shame. “It looks bad, doesn’t it.” he found himself saying through a breath, even though he had never been concerned about his looks before.

“Oh... no.” you mumbled out as your brain processed his movements a little too slowly. Your eyes widened within the next second, “No! No, no, no, Cas, you look.” you paused, a smile even curling at your lips as you scanned over the attire, “You... look great, actually.”

You cleared your throat, “But, uh... Sorry-- What I meant was that, you know... You’re dressed rather formal.” Your fingers scratched at the back of your neck, “We’re only going to be watching a movie.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, giving his outfit a once over before he met with your eyes again, “I thought this was what people wore for activities like this?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess they do, but that’s usually when people are going on a...” You let your words fade away the moment you realised the end of the sentence, and the confusion deepened on Castiel’s face. “On a what--”

“Listen,” you started up, clearing your throat once again, “I was only asking because I was going to change into my pyjamas.” You shrugged, “I just thought you were gonna do the same.”

“I... I don’t think I have pyjamas.”

Your lips formed into a line, a moment of stupidity about to hit you in the face...

However, your eyebrows suddenly raised. One of your fingers pointed, indicating that you had just thought about something.

Though, instead of giving any sort of ease to Castiel’s ever-growing confusion, you simply made your way towards the bed, and tugged the duffle bag to your side once there.

You had rummaged through the bag for about fifteen seconds before your hands returned, an item held in either one: a shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms. “This is my old set.”

“I bought a new one today, so you can use these... Unless you want that one?” you inquired, and Castiel sort of looked at you for a moment before he focused on the clothes, taking them into his hands.

“No, that’s...” he began almost absently, and then his eyes met yours once again, a new expression displayed across his features. You could only stare at his as he spoke, “I don’t... I don’t know how to thank you properly, Y/n-- I-- I don’t... I don’t think the words itself would do it justice.”

“This day. Your company, your... kindness is more than I’ve had in a while.” Castiel shook his head lightly, and his brows knitted together as he recalled the past few hours, “I enjoy it very much.”

You blinked for a good few seconds, taking in the genuineness that beamed from the person in front of you... And then you avoided his gaze, a sort of timidness washing through your body.

“It’s just pyjamas,” you practically mumbled, feeling the heat rise across your skin, which lead your nails to scratch at your neck again. Castiel smiled.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable,” he insisted through a voice that failed to hide its amusement, and your eyes shot back to his instantly, finding the way his lips had quirked up along his word.

Your head shook for a moment, “Yeah, whatever, just-- Okay, you can take the bathroom to get changed, I’ll just...” You let out a sigh, “I will change out here.”

Castiel tilted his head at a thought the passed through his mind, and though his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, his smile had only widened. “I hadn’t realise just how much you and Dean couldn’t take a compliment--”

“Okay, you can go now-- Just go, get changed!”

You were sat on the bed. The only light source in the room was the lamp on the table to your left, and the bright screen of the laptop that shone into your face.

In the minutes that had passed, you had not only changed into your new set of, very comfy, clothes, but also managed to fill multiple decent sized bowls with various different snacks.

Meanwhile, a certain person was still in the bathroom.

“Cas?” you called out, your fingers continuing to type away at the keyboard to locate a decided streaming service. There was a muffled grunt in response.

“You all right in there?”

There was a pause, some slight shuffling, before a sigh murmured through the cracks of the door. “Yes... Yes, I am, just...”

When he couldn’t find the words, the lock under the handle had clicked. And soon, the wood that blocked your view of the man had slowly began to open.

Castiel took a step forward the moment the door had swung as far is it could. His body looked rigid, almost like the way that a plastic doll was, as his arms were practically frozen by his sides.

Your eyes scanned over the new appearance, your attention completely abandoning the laptop in front of you within seconds. You had seen him in different clothes, than the usual trench coat, earlier today, so it shouldn’t have been that strange.

But apparently you still weren’t used to it.

“Well... There you go, man,” you managed out after blinking for a second, and then met his tense gaze, patting the space on the bed beside you to get him to come closer.

Your eyes never left him, even when he complied to your request. “Is it... Is it okay? I mean, it’s probably a strange feeling, right?” you questioned almost nonchalantly as Castiel had got to his side of the bed.

He lowly hummed in response, and finally took a seat on the bed, though it was practically on the edge as his legs hung over the side, “It is... But I must say, it does feel very comfortable.”

“Good,” you insisted with a light smile, moving to the side just a tad when you noticed his current position. “That’s one of the main reasons that people sleep in it.”

Castiel nodded his head slowly. “Well,”

“I understand now.”

The browser on your laptop had now loaded, and the music that droned along the title screen took away your chance at making a comment. As the movie was about to begin.

Within seconds, you shuffled over even more, and placed the laptop between the two of you before angling it down while the various names faded in and out of view across the screen.

By now, Castiel had officially lifted his legs onto the mattress. He was slightly leaned over, his eyes scanning back and forth over the unfamiliar images with the usual gaze he had when watching stuff. Even if it was just showing the people that were featured.

“You know, the boys really like these movies,” you started up, causing his eyes to snap towards yours, as if he had forgotten you were even there. “I think if you made references from this, they would be pretty surprised.”

“We’ll at least have a great conversation starter when we can meet up.”

Castiel’s brows rose, his head nodded once, and then again, while he eyed the screen, making sure that the movie hadn’t actually started yet. “Noted.”

And then he leaned back, settling into the headboard, like you had, as he held his hands together.

“Do you know when we will be seeing them?”

You turned to him slowly while the intro music began to play. The first scene.

There was this hopeful look on his face. One that purely showed how desperate he was to see his friends. You wanted to give him good news, or even just lie, so badly because he deserved good news more than anything.

But there was no way you could lie to a face like that. You shook your head, no matter how bad it was going to make you feel, “No.”

“No, I don’t.”

And there it was. That disappointment.

Castiel had tried to play it off as he looked back to the screen with a nod of his head, even squinting his eyes to give off the look that he was paying attention to whatever was happening on it.

But it could still be seen.

You internally sighed. The commotion from the movie blared through the speakers of the laptop as you turned, grabbing the first bowl of food from the bedside table to your left.

“Here.” you spoke after clearing your throat, and brought the bowl between the two of you, while making sure that none of the popcorn would fall over the edges.

Castiel, who was actually paying attention to the movie by now, turned to the strange looking stuff with the same squinted eyes. Though, when he focused on it longer, they seemed to widen.

“This is one of the things we eat when watching a movie.”

The first two of the trilogy had been finished. You had answered any questions, explained difficult plot points, and even pointed out little Easter eggs along the way, while the amount of snacks began to diminish.

Castiel had propped up the pillow to sit behind both of your backs for better support, and now he sat, truly comfortably, as he zoned into the scenes that played throughout the screen.

It was an incredible thing to witness.

Castiel just looked at things so intently if he didn’t quite understand. He would try to figure out anything and everything that happened, regardless of how minor of an effect it had on the storyline. Which was the same even with the background characters.

He would ask, or just say, the first things that came to his mind while maintaining his focus on the screen, and you always had to stifle a laugh before responding, due to the abruptness.

In truth, you had probably watched him more than you did the movie.

Though, when it had gotten to the third part of the film series. That is when the atmosphere had really changed.

This time, whenever Castiel said anything. Instead of the genuine moments of wonder, his words were slower. He would pause at the start of a sentence, as if he had to find it somewhere in his head before he could actually say it.

“Did you see that? In the background?” you questioned, enthusiastically pointing at a particular thing part of the screen, “That guy was drinking out of a plastic bottle, I mean--- How did the editors not...”

Your head had turned towards Cas, wanting to see if he shared the same amusement or had even seen what you were talking about.

But instead, what you saw in front of you seemed to shift your interest.

Castiel’s body was sort of slumped over, his head slightly bobbing every few seconds, as his brain hadn’t fully decided whether it was going to shut off or not.

“Cas?”

As to not scare the shit out of him, your voice was quieter this time, a mix of amusement, and concern, flurrying through your body in response to the way he sat.

“Hmm?” His eyes snapped open, “Oh, I, uh... It went by too fast.” Castiel murmured, his words coming out in more of a mumble than anything else, as he blinked rapidly, trying to push himself into a sitting position. “I missed it.”

“You know we can stop if you’re tired, right?” you pointed out, and Castiel shook his head within seconds, lazily, waving his hand. “No... No, I-- I want to watch this-- I am watching this.”

Despite his previous attempts at moving his body, Castiel had sunk right back to where he was before, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the screen again. Though, he might have been adjusting to the light.

Your head nodded slowly, even with the amusement that grew on your face. “If you say so.”

And then you copied his movements, your attention going back to the movie, so you could try and figure out what part you had missed due to the interaction.

After a while, on screen, it was showing one of those long shots of landscape. Usually used to introduce a new area, or show the viewer the surroundings; where the character was in their world, while dramatic music hummed through the speakers.

Your lips had parted, a string of words about to bounce off your tongue in awe of the incredible looking scenery... But here was a sudden weight that pressed into your upper arm.

Your head turned instantly, the sentence you were going to say fading into nothing when your eyes laid upon the culprit.

This time, Castiel had slumped to the side. Which, in this case, was yours.

His body was angled sort of awkwardly due to the distance. So, in the next second, you picked up your laptop, shimmied yourself over and then placed it back on your lap before slightly lowering yourself down so that he would be more comfortable.

His cheek was smooshed into your shoulder, which caused his lips to part in an odd looking way, that meant that any time he breathed, the air would huff into the sleeve of your t-shirt with such force that the warmth of it would seep through and against your skin.

But it was also a pretty good indication of the decision his brain had finally made. Because he was out.

To keep it that way, you were trying as hard as you could to be silent. You had paused the movie, which bathed the room in utter silence, and rewound it to the part where he first got tired, before closing the laptop over.

You then leaned over the edge of your side of the bed and placed the device on the floor beneath it as quietly as you could.

However, upon pulling yourself back up, you realised that your movement had caused Castiel’s head to slip off of your shoulder, and his upper body was now hunching over into your lap.

“Shit.” you huffed under your breath, quickly supporting his weight as much as you could while also moving the pillow so that the two of you could actually sleep on it.

And once it was in position, you, gently, tugged his body forward so that he would line up with the cushion, and slowly lowered him back down as he grumbled.

Your head hit the pillow next, which honestly felt like a cloud at this point, with a sigh that blew through your lips. The tiredness from the past day finally caught up to you.

A sudden hum drew you away from closing your eyes, and your head turned, yet again, to find the reason, even though you already knew that it was just Castiel.

And for the first time since you found him, you properly had the chance to look at him, up close, without him just staring right back.

During the day, Castiel’s features were always sort of stuck; formed by tension that resided in the muscles. However, when he slept, they would be released. All of the guilt, shame, and betrayal that sunk deep into his skin would finally dissolve, even if it was just for a few hours.

The tiredness was swarming you by now, meaning that even though you wanted to smile, your face wouldn’t move. And so, using up the last of your energy, you sluggishly lifted your arm from underneath the duvet and reached for the light switch.

It echoed through the room. Your surroundings now encompassed in utter darkness, that was the same whenever your eyes closed.

Even then, there was something in you that wanted to fight the sleep that begged to take over your body. Your mind anxious over the fact that you wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Castiel during the night.

But step by step, you began to allow yourself.

Because you know what? You found him.

Castiel had been located, and at least for the time being, he was safe. He was alive, and that meant that your mission had been completed. “Goodnight, Cas.”

And thus, your mind had stopped talking. You floated into the deepest, and what would be the longest, sleep you had had in weeks.

All because Castiel was right there, by your side, doing it with you.

Your human.

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