Made a thousand people love me, now I'm all alone.
Eddie's hair is wet from the shower. He has glasses on because it's too late for his eyes.
The hotel room is sterile; everything is white and placid, innocuous in that way that's supposed to cause ease. It makes Eddie's throat close over. Automatically, he hunts down the imperfections. An old trick. Not his. But still. The base of the lamp is rusty. The abstract print of a water scene has been torn and badly repaired. Under the foot of the couch, a square of the carpet is a different colour. He takes a deep breath. He's calmer.
This is always what happens after a really good show. It's probably just adrenaline, but it sucks. He hates this part of performing. Of being on tour. He'd normally just call Steve, who'd always pick up, no matter how late it was. Natter until they both fell asleep.
But he can't call Steve, because he and Steve are not he and Steve. Not anymore. And he's got to figure out how to handle shit alone. So he puts on the soft pajamas he always buys in sets of threes and attempts to go to sleep.
His phone ringing jolts him from a weird dream about lobsters and he answers it blearily.
"Eddie? Eds, I'm downstairs and security won't let me up."
It takes him a minute to process the words. He pulls the phone away from his ear. "Steve?" he mutters.
"Can I come up?"
"Yeah."
'Cause I'm stupid and I'm damaged, and you're a disaster
When you walk into the room, oh, none of it matters
Steve doesn't look like he's been driving for ten hours. His hair is perfectly gelled, his shirt uncreased. His jeans are tight and must have gotten uncomfortable somewhere around Des Moines, but it's definitely him. Standing in Eddie's hotel room, arms folded, refusing to meet his eye.
"You're in my room," Eddie says pointlessly. "You broke up with me, and you're standing in my room. In Omaha."
"Yes."
Eddie scoffs. Rich, all things considered. He gestures, and he knows he's mean in his posture, in the sound he makes, because Steve flinches.
"Steve."
"Listen, just. Let me talk, okay? Just this once?"
"Glad you spent ten hours' worth of gas to remind me you hate me."
"I want to say I'm sorry, but that's probably the wrong thing to say because I meant it all. In that moment, I meant it. You're selfish, and you're too loud, and sometimes you forget that the world doesn't revolve around you, and you make me so fucking angry that I could spit."
"You can't," Eddie says. "I can't."
"That's exactly the fucking problem, Munson," Steve sighs. "If I hated you, I wouldn't have gotten in the car this morning because a robin landed on my windowsill and I couldn't text you the photo."
"You're just used to being able to—that doesn't mean anything, Steve! I'm not leaving the band. So I'm still going to leave every other month. I'm still going to be the loud, annoying boy you fell for in high school. We don't owe each other anything."
Steve steps forward. His face is desperate; desperate to touch, to be understood, to undo the previous three months. And Eddie knows that's what his face was saying because he knew Steve's face better than his own. Which was entirely the problem.
"Eddie, I am sorry. I-I want to go back.”
Steve’s voice cracks on the last word. Tiny thing. Barely there. But Eddie hears it anyway.
Go back.
Like they could rewind the tape and smooth out all the stretched places.
Eddie laughs once, sharp and miserable. “You said you were relieved when I left.”
Steve swallows. “I was.”
That hurts worse than yelling would have.
The room hums with the air conditioner. Somewhere down the hall, ice crashes into a bucket. Eddie can feel his pulse behind his eyes, hot and ugly.
Steve drags a hand through his perfect hair, finally ruining it. “It was quiet,” he says. “You were gone and it was quiet and I could think for the first time in months, and I thought maybe that meant something was wrong with us.”
Eddie stares at the carpet. The mismatched square under the couch.
“And then,” Steve continues carefully, “it stayed quiet.”
Eddie presses his lips together.
“And I started talking out loud because I kept thinking of things to tell you.” Steve gives this awful little laugh. “Like a fucking psycho. A dog stole somebody’s sandwich outside Family Video, and I turned around to make sure you saw it. I bought the wrong cereal because I couldn’t remember which one you hate. Robin asked me if I wanted to go to a movie, and I almost said I had to check with you first.”
“Steve—”
“And every night I kept reaching across the bed.” His voice drops lower. “Every night.”
Eddie closes his eyes.
I'm not better than this, show me what I'm worth.
Because this is the problem. Steve always waits too long to say the real thing, and Eddie always waits around long enough to hear it.
“You said I make you angry,” Eddie says quietly.
“You do.”
“Great.”
“You make me crazy, Eddie.” Steve steps closer again, slower this time, like approaching something wounded. “You leave cabinets open. You forget appointments. You derail every serious conversation with a joke because you hate feeling cornered. You collect people like strays and then act surprised when they need things from you.”
Eddie’s throat tightens.
“And you walk into a room,” Steve says, looking at him now, really looking at him, “and suddenly I can breathe properly again.”
Eddie turns away fast, rubbing at his face. “Don’t.”
“I drove ten hours.”
“That was stupid.”
“I know.”
“You can’t just show up because you miss me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I missed you too!” Eddie laughs helplessly and covers his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You think this has been easy for me? Every city is another thing you’d like. Every diner has pie you’d claim was life-changing. I keep reaching for my phone before I remember you don’t belong to me anymore.”
Steve’s expression folds in on itself.
“I didn’t stop loving you, but I think me loving you is bad for you,” Eddie says.
That one hits Steve clean across the face. His mouth opens. Closes. And Eddie hates himself immediately because there it is. The thing underneath all of it. Steve asking for steadiness, for responsibility, for someone who stayed. Eddie asking for room to still be himself inside the relationship. Both of them clawing at each other hard enough to bleed.
Steve sinks down onto the edge of the bed like his knees gave out.
“I didn’t know you felt like that,” he says softly.
“You never asked.”
“I tried.”
“You managed me.”
Steve flinches again. Finally, he says, “I don’t know how to do this right.”
Eddie huffs a tired laugh. “No kidding.”
“I just know I got halfway to Iowa before I realized I was rehearsing stories for you again.” Steve looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed now. “And I thought maybe if I still wanted to tell you everything, there had to be something worth saving.”
Eddie leans back against the wall because suddenly standing feels difficult.
He looks at Steve. He is exhausted beneath the neatness, held together by pure stubbornness. The man who drove ten hours because of a robin on a windowsill.
Made a thousand people love me, now I'm all alone.
Except not entirely.
Not yet.
“You can stay tonight,” Eddie says at last.
Hope flashes across Steve’s face so fast it almost hurts to see.
Eddie points immediately. “That is not forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“That’s not getting back together.”
Steve nods once. “Okay.”
“And if you steal the blankets, I’m throwing you out into the night.”
A tiny smile tugs at Steve’s mouth. Fragile. Familiar.
“I’d like to see you try, dumbass.”
“See?” Eddie mutters, curling into the bed with a small smile and a bubble of hope. “Already ruining my life again.”
Hey girly. I was wondering if you could write something about reader and Bucky with exes to lovers? They’re both members of the new avengers and they dated for a bit then had kind of a messy break up. It’s been a bit of a turf war between the two: Bob (he is more neutral but goes along with Yelena) Yelena, and Walker are team reader and Ava and Alexei are team Bucky. The break up is actually really stupid and unnecessary, but they swear they’re both done for good. Then reader gets hurt (very minor, not even on a mission) but she’s crying for Bucky. Like some of the team is trying to help her and she’s like “Bucky! I need Bucky” and he gets word of it and he is there. No questions asked like he runs to her. And it’s so unserious but he babies her and calms her down and calls her baby and tells her that he’s there and she will be okay now. He takes care of her and they end up getting back together.
-🍓
The breakup had been over a protein bar.
Not even a good one.
One of those chalky, dry, “tastes like regret and sawdust” ones that Bucky Barnes had apparently eaten without reading the label—your label—and then made a stupid, offhand comment about how you always left your things everywhere.
You’d snapped.
He’d snapped back.
Something about space. Something about respect. Something about “maybe we shouldn’t do this if we’re just going to keep circling the same stupid arguments.”
And just like that, two people who had survived missions, near-death experiences, and months of quiet, careful healing together… ended over a protein bar and wounded pride.
It would’ve been funny if it didn’t feel like losing a limb.
Now, the compound felt split down the middle.
Yelena had immediately declared herself captain of Team You, dragging John along with her, who nodded like he’d been waiting his entire life to pick a side in something dramatic. Even Bob hovered awkwardly nearby, trying to stay neutral but very obviously siding with whoever Yelena was glaring at less that day.
Across the hall, Ava and Alexei had claimed Bucky with equal enthusiasm.
It had turned into a full-blown turf war.
Petty. Loud. Stupid.
Exactly like the breakup.
“You know he’s miserable, right?” Yelena muttered one afternoon, perched on the kitchen counter while you aggressively chopped vegetables that did nothing to deserve your anger.
You didn’t look up. “Don’t care.”
“You do care,” she sing-songed. “You are just stubborn.”
“I’m not—”
“You cried in the shower yesterday.”
You froze.
She smirked. “Water does not hide everything, you know.”
You pointed your knife at her. “If you tell anyone—”
“I already told Walker,” she said cheerfully.
“Yelena—”
“I am kidding. Relax. You are very tense. You should kiss your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected. “Temporary condition.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “We’re not getting back together.”
“Mm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”
---
It didn’t happen on a mission.
There was no dramatic explosion, no heroic sacrifice, no battlefield chaos.
It happened because you slipped.
Bare feet, slick tile, a stupid puddle you hadn’t noticed after your shower—and suddenly you were on the floor with a sharp, shocking pain in your ankle and a yelp that echoed off the bathroom walls.
“Shit—”
You tried to stand, immediately regretted it, and dropped back down with a hiss.
It wasn’t bad.
Not really.
But it hurt, and the shock of it made your eyes sting.
“Hey—hey, what happened?”
Yelena’s voice was suddenly there, followed by footsteps and the bathroom door swinging open.
You were halfway to saying you were fine when the pain pulsed again, sharp enough to steal your breath.
And before you could stop yourself—
“Bucky.”
The word slipped out, small and broken.
Yelena blinked. “What?”
Your throat tightened. You shook your head, embarrassed, but the panic had already latched on, irrational and overwhelming.
“I— I need—”
Another throb of pain. Another wave of tears.
“Bucky,” you said again, louder this time. “I need Bucky.”
Yelena didn’t hesitate.
“Walker!” she barked out into the hall. “Go get Barnes. Now.”
“I can just—” Walker started.
“Now.”
There was a beat of silence, then hurried footsteps.
You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “This is so stupid. It’s just my ankle—”
“It is not stupid,” Yelena said firmly, crouching beside you. “You are injured and dramatic. Both are valid.”
“I’m not—” Your voice wobbled. “I just—”
You didn’t even know how to explain it.
It wasn’t just the pain.
It was the instinct. The reflex. The way your body, even after everything, still reached for him first.
Like he was home.
---
Across the compound, Bucky barely processed Walker’s words.
“—she’s asking for you.”
That was all he needed.
He was already moving before the sentence finished.
“Where?”
“Bathroom—she slipped, I think—”
Bucky didn’t wait.
He ran.
Past the kitchen, past the living area, past Ava calling his name and Alexei asking what happened. His heart pounded hard enough to make his ribs ache, a familiar, terrifying rhythm that only ever showed up when it mattered.
When you mattered.
The door was already open when he got there.
You were on the floor, wrapped in a towel, hair damp, ankle already starting to swell—and crying.
His chest clenched.
“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said immediately, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”
The word slipped out without thinking.
You didn’t correct him.
You didn’t even hesitate—you just reached for him.
He gathered you carefully, one arm braced behind your back, the other steadying your injured leg.
“Easy,” he murmured, voice soft and grounding. “Don’t move it yet, okay? Let me see.”
“It hurts,” you whispered, pressing your face into his shoulder.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your damp hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”
The room had gone quiet.
Yelena leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with a smug, knowing expression. Walker hovered behind her. Somewhere down the hall, you could hear Alexei loudly announcing that he’d been right all along.
Bucky didn’t notice any of it.
He was too focused on you.
“Can you wiggle your toes?” he asked softly.
You nodded against him, doing as he asked.
“Good. That’s good.” Relief flickered across his face. “Probably just a sprain. We’ll ice it, wrap it up. You’ll be okay.”
You sniffled. “I feel stupid.”
“Hey.” His hand tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to look at him. His expression softened, something warm and achingly familiar settling in his eyes. “You’re not stupid. You got hurt. You called me. That’s… that’s okay.”
Your breath hitched.
“I didn’t even think about it,” you admitted quietly. “I just—”
“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Me neither.”
There was a beat of silence.
Heavy. Fragile.
Then you huffed out a small, watery laugh. “We broke up over a protein bar.”
Bucky blinked.
Then, despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped him too. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”
“That’s so embarrassing.”
“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted. “I’ve made a lot of bad decisions, but that one’s up there.”
You studied him for a moment, really looked at him.
God, you’d missed him.
“Me too,” you said softly. “I didn’t want to be done. I was just… mad.”
“I know.” His thumb brushed under your eye, catching a stray tear. “I didn’t want to be done either. I just didn’t know how to fix it without making it worse.”
“You could’ve tried.”
“I should’ve,” he said immediately. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache.
“I’m sorry too.”
Another pause.
Then, quieter—
“Are we really done?” you asked.
His answer was instant.
“No.”
Something in your chest loosened.
“Okay,” you whispered.
“Okay,” he echoed.
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment like he needed to make sure you were real.
Then he shifted, careful and steady as he lifted you into his arms.
“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s get you patched up.”
You curled into him automatically, your arms slipping around his neck.
“Bucky?”
“Yeah, baby?”
A small smile tugged at your lips.
“I missed you.”
His grip tightened, just slightly.
“I missed you too,” he said, and this time, there was no hesitation at all.
Warnings: fluffy smutty angst?🔞 Dirty talk, body insecurities.
Word count: 1.2k
//
She stared at her naked body in the mirror, scrutiny on her mind. She’d just gotten out of the shower when her insecurities caught her attention in the fogged reflection.
The stretch marks decorating her inner thighs.
The pudge of her stomach.
The way everything seemed to jiggle.
She couldn’t admire the hand prints and hickies of her lover when those other things were in the way. Billy was such an attractive man, funny, sweet, but not without his ‘what the fuck’ moments. A lot of the women they encountered were fit, beautifully thin, and she was just…normal. Most days she liked her short stature and curvy figure, but there were still moments when she squeezed at her body and wondered if she was even attractive.
The emotion welled up in her chest, anxiety burning at her throat. The door to the bathroom suddenly popped open making her close her towel and push down her feelings. Billy shuffled inside the warm space, fingers scratching his beard and ruffling his bed head.
“Mornin’, love,” he grumbled and pecked her cheek, “Oi! You know yer not allowed ta showa’ without me.”
“Sorry,” she apologized with a small smile.
He stopped in his tracks hearing her tone. It was too meek, too unsure for his liking. And that tight smile didn’t sit well with him either. He quirked a brow, “W’at’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing, babe. Just…drying off,” she dismissed as she tightened the towel around her.
He didn’t believe her. He pressed his chest to her back, burly arms wrapping around her body to begin loosening the fabric, “Admirin’ me handy work?”
He didn’t miss her nervous chuckle or how her fingers tightened around her covering, “I gotta get ready, Billy.”
“Nah, c’mon, pet. Lemme see the damage I did, yeah?” he pushed.
She didn’t fight as he moved her hands out of the way and dropped the towel. Peering into the mirror, he caught her staring at the counter, avoiding the mirror like it had personally offended her. His scruff tickled as he nuzzled his lips towards her ear, his hands finding their home on her hips.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous you are,” he left a soft kiss under her ear.
A little shiver ran up her spine, but she still refused to meet his concerned gaze. A hand left her hip, cupping her jaw to look up. She tried to wiggle away but he wouldn’t let her.
“Billy…I don’t have ti—“
“Why’re you cryin’, love?” he interrupted.
Her bottom lip wobbled upon noticing her red, teary eyes. Damnit. She wiped away a stray tear that breached her lash line before it could roll down and wet the hand holding her so delicately. It was so dumb—this ridiculous self-hatred that bubbled up. The insecurity only worsened being around people who seemed so confident in themselves. People who weren’t plagued by that nagging feeling of being unattractive. Especially Billy. The fucker was so full of himself it was annoying.
“Tell me,” he softly demanded, “W’at’s goin’ on in that pretty ‘ead?”
She sniffled, “I’m not…I don’t like it.”
“Don’t like w’at?” he whispered.
“M-My body.”
His eyes went wide as if her admission was blasphemy. She was surprised when he didn’t default into typical Billy Butcher ranting, but instead stayed soft, “Why, darlin’? Your body’s a bloody national treasure’.”
She listed off her grievances: the stretch marks, the pudge, the jiggling. Billy was not having any of it. He swept her hair to one side, pressing his mouth to her ear so his words went go straight to her brain.
“Your body is a fuckin’ beauty. Curves like rollin’ hills. A perfect soft place for me to land. Men like me needs that shit, pet,” he softly murmured, “And stretch marks? Fuck off. Jiggling? Ain’t no fun if there ain’t no motion to the ocean.”
A sad giggle fell from her lips, and he smiled.
“You’re a proper dime with a cunt ta match. I wouldn’t change a f’ing about ya, so why would you?” Billy met her eyes once again.
“I just don’t compare to these other women,” her voice was so small it sent a painful pang through his chest, “Annie and Kimiko they’re so fit and gorgeous and I’m just—“
“None of that swill. I won’t ’ear it. You’re a goddess among men, my dove. Somethin’ to be worshipped,” Billy cut her off, wrapping her in his arms tight.
Her body heaved a heavy sigh, letting go of the feelings, enjoying the warmth of his words and his body. Feather light kisses traveled down her neck to her shoulder and back up again. She reached around and ran her fingers through his hair as his own began to wonder, tracing over every perfect imperfection.
He suddenly began sliding down her body—biting and kissing as he bent her over the counter. She giggled, “What are you doing, baby?”
He hummed happily into her skin, “Havin’ me breakfast.”
She braced her hands against the sink, goosebumps spreading as his callused hands skimmed her thighs, pushing them wider.
“Billy, you’re gonna make us la—,” she gasped when his tongue pressed against her slit, “Late.”
“You work for me,” he mumbled into her wetness, “No such f’ing as late.”
Her hips arched back into his face, “MM…is gonna be…p-pissed.”
“Ah let’em. Hush now, I’m starved,” he made his point by flicking his tongue over her clit.
The room filled with sloppy sucking sounds and her beautiful moans. His hands spread her ass to dive in deeper, fucking his tongue into her weeping hole. Pleasure tingled her nerve endings like electricity. He growled and spanked her, the pain adding to the bliss, before moving down to circle clit again. The vibrations made her whimper and writhe.
“Oh…Fuck! Right there!”
He pulled away with a disgusting pop, her juices coating his beard, “Thought we didn’t ‘ave time?”
“Shut up!” she whined, “Keep going!”
He chuckled as he went back to business. He loved the way her walls tried latching on to his tongue with little success. The pace increased, the heat in her core grew, her cunt leaked more onto his tongue while his beard scratched all the right places. Suddenly, he shook his head, really getting into her making her gasp.
“F-Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Billy! Mm, yes!”
His reply was a gravelly moan.
“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! Please, don’t stop!” she pleaded, one hand reaching back to grab the hair at the top of his head.
The slurping grew louder, his fingers worked her clit more vigorously until she finally broke. She gushed all over his face as her legs trembled slightly, threatening to buckle on her. Billy worked her through her orgasm until she began to wiggle away. After cleaning her sensitive cunt with his tongue, he stood up, a manic, satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Think ya need anotha’ showa’, love,” he smirked, leaning down and leaving a wet kiss on her shoulder.
She turned around, bracing her back against the counter, “You’re coming with me. You gotta finish what you started, Butcher.”
He laughed as he quickly jerked her up to wrap around him, hard cock already nudging at her folds, “That’s me girl. No more of this ‘I hate me body’ shite. Alright?”
“Alright. Just hurry up and get inside me!” she nearly begged.
Summary: Staying at the cabin lasts longer than anticipated, so you have to share a bed with your ex.
Warnings/Tags: angsty fluff, one bed trope, ambiguous ending, ex-boyfriend!daryl, previous relationship, female reader (she/her), season ten, no use of y/n
Word count: 1.7k words
A/N: This is a continuation of my “Snowed In” piece and another part in my oneshot collection for ex-boyfriend!daryl. I’m so glad that other people are enjoying it!!
This is for Bee's Fourteen Days of Love - day 12: Only One Bed.
Masterlist | D.D. angst masterlist | Ruins - D.D.
The two of you have been snowed in at the cabin for three days now and the couch was killing your back. There was a perfectly good bed in one of the bedrooms, but you were hoping that the blizzard would end before having to resort to that. Clearly, that had been foolish. The past seventy-two hours were filled with pacing, awkward glances, and clipped conversations. It didn’t help that you’d fallen asleep with your head in Daryl’s lap the first night.
Now, your ex-boyfriend was stoking the fire while you went over the supplies in the kitchen. Daryl had caught some rabbits the day before, so you’d been able to have dinner. This couldn’t go on forever, though. The whole point of this pit stop was to shelter from the storm and then trade with one of the neighboring communities.
Daryl was adding more wood to the fireplace when he glanced over his shoulder at you. The silence was tense, but less suffocating than when you first arrived. The breakup had been entirely his fault, and he knew that. You deserved better, and he could never be that man for you. At least, that’s what he had convinced himself.
You made eye contact with him, and it took everything in you to not look away. This was the man who had been inside of you. Daryl had seen you in a variety of vulnerable positions. Why was the idea of sharing a bed again so anxiety inducing? It wasn’t like it would be a big deal. It was just one night. Taking a deep breath, you shifted on your feet and finally spoke up.
“You ready for bed?”
“Might just keep watch or somethin’.”
“The doors are barricaded, Daryl. There’s no reason to keep watch. Besides, you’ve been lettin’ me sleep. You should rest.”
“M’fine.”
God, he always did this. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and remind him that he didn’t always have to be the martyr. Daryl would never listen, so that would be pointless. Running a hand over your face, you stared at him for a moment and sighed.
“Just stay in the bed with me. Please.”
You hated the slightly pleading tone of your voice, but the words were already out there. This shouldn’t be so difficult. Daryl was the man that you had once loved. If you were being honest, you’d probably always love him. The most frustrating part was that you knew that he felt the same way. He just wasn’t allowing himself to be happy. You must’ve gotten through to him because he chewed on his lower lip before nodding.
“Okay. Why don’t you get in bed, and then I’ll join you in a minute?”
“You better not make me get out of bed to come find you.”
“Jesus. I just gotta piss ‘fore bed, woman.”
Already settled into the bed, it was instantly more comfortable than the couch and your aching muscles were finally able to relax. You were still on edge, though. Daryl hadn’t been in the same bed as you in months. The idea of being near a warm body, his warm body, wasn’t entirely unappealing. You’d always slept better with someone lying beside you. Your thoughts were interrupted when he stepped into the bedroom. He looked as tense as you felt.
Daryl saw that you’d given him the side closest to the door and his chest tightened. Of course, you’d remember his sleeping preferences. As a child, he’d developed the habit of sleeping facing the door, so that he could go check on his mother. He wouldn’t be able to sleep any other way, and you knew that. This just solidified his idea that you were too good for him.
You immediately picked up on the way that your ex-boyfriend had frozen by the foot of the bed. Had you done something wrong? You raised an eyebrow and shifted beneath the sheets.
“What? You want me to stick a pillow between us or somethin’?”
“Hm? No, we ain’t children.”
“Right. Well, don’t just stand there.”
Noticing that Daryl hadn’t undressed for bed, you rolled your eyes a little and stared at him expectantly. The man could sleep in anything, but there was no way those jeans would be comfortable. He noticed your gaze and cocked an eyebrow.
“What’re lookin’ at me like that for?”
“I mean, you’re free to do whatever you want, but jeans ain’t comfortable to sleep in.”
He wanted to brush off your concern, but you had a point. The denim would rub against his skin, and it would likely end up bothering him. Daryl wasn’t even sure why he was hesitant to take his pants off. You had seen him naked plenty of times. He just wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy again. On the other hand, remaining fully dressed would be uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to feel like he didn’t trust you. He huffed and undid his belt.
“Yeah, okay.”
Once he was out of his jeans, he peeled back the covers and joined you on the bed. Daryl’s heart was racing, and he could tell that you were also nervous. For two people who were still in love, you guys were acting awkward as fuck. He could see the way that you kept avoiding his gaze. This was all his fault and he knew it.
You shifted on the bed and picked at the hem of your shirt. Despite feeling uneasy, you realized how much you’d missed this. Daryl’s presence provided you with the sense of safety and familiarity that you had been craving. You could hear the way that his breathing was ever so slightly quicker than usual. Breaking the silence, you finally faced him and spoke quietly.
“You comfortable?”
“Mhm. How ‘bout you? Too cold?”
“Nah, I’m okay.”
“Right.”
Jesus, when did you both become so stiff? Unable to stand the tension anymore, you mumbled a quick “goodnight” and rolled over. You shut your eyes and forced your breathing to even out. Daryl was messing with the edge of the sheet, and you knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d drifted off. He’d always done that.
Surprisingly, you were able to fall asleep and your whole body relaxed. Daryl could see the moment that your body finally gave in. Now, he was watching you sleep. He felt like a loser, but he couldn’t help himself. In the past, he would’ve held you all night and watched over you. Things were different now.
At some point in the night, you’d rolled over and ended up with your head laying on your ex-boyfriend’s chest. The movement had awoken him and he froze. This had always been your preferred way to sleep, but he was shocked that you were still seeking him out. Even if it was subconsciously. He decided to try his luck and his fingers glided over your hair. You hummed in your sleep and made no effort to move. Daryl was so at ease that he also went back to sleep.
The next morning, your eyes fluttered open, and you felt something solid beneath you. You didn’t move for a moment before it hit you. It wasn’t clear when, but you’d rolled on top of Daryl. You were completely mortified. This entire situation was already complicated enough. You quickly moved over and prayed that he wouldn’t wake up. Of course, he did. His gravelly voice spoke up, and he rubbed at his face.
“You sleep okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I slept good. Did you?”
At least you sounded somewhat confident. It would’ve been even worse if you’d dissolved into a stuttering mess. Despite your cheeks being a bit flushed, you were holding it together fairly well. Daryl sighed deeply and stretched his legs. Whatever had happened last night hadn’t bothered him. At least, he wasn’t acting as flustered as you were.
In reality, Daryl was also running over the past few hours and trying not to outwardly show his nervousness. He’d been missing you in ways that he didn’t even know were possible. You sleeping on top of him had only made that more apparent. He needed to get out of this. Sitting up, he stretched again and started getting dressed. His voice was slightly dismissive when he answered your question.
“Slept fine. M’gonna go see if the snow’s cleared any. We should head out soon.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Daryl exited the room like his ass was on fire. Did you really bother him that much? No, that wasn’t the case and you knew it. He was just trying to set some boundaries. That’s how this whole being broken up thing was supposed to work. You just weren’t good at it. Since you couldn’t stew in your thoughts any longer, you got up and redressed yourself.
By the time you got to the living room, Daryl was already packing his bag and making sure that the pantry had been cleared out. He seemed way too eager to get out of this cabin. The thought stung more than you’d like to admit. You approached him and grabbed your own bag.
“The snow’s all cleared?”
“Yeah. We can keep movin’ to The Sanctuary. The roads might be a little slick, though.”
“That’s okay. You’re a good driver.”
The compliment had slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You watched the way Daryl’s ears tinged pink, and he grunted in agreement. His bashfulness never failed to amuse you. You’d think the man had never been complimented before.
He shrugged it off and rolled his aching shoulders back. Some part of Daryl’s body was always sore, these days. When the two of you had been together, you gave him the best back massages. He’d kill for one of those right about now, but he’d never ask. Instead, he readjusted himself and looked you over.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let’s head out.”
Opening the door for you, Daryl motioned for you to go forward and had to resist the urge to rest his hand on your lower back. It had been such a part of his routine that it took everything in him to not act on it. That wasn’t his place anymore. He had made sure of that. All he wanted was to go back to Alexandria and to pretend this didn't happen. That was never going to work, though.
CW: use of a collar (NON-SEXUAL), kidnapping, yandere and possessive Caleb, fluffy angst ig
Word count: 778
Caleb snapped the collar around your neck. It locked automatically, only unlocking with his finger print. He had chosen a sleek, black collar with a bell on the front, the bell ensured that he could hear you wherever you were. The collar had a built in tracking device. After your... little stunt, he wasn't taking any chances. You had tried to escape your shared house in Skyhaven again. He honestly should just lock you in your room. But he was giving you another chance. And what fun would it be if he wasn't greeted by you every day? It's not like you could leave the house without him knowing anymore, he had coded everything to only open if he allowed it. You were trapped.
You protested. You begged. You didn't want a collar. But it could've been worse, right? You had escaped only a week ago, and had been captured within 24 hours. Caleb was meticulous. He knew your every move. He had found you outside a convenience store. You forgot to bring money with you. You had only had a short window of time to escape after all.
Caleb had waited, just long enough that you felt defeated. Just enough time so that you didn't have any energy to run when he found you. He kneeled in front of you, grabbing your wrist. He tried to make eye contact with you, but you continued to avoid his gaze. He left out a tsk and grabbed your face to force you to look at him.
"Are we done playing this game, Pips?"
You could feel your blood run cold at his words. GAME? Did he really think this was a game? You seeking independence and him denying it was a GAME? But you were too tired to run anymore. Maybe it was better to just give in... I mean, you wouldn't have to run anymore. You would get 3 meals a day... Maybe just at the price of your freedom... But what was the alternative? Keep running from Caleb forever? You knew you wouldn't be able to do that. Caleb would be able to find you every single time. He had been able to.
You let out a meek nod. There was nothing you could do. This was just how it had to be.
"Good girl pipsqueak. I knew you would come around," Caleb smirked. He was pleased that you finally came to your senses. But he would still need to take... precautions.
The two of you retuned to Skyhaven. He let you be. The first week was normal. Nothing had happened, yet. And then he came home with that. The collar. He had put it in a cute present box. He had sat you down on the couch. Handed it to you.
Your heart thumped as you held the box in your hands. It had a pretty bow of your favorite color. You didn't know what it could be. You glanced at Caleb, but all he gave you was an encouraging smile.
"Open it, Honey. It's a gift."
You slowly untied the bow and opened the box. A collar. A black collar with a bell on it. This had to be a joke. You turned your gaze frantically to Caleb, but his smile only widened. He was pleased. He gently took the collar from your trembling hands and held it in front of you.
"Since you had escaped last time Pipsqueak, I had to think of an appropriate punishment. And what could be better than a collar? I'll be able to know where you are at all times and whoever sees it will know that you belong to me. Now hold up your hair so I can put it on you."
You numbly held up your hair, more so out of shock than anything. You should've known that something was wrong when Caleb let you be after you had escaped.
He slipped it around your neck.
Click.
Now there was no chance of ever escaping Caleb's grasp again. You were trapped, forever.
Caleb watched you with a satisfied grin. You would get used to the collar, he reasoned. He hooked a finger under the front of the collar and pulled you towards him. You watched him with wide eyes, wondering what his next move was. Oh how he loved that expression. You were just like that cat he had found. This time, all he did was kiss your cheek. "Don’t worry, honey, you'll get used to it. You'll come to love it, just as much as I do."
You doubted that.
But all you could do was give him a weak smile and hope for the best.
I'm uploading so quickly again bc I wanna thank ya'll for al the love!:D Especially reading through the reblogs has made me smile several times. Im kinda upset that I can't answer those directly (or atleast haven't figured out a way to just yet) but this'll work 2:)
Seam is inspired by a persian cat, for those who mentioned their design. It just makes sense to me that they're a persian. Someone also welcomed me to hell but if this place's hell then it's surprisingly nice down here
..gn! reader, minor angst, spicy, fluff mostly, no mentions of size, age, race or gender for reader, no use of y/n.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who will randomly run up behind you and and hop on your back. he expects you to drop everything and give him a piggy back ride. you do.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who grumbles at you if you ever touch his hair, but you both know he loves it.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who picks you up and twirls you around every time you come home.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who is multiple millennia old, and will come running if you need him to kill a spider. he acts like a knight.
٠࣪.✦➤ “worry not, your highness! i shall vanquish this threat immediately!”
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who, while still on one knee from his knight act, will laugh for a good while before turning to you with the sweetest smile.
٠࣪.✦➤ “as your knight, i vow never to let you fall into harm’s way. i love you, your highness.” and he kisses your hand. it's completely unexpected from him, so much so that you need a moment to process what just happened.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who insists on five more minutes for hours, despite not needing to sleep.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who is an absolute pervert about you.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who doesn't believe in gender roles and will be the bottom whenever he wants.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who is still working on not overwhelming you with his insane stamina.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who is always open to trying new things in the bedroom and is willing to try whatever you like.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who will beg you to pull his hair during sex. it earns you the loudest whimpers from him.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who always takes you by the hand right before he finishes and puts your fingers on his wings.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who keeps his wings out around you. he loves when you touch them, since it's an actual part of him and not just his vessel.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who will stay awake, sitting up in bed and staring at the wall as he tries to understand how you managed to take him by surprise.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who after being freed from asmodeus, wants to see you first.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who cries when he sees you again for the first time.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who feels like the luckiest angel alive because you haven't moved on yet.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who just wants you to hold him for hours and hours.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who's first words in years were used to tell you how he loves you.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who keeps repeating just that over and over until his voice is shot again.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who kisses you and kisses you as soon as his lips heal.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who won't talk to anyone but you for the first few months.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who refuses to be away from you for any amount of time.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who spends all his time with his safe space, you.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who's slowly learning to trust people again, thanks to you.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who keeps finding new ways to thank you.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who reads you the love letters he wrote for you over the past seven years.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who will just crawl into your lap and fall asleep there.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who's acting more like himself because it makes you smile.
٠࣪.✦➤ gabriel, who adores you even more now that he's back.
────୨ৎ────
a/n: gummi here! i love this silly man. i was thinking about trying out this format, which would mean only one character but more headcanons. let me know what you think!! please leave something in my inbox, i wanna talk to you people!! i know i haven't really done any other fandom but supernatural stuff but it's my hyper fixation right now so that probably won't change.. sorry:(. love ya! -gummi
this is very open ended so I might continue to add onto it in the future
rip my work break for this
feel free to send asks / requests !!
features:
gn!reader x Leviathan, slight angst, flirting
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He stared at you, biting his lip until he felt the warm taste of copper envelope his mouth. Levi was a yearner, through and through. He had liked you since you decided to listen to his endless yapping sessions while watching him game late into the night. He never dared utter a word of it, and much to his dismay, you were in exactly the same predicament.
So there you two were, chugging some off brand ‘devil fuel’ energy drink while longing in silence.
Almost silence. “—So her ULT is triggered after this bar has filled and then she can attack with crit rate—“, Levi rambled on and on, gesturing wildly and enthusiastically at the screen.
Your eyes were drawn to him, Levi’s effortless charisma, glued to his lips as he so animatedly spoke, the actual substance behind his words blurring into the background along with everything that wasn’t him.
“Hey? HELLO? This final boss is kicking my ass and you’re just set to idle animations!” You shook your head, dumbly staring back at the ‘GAME OVER’ screen. “Ah— sorry, been a long day, you know?”, you sighed, leaning back against comfy pillows while reaching for your caffeinated beverage. “—you don’t have to hang out with a lowlife like me so late at night. You can just go be a normie with a healthy sleep schedule or whatever.” You gently bumped his shoulder. “Shut up. And stop degrading yourself.”
A pause. Then, a hesitant joke. “That’s my job.” He stared at you before flushing a bit. “It feels less degrading and more appraising but with— mean words, when you do it.”, he answered shyly, averting his eyes. Your tense shoulders loosened up just a bit. A comfortable silence settled in, occasionally interrupted by pained grunts or high pitched attack combos as Levi resumed the game.
Your eyes followed him suit, drawn to the eyebags beneath his rounded eyes, to the slight bump on his nose, to the way he bit his lip in concentration. You caught yourself and forced your gaze away, back to the screen, back to the safe, sound world of never taking the risk. Little did you know that he was on the other side, to scared to take the leap towards you.
Possibly, maybe, you would be able to close the gap if you were ready someday.
