#and broke her hand punching a dumpster

[ghouljams]

Okay hear me out Gaz with a darling who's a nursing student, but they got their CNA(certified nursing assistant) certification in highschool through you're high school trade school program, got your LPN(license practical nurse), and is currently working on get your RN(registered nurse) with your final goal of getting their LNP(licensed nurse practitioner). You could meet in the ER because he worked himself too hard didn't sleep forgot to drink and eat and just thump Price and Soap rushed the poor man to the hospital. All he remembers is he hit the ground and he wakes up to quite the pretty nurse tending to him.

He finds out later that his nurse is still a student and is actually in a couple of his classes and starts seeing you everywhere in classes, at the library, student events, parties that Soap throws, finds out you're even in the band program. How the hell did he not notice such a pretty little thing for so long?

-Hot mess rambler

P.s. I'm sorry (not) for giving you an idea for price's darling

OK. OK OK OK OK I have a thought, and also multiple "people going to the hospital" stories from college. I do love love love Gaz fainting, but I also love this one story I have and I need you to tell me which one sounds more fun.

Gaz has noticed you. He sees you in band, sees you in the library, walking to classes, he spots you at student events. You're hard not to notice, you're gorgeous, radiant, you laugh a little too loud and he loves you for it. He's got no time to take you out though. That's the problem. He would've talked to you by now but his schedule is insane and he has no time to date, and you deserve to be wooed. You deserve to date someone who has time for you. He's working on it, working with Price to figure out his schedule for next semester so he can have time for you. GOD you don't even know he exists but he is making time for you.

He's out with Soap having a dart at some shitty college bar when he hears from someone inside that you're seeing someone. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the upset that he didn't get to you first, but Gaz punches a dumpster. No half measures, he hits the cool metal hard and he feels his knuckles crunch as much as he hears them. Soap stares at him and calls Price for a ride to the hospital while Gaz spits and swears. "Yeah, no, Gaz punched a dumpster," Soap crouching to inspect it, "There is a dent, aye good on ya Gaz."

And of course who should he see when he gets settled in the ER, who's bandaging his hand? You of course. Working an ER shift between classes and just as radiant as always even in scrubs. No, especially in scrubs. He thought you were a student, then again he doesn't really know anything about you except that you're gorgeous and taken. You ask Soap what happened because Gaz is too busy staring at you to be conversational. You laugh, just a little too loud, when he tells you that Gaz punched a dumpster. "Alcohol will do that," you smile at him, and Gaz feels like he's staring at the sun.

And maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the painkiller you gave him, maybe it's the way you smile at him like you could stop the world with a glance, but he can't stop his mouth from moving. "I'd be good to ya, break up wi' your boyfriend," he slurs. Soap wheezes, leans over to clutch his stomach he laughs so hard. You give him a look of utter confusion.

"I don't have a boyfriend," you tell him, "hardly have time to sleep between this and classes." You lean over Gaz and he sits up a bit to sniff you, just enough to smell hospital soap and the last dredge of your perfume. "Is he always like this?" You ask Soap.

"Nah 'e's fuckin' trollied," Soap manages between giggles, "sober 'im up an' he's class."

"Right," you smile again, God you should smile all the time Gaz never wants you to stop smiling. You look at him and he must look like a fool the way Soap sputters and laughs. "Why don't you ask me out when you sober up," You grin, like it's a private joke between the two of you. It is most certainly not a joke to Gaz.

"I will," He tells you, deathly serious. Your smile softens a little and you grab a pen from your pocket. You hold Gaz's arm still and carefully write down your name and phone number, making sure it's legible before you let him take a look at it. "Bet," He grins.

"This'll be a great story for your kids," Soap says, leaning to inspect your penmanship.

"Gotta get a ring now," Gaz agrees. You laugh and leave them to their plotting, sure you won't hear from your patient in the morning.

#cod x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz garrick #college au #nurse!reader #this actually was one of my college friends #she heard that her now wife then roommate had been cheated on #and broke her hand punching a dumpster #her wife picked her up at the hospital and that was the start of their relationship

[yelena-belovas-gun]

Last Resort Pt. 1 (Maya Lopez)

Summary: When Maya needs medical attention, you end up being her last resort. This, however, stirs up some unwanted, dormant feelings.

Maya Lopez x fem!nurse!reader

Warnings: blood, wounds, breakup, swearing.

Note: i'm not a doctor, so the procedures for the patching up are probably very inaccurate, so bear with me, i tried my best...also, bold are the flashbacks. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Maya only narrowly escaped Fisk's men, who wanted her dead after she shot him in the face. The bullet in her abdomen was nothing short of agonising, and she let out a guttural moan of pain as she slumped against a wall.

The alleys of New York were dark, thank god, otherwise she'd have been spotted much faster than she'd have liked. The smell of the nearby dumpster made her nose wrinkle, but the sudden stab of pain in her abdomen distracted her.

It was only when she pulled her jacket over her shoulders and went out of the alley did she notice exactly which building she was in front of.

She remembered it vividly, from all the times she'd come here for nights too sinful to speak of, or too painful to remember.

The neon lights of the diner buzzed and flickered, casting a red tinge on the multicoloured sidewalk. She went towards the small side door from where she could enter the apartment building's lobby, and pushed the metal door open with a loud 'screech'.

She limped towards the elevator, and practically dragged herself inside. Her vision was getting dimmer, and the darkness lasted a bit longer each time she blinked. When she put a hand to her abdomen gingerly, it came away sticky, red, and wet.

She pulled open the door and despite having come there hundreds of times, she counted down the doors till she reached the one she wanted.

With a trembling hand and a disregard for all the thoughts rushing one after the other in her mind, she rang the doorbell.

You'd just gotten off after a very tiring shift. You were dead on your feet, and all you wanted to do was eat dinner and crash. However, the second you'd bitten into the burrito you'd just pulled out of the microwave, your doorbell rang.

You groaned in annoyance and walked over, opening it without looking through the peephole.

But the moment your eyes landed on the person, you wished you had.

Your hands came up, trembling, as you signed in disbelief, "Maya?!"

She looked at you with a raised brow and looked at you with an annoyed look on her face.

"Can I come in?" She signed, agitated.

Your brow furrowed and your fists clenched before you replied, "No, why the hell are you here at all?!"

She rolled her eyes, but knew better than to push past you. She knew you well enough that if she did that, she would definitely get a swift punch to the face.

"I need help. I wouldn't be here unless I was desperate," she replied, her brow still arched as she glanced down either sides of the corridor.

You rolled your eyes, "You said that you'll never see me again," you glared at her, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. "What, did you lie about that, too?"

That last statement hurt. And it hurt more than Maya cared to admit. It was true that the pair of you hadn't ended it on good terms, and it was definitely true that her white lies had all come together to form a mess which broke the person she'd cared about the most.

Her abdomen gave another stab of pain, as if reminding her that she wasn't here for petty arguments.

The moment you saw her wince, your brows went up in concern, even though you wanted to maintain your irritated façade. You ushered her in, and shut the door, pushing her towards the couch.

She decided not to be difficult for once, and sat down as she waited for you to bring out your first-aid kit.

Your black cat, Kaz, meowed and leapt up on the couch beside her, rubbing himself against her arm. She felt the edges of her lips turn up in a small smile as she put a hand up to gently scratch behind his ears.

You stood in front of her after a moment, arms crossed and looking at her as if you wanted to say, 'what am I going to do with you?'. Instead, you settled for signing, "Bullet, or blade?"

She sighed slightly and leaned back in exasperation. "Bullet," she replied.

She didn't have to hear to know that you'd rolled your eyes and called her an idiot.

"Take off your shirt," you signed, grabbing a stool and sitting on front of her. Seeing her slightly bewildered expression, you looked at her with a disgusted and annoyed glare, "Not in that way, you pervert."

She rolled her eyes at your comment and yanked off her jacket, then her shirt. When you both were together, she'd almost always come home injured, and wouldn't ever feel awkward when you'd ask her to take off the obstructing fabric.

But right now, she honestly wanted to shrivel up and disappear into the couch cushions.

You didn't even flinch at how badly her wound was bleeding, and proceeded to grab a pair of what she thought looked like very large tweezers. You pulled on a pair of blue surgical gloves and turned your wrists to ease them up.

You signed up at her, "Better bite down on something, cause I can't guarantee that this won't hurt."

She didn't even have time to think before you picked up the tweezers again, and began to pull out the bullet with a hand so steady, an assassin would be jealous.

Pain tore through every atom in her body, and it took everything in her not to scream in pain. She instead settled for a very pronounced groan of pain as her fists clenched. She bit down on the knuckles of her right fist, eyes clenching shut as she waited for it to be over.

After what felt like forever, she felt the pain subside, till it was no more like her whole internal organ system was being set on fire, but more like her abdomen had just been run over several times.

No biggie.

"Worst part's over?" She asked. She noticed you tensing up, and regretted her choice of words. That was kind of her signature statement from before you both broke up. After she'd have asked that question, you would kiss her forehead and look at her very apologetically if the answer was no, and with a bit of relief if it was a yes.

You decided to harden your heart as it fluttered, and as your body tensed with painful memory. It took you everything not to kiss her forehead and reply as you used to, so you settled for a curt 'no'.

She felt your hands gently cleaning out the leftover blood from around her wound, and made every effort not to whimper. Whether it was out of pain or heartache, she had no idea.

Your touch was familiar, gentle, and memory-invoking. It made her heart flutter and hurt at the same time, and it made her want to cry of both sadness and relief.

At least your touch towards her was the same.

You tapped on her knee, catching her attention. "I don't have the proper anaesthesia for this, so I have to do it without," you signed. "Think you can handle that kind of pain?"

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes and signed. "I've handled worse."

Her cocky reply made you want to strangle her. However, your feelings were slowly conflicted, but you shoved them down with a force even the toughest wrestler would be jealous of.

'She's a liar, a backstabber, and she doesn't want you anymore,' you thought to yourself. 'You're just doing your job.'

"Alright, little miss stupid," you rolled your eyes and took off the first set of gloves and grabbed another after signing. "If you're so damn tough, then I refuse to have you holding my shoulder with a death grip."

She rolled her eyes again, "Just patch me up, you asshole. I didn't ask for any commentary,"

"And I didn't ask for you to be here," you signed in irritation. "But we don't always get what we want, do we?"

Maya winced and squeezed her eyes shut again as you threaded the needle and she felt the first agonising prick of it against the raw skin of her wound. Luckily, the moment was dissolved in a flood of memory.

"How does this happen every single time I patch you up?" You had signed, after you stitched up yet another bullet wound of hers.

She'd smiled sheepishly and signed, "I'm sorry, but that's what the job demands." "Well you're damn lucky I'm a nurse," you signed in a bit of annoyance before you put the first aid kit away.

You gasped when Maya's arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your neck. It wasn't lustful, just innocent and apologetic.

"I am sorry," she finger-spelled with her arms still around you, resting her cheek against your shoulder as she inhaled your scent. It was an intoxicating, feminine scent of chrysanthemums, which always made her feel safe.

"You're lucky that I love you," you signed, turning around in her embrace to face her. She gazed into your eyes, waiting for your lips to twitch up in that adorable smile of yours, which made your eyes crinkle and your face practically glow.

After a moment, you did break into a smile, and she couldn't help but laugh softly. There it was. The smile which kept her going, the smile which made her less reckless.

The smile which lit up the darkness within her with a blinding light.

Now, there was no smile. Your brow was creased, eyes squinted in concentration. Your hand remained steady, as you slowly, patiently closed up her wound.

She kept her fists clenched, her teeth pressed against each other with the force of her jaw practically pushing them up into the gums. She only made the softest of groans here and there, refusing to grab onto you.

"Done," you signed after an agonisingly long period. "Now you leave. Do not, and I repeat, do not do anything which might stretch your abdomen. If these stitches open out, I recommend you either do it yourself with dental floss and a sewing needle, or go to the goddamn ER like a normal human being in medical crisis would."

"You talk too much," she signed, groaning as she stood. Her body had cramped up with how tense she'd become, and her muscles were killing her.

"You comment too much," you rolled your eyes. "Now, leave. I'm not doing any more favours."

"Fine," she scoffed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you replied, still keeping an annoyed expression on your face. "Out."

"Okay," she shrugged and grabbed her bag, leaving your house.

It was only when she'd reached home that she realised...

...she'd left her leather jacket on your couch.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#maya lopez x reader #alaqua cox #echo mcu #echo tv #maya lopez #echo x reader #wlw #lovers to enemies #lovers to enemies to lovers #maya lopez echo #x fem!reader #female y/n

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 30: Reunion

Word Count: 973

TWs: Injury mention, blood mentions, bullying mentions, emeto mention

⛤⛤⛤

“What have you brought?” The Marionette asked as Michael opened his bag.

“The key to your living memories, or so I hope. And another step closer to getting justice for the slain.” He lifted the photograph out of the bag and covered the faces of Margarete, himself, Elizabeth, and Evan with his hands, leaving William’s exposed to the haunted animatronic before him. “Do you recognise this face?”

The animatronic's chest heaved with emotion, though of course it couldn't and didn't need to breathe. “My father's business partner…”

Michael's breath shallowed. “Charlie?”

It looked up from the photo and briefly rose, as if to lunge at Michael, then paused. “They’re going to think you’re him if they see this.”

He felt strangled. “Do I really look so much like William?!”

“Especially after he lost weight… you two could be brothers, let alone father and son. I almost lost myself to rage just looking between you and this photograph, but then I remembered. The others won't be so conscious.”

He dropped the picture into his bag, unable to suppress the angry tears pricking his eyes. “God- fucking- dammit!” He punctuated each word by punching the bag, wincing when the glass protecting the photo shattered and pricked him through the material, slicing up his knuckles. “I’ll never be able to distance myself from him because of this fucking face!”

As he stood there, leaning against the prize counter and sniffling, the Marionette calmly climbed out of its box and briefly slipped away. When it returned, it carried a first aid kit with it. It climbed up onto the counter and began bandaging Michael’s hand.

“Have you repented?”

“Huh…?”

“All the pain you caused as a teenager, do you regret it? Do you want to be a better person?”

“Of course I do…” He rubbed his eyes with his other hand, hissing at how the bandages stung against his wounds.

“Then you’re nothing like your father, Michael. I overheard from past guards that more children have gone missing.”

He nodded. “That’s right… he made a new place. Circus Baby’s Pizza World. Dedicated to my sister…”

“Elizabeth. She survives.”

He nodded again. “Oh yeah, and still clinging to William’s pantlegs… completely oblivious.”

“What of my father?”

He swallowed and reluctantly told her. The Marionette hung its head in sorrow, dropping Michael’s hand. “He made the vessel I inhabit now to protect me. He didn’t know it was William, but he knew the killer was closer to home than was comfortable.” It paused. “Somehow, I remember… how we became one. I can see my body from the Marionette’s perspective. It dug me out from behind the dumpsters. And then I was the Marionette, able to control its body with my own thoughts. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went back inside the restaurant, through an open window. That’s when I found the others.”

Michael focused on his breathing, flexing his cut-up fingers, watching the blood colour the tan fabric. “Speaking of which… why haven’t they bothered me since we started talking?”

“Who knows. They’re easily distracted. They probably forgot you were even here, since you haven’t really been going into the office.”

“Charlie, do you know what’s in the backroom?”

She shook its head.

“Can you cover for me while I check? I need… solid evidence. I don’t think memories of a ghost count.”

“I can try.”

He nodded, rubbed his eyes again, then took a deep breath as he retrieved his hammer and went back to the door of the backroom. When he was sure Charlie had gathered the others in the arcade, he began bashing the doorknob until it broke loose from the door. He then stepped back a bit before forcing all of his weight against it, finally popping it open. He scrambled to turn on the light, beginning to cough as the horrible smell of sulphur filled his nostrils.

“Holy shit--!” He couldn’t help but exclaim as he stared at the broken, rotting body of FredBear, its mouth still coated in age-old blood. He stumbled against the wall as his head began to ache, visions flashing before him.

Michael, Michael, why did you kill me Michael, why have you come back to this place, why did you kill me, why wHY WHY

“Evan???”

Michael I’m so cold, why did you kill me, why did you hate me Michael, what did I ever do to you, WHY HATE ME WHY HATE ME

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill you!”

HATED ME HATED ME

“Yes, I hated you!” Michael groaned as he tried to remain upright. “But not as much as I hated William! As much as I hated myself! I just… needed an outlet… hurting people who were smaller than me was the best relief I could get…”

Hated me… Hated me…

“I’m sorry! I mean it… Evan… our father is a horrible, horrible man… it’s his fault that I was the way I was, and it’s my fault you are the way you are now… but I want to help… I want to make everything seem warm and kind for once. Oh, Evan, I put you through so much Hell…”

Michael

“Please… find it in your heart to forgive me… I’m sorry…” Michael had wrapped his arms around his head, trying to hide from the words swirling around in his mind and the angry spirit swimming before his vision.

Save us

“I will… I will…” The pain and fog began to subside as he panted, backing toward the doorway. He blinked hard.

Look inside

“Inside where…??”

Inside

He gasped, fighting off nausea. “I’ll look… I’ll look… ugh… I’m going to close the door now…” He fumbled with the edge of it before pulling it mostly closed. Sweat drenched his clothes as he leaned against the wall, catching his breath. “Fuck me…”

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #michael afton #charlie emily #cc fnaf #crying child fnaf #fredbear #accursed heritage au

[tanakavox]

Even Mutants Fanaus go through Puberty

@thatorigamiguy is the dude that edited this! Thanks man! Was also inspired by that American dad scene!

12 year old Cinder: “What do you MEAN every month?!”

Lisa and Splinter both winced at Cinders shouting, before Lisa offered her a strained, but sympathetic smile while Splinter merely gave her a wary look as he held a box of tampons in both hands.

Lisa: “Cindy, Honey, that’s the uh… glory of being a women-”

Cinder: “I’M NOT USING THESE! EVER!”

Cinder then proceeds to knock the box out of Splinter's hand, before she goes over to the main white couch they use…

Lisa/Splinter: “No/Cinder don’t-!”

…And sat on it, crossing her arms and giving them a defiant look.

Splinter: *Withering sigh* "And that was one of my favorite couches that wasn't beat to hell and back"

12 year old Nora stood stock still, not even her bushy tail normally swaying all over the place even so much as twitched. It was by all means, a feat in and of itself considering she was almost always vibrating with barely contained energy. Her normally jubilant smile pressed into a thin line, and the usual chaotic gleam in her eye was as dull as a rock as she eyed the box of tampons in Splinters hands as if it was the most heretic thing she’d ever laid eyes upon. (Easily the top three, next to wasted pancakes and pizza crimes). She eyes the box in complete silence for nearly ten minutes, which really only made the absolute shared dread between Lisa and Splinter magnify before she finally spoke up.

Nora: "...EVERY Month?"

Lisa: *Winces* "Nora, Sweetie, I know it's... a lot to accept, but-"

But Lisa didn’t get to finish as she was interrupted as Nora breathed out a long withering sigh, before snatching the box of tampons out of Splinter's hand and turning to leave, pausing only long enough to punch a massive hole in a wall of one of their sub-rooms in their abandoned apartment complex home. Lisa gapped at the damage, while Splinter merely rolled his eyes at such dramatics.

Splinter: "Hhmmp, better the wall then something I use."

15 year old Cinder looked into the mirror and saw what had to be the biggest zit in existence on her left cheek. The resounding screech from discovering said zit was so loud, that it nearly broke all of the already broken glass in their home.

Cinder: *Crying* “Look at me, I’m hideous!”

Lisa and Splinter both physically cringed at the mountain on Cinders face, before they both gave her a strained smile as they tried to calm her down.

Lisa: “Now Cindy, it’s… really not that bad!”

Splinter: “You can barely notice it at all my daughter, truly nothing to worry about!”

Unfortunately, Mercury picked the time to come in from a pizza run. 

Mercury: “Hey I’m ba- Whoa! Damn Cinder, your cheek is pregnant! Who’s the father from touching your face all day with their greasy hands URK-!”

The next thing Mercury knew, Cinder's hands were around her throat, her neck coiled in anger as she lifted him up over her head before throwing him out the window… three stories up. Mercury’s screams echoed as he fell, before he landed in the dumpster that the family used and thus prevented what could have been a horrid injury(but not an appropriate humiliation). Lisa looked at the broken window mouth agape, while Splinter grumbled under his breath about how that boy will learn someday. Unbeknownst to them all, Jaune had also walked in shortly afterwards, saw everything that happened… and quickly walked right back out.

Jaune: “Nope, not dealing with this literal dumpster fire.”

He spent the rest of the day at a local arcade that didn’t judge on appearances, eating pizza and playing Third Strike against anyone who would challenge him.

15 year old Nora stared blankly into the hand held mirror she was holding as she looked upon her reflection. Instead of silky smooth skin as she always had, her body had apparently decided to give the middle finger and caused her to break out. Her face was red and covered in a multitude of acne: both small and big, white and balcke heads, and some of which she was sure were just bumps that were there no other reason than to hurt like hell. While the sight of a very upset cinder put the fear of the Brothers into her, the sight of just a quiet and upset Nora made Lisa sympathize with her while Splinter was bold enough to put a comforting hand on Noras shoulder.

Splinter: “If it makes you feel better my daughter, I myself went through quite a few breakout phases. It was a very tedious part of my life, but it will clear up eventually.”

Lisa was honestly surprised that Splinter was the one taking the lead on this, and was honestly touched by the scene…

Mercury: “Hey dad, have you seen-GOD DAMN!”

…Until Mercury came in and ruined the moment. Before she knew it, Lisa’s face met the palm of her hand as Mercury had to, once again, come in and run his mouth. Well, it was his funeral he supposed. Nora’s tail twitched and she found herself gripping so hard onto the mirror that her knuckles were turning bone white. Splinter (after wisely stepping back) tried to salvage the situation by getting his son to shut his big mouth…

Splinter: “Mercury, please think about the next thing that comes out of your mouth-”

…But his words fell on deaf ears.

Mercury: “Jeez Nora, you do know that pizza grease is meant for eating and not for running on your face right? I know you like a slice like the rest of us, but to actually look like a pizza- URK!”

Mercury felt his windpipe being crushed as Nora held a death grip on his throat, staring him down with cold dead eyes. The next thing Mercury knew, he experienced a sudden case of vertigo as he was once again tossed out the window… and straight back into the same dumpster.

Mercury: *Muffled* “OH GOD, I LANDED ON CINDER’S USED TAMPON BAG!”

Nora stomped out the door, mumbling something about “beating up old cars” at a nearby scrap yard. Splinter didn’t even bother to acknowledge it, or Mercury's screams of misery as he grabbed a remote and sat down to get caught up on the local news. Jaune, once again bearing witness to all of this, just went to his room with the pizza he had gotten and quietly ate it while he tinkered around with some gadgets he was working on.

The now seventeen year old Cinder, no longer having to suffer through the hell of puberty, stood on top of the roof in her full kit with her brothers and sister as they all gave her a blank look after denying how she acted during puberty.

Cinder: *Annoyed* "Oh don't give me that look! Besides, you acted no better than I did Nora!"

Nora: *rolling her eyes* "Yeah, yeah puberty sucked, but I didn't act like a complete drama queen about it "fearless leader."

At Nora’s statement, Mercury gave her an incredulous look as if to state otherwise.

Mercury: "Didn’t act like a drama- bullshit Nora! You flew off the handle multiple times!"

Nora: "What are you talking about? All I ever did was either punch holes in walls or went and beat up stuff at the scrap yard."

Mercury: "You threw me out of a window! In fact, you BOTH threw me out of a window!"

Jaune: *deadpan* "That's not them flying off the handle Merc, that's called "paying for the consequences of your own actions."

Mercury: “Consequences of my own- what did I ever do to deserve that! I didn’t do anything!”

The blank, unimpressed looks were now fully focused on Mercury, each one conveying how full of shit he was.

Cinder: “Mercury, that is without doubt the most bold faced lie I’ve ever heard come out of you. You’re ALWAYS doing something to deserve the treatment you get.”

Mercury: "Oh yeah? Like what!?"

Nora: *smirking* "Well, typically it’s because you always open that big fat mouth of yours for starters…"

Jaune: *smirking* "...And then you made the critical mistake of not shutting it fast enough."

Mercury: “Hey, come on, I’m the face of the group! Talking is my specialty, and you all know that my ‘big fat mouth’ has gotten us out of loads of trouble.”

Jaune/Cinder: “Phrasing.”

Mercury goes to speak again, before closing his mouth with an audible click before turning away as he starts grumbling to himself about how he got “no respect.” He grumbled even harder when the rest of his siblings merely laughed at his expense, before they all went jumping through the roof tops to resume their patrol.

#teenage mutant ninja fanaus #ninja fanaus #mutants #mutants au #rwby mercury black #mercury Hamato #jaune arc #jaune Hamato #rwby cinder fall #cinder hamato #nora valkyrie #nora hamato #rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby au #master splinter #lisa lavender

[twilightpony4]

Backwoods: 5. That's Just Lazy Writing

“How the shell you get beat up by two broads, bruh?” Raphael punched Michelangelo in the shoulder as he yelled in Casey’s face. With his breath kicking, the human had reason to push him in the chest.

“She had a SWORD!” He yelled. Mikey went quiet, but he folded his arms and rolled his head. “Can you guys stop trying to put me down and focus for a sec? Splinter was captured by two women who are, definitely not by mistake, NINJAS!”

“Or some women with a sword.” Raphael mumbled. Casey turned and pointed.

“It looked just like Leo’s, not just some medieval-type stuff.”

“If we can deduct anything from this they’re probably female Foot soldiers.” Donatello added whilst he was sitting on top of the dumpster with Venus. Mona stood up from her crouched position from where Casey had previously laid from where they found him. She cocked her hips to the side with a single hand on them.

“It’s about time they pressed the issue of gender equality.” She mumbled. Venus slid off the dumpster.

“What could they specifically want with Splinter?” She questioned. Casey reached into his shoe. A card was poking out of it. She gripped it and handed it to Leo who took it without hesitation.

“This is the card she threw at me.” Casey pointed at it as Leonardo studied it. It was plain cardstock, smooth but not glossed. That’s why it was written by hand and not printed. The handwriting itself was small and obviously rushed. It could be deemed as a “come-or-don’t” invitation. “Think it’s legit? Like, a legit location?” The blue banded turtle quit looking and tapped the end a few times on his opposite fingers.

“Set-up, possibly.”

“You mean ‘set-up, definitely’.” Donatello added while Mona Lisa pointed at him and nodded in agreement. Casey groaned. This was all too frustrating and too fast. Leonardo blew a raspberry.

“We’re going to have to outsmart them if we are going to spring Splinter out of there.” Raphael cocked his brow.

“Assuming he is there in the first place.”

“Aight.” Angel stood up from where she was sitting, which was the middle of all of this whilst listening quietly. She clasped her hands and made various goofy faces to show them she was ready. “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” Leo grabbed her by the shoulder.  “but you’re not in it.” The young girl got into the leader’s face with a big thumbs down.

“Boooo!” 

“Go home Roger.” Donnie called. Angel made a stank face by crinkling her nose. She crossed her arms in a big huff.

“Ya’ll never let me do sh*t.” She muttered.

“You tryna die? Go ahead.” Raph was never one to be subtle. Her attitude changed immediately. 

“Aye imma head home real quick.” Her thumbs pointed to behind her as she stepped back from the middle of the group. Raphael nodded, knowing that she wasn’t going to be down with the real deal.

“Good call.” He whispered as he watched her fall back.

“What’s the real plan?” Venus butted in.

“No plan!” Everyone jumped back as he proceeded nonchalantly. “We Wing it! Probably won't work but I said it with a lot of confidence.” He nodded before turning away from the group and went to climb up the building a little bit away. The family were frozen, watching him. No plan? No way. This is Leonardo, the mastermind of planning.

“Wait. Are you serious?” Mikey chortled as he broke the silence. Leo paused and looked at the ground.

“Yeah.” Mikey’s smile vanished.

“Well, that’s just lazy writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why am I stuck being the driver? I thought Vern was the driver.” Casey complained. Although it was pretty cool getting to drive the tartaruga truck. So many attachments, so large and in charge. Quite a badass for a garbage truck. Raphael swung up to the front of the truck where Casey and Leonardo were seated and held on to the handle above their heads.

“Oh, let me check the truck.” Casey waved him off with his hand. Leonardo chortled silently, shaking his head as Raphael went back to his station. “Quit bitchin and drive.”

“What’s really gonna happen when we get up there?” Casey checked the side mirrors. “I know the floor plan but it ain’t much. I’m not helpin’ out at all?”

“Driving is something.” Leonardo assured. “You are capable of a lot but this is what we need you for right now. You’re the cover, a human being, and one shell of a driver.” Casey nodded in a cocky agreement. “Relay anything you see outside. If you can handle it, handle it. We have to do all the stealth work. Splinter was taken by some unknowns. Right now I’m focused on bringing him back home and collect data on them as we go but first we need sensei out of that building.”

“We’re coming up. I suggest parking over there.” Donatello pointed to the direction where they should move the truck when he looked up from his projections that came out from his wrist. “The building is inside the junkyard so we’re gonna have to take a walk.”

“You guys remember coming out here before we met with April?” Mikey commented as Casey proceeded to park just outside of the junkyard fence.

“What were you guys doing here?” Venus turned around in her swivel chair. Mikey lit up and looked over his shoulder to talk to her.

“Unlike you and lizard lady who got the access to silks and fish…” the sisters rolled their eyes in amusement and listened as he continued. “We boys had to forage for supplies. Once April came around we said bye bye raggedy quilts and hello 1,000 thread counts.” The young turtle grabbed the tail ends of the sweater around his waist and nuzzles his cheek into it as if it weren’t raggedy itself.

“I sometimes still make rounds here for supplies for my lab but I’ve pretty much acquired as much as I need so I haven’t been here in awhile.” Donatello chimed in. “To think someone probably settled in here since the last time we visited…. the yard is barely managed so it wouldn’t be hard to find use of the building.”

“Time to get in there. Let’s go.” Leonardo unbuckled and exited the vehicle and his family followed in suit. The leader came over around Casey’s window and leaned on it. “Hang in tight, keep your phone on.” Casey gave him a nod where Leo returned with a pat to the truck door.

Donatello and Leonardo led the troop. The purple clad turtle had his holograms up to be alarmed by any means of repercussions such as cameras, traps, anything to stop them. Getting inside was easy. From multiple trips, the family already knew how to get inside without using the main gate. Along the fence line was a large hole that never was repaired. Besides, there was no need to actually break into a junkyard at this point of near abandonment. Raphael lifted the flap so the family could go through unscathed. Once the last of them came through he shoved his large body through and followed them behind a pile of junk. 

“Alright, I’m calling a split. You guys know how come of these piles are tall enough to let you look in through the windows? Use the night vision on the Tphones to report what you see. Splinter is out main goal. Mikey, you’re with me.”

“Whyyy?” He whined.

“You don’t wanna be with me?”

“I wanna go with Raph.”

“I’m pairing brains and brawn right now. I know you guys are a super team but that’s not what I need for right now.”

“Oh, so just cuz y’all radios weren’t working and couldn’t hear us the last time we can’t be together no more?” 

“I’m doing this for better execution of a stealth mission. You two aren’t stealth, agree on that?” Mikey took the time to think while the rest coordinated.

“Mona, you’re with me?” Raphael grabbed her hand gently and guided her towards him.

“Actually, can you go with Donnie?”

“There Leo go hatin again!” Mikey whispered loudly.

“Mona is the brawn Venus needs.” He addressed the turtle girl. “Not that you two aren’t brains and brains, but you’re definitely the best stealth team out of all of us.” Venus held up her necklace with her thumbs, acting like a playful showoff. “I’m placing you with Donnie.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Michelangelo rolled his eyes whilst whispering “hater.” Everyone heard it, even Leonardo, but now was the time to focus on bigger things.

“I’m thinking the best entrance would be-.’

“I hope it’s somewhere not around the building.” Mona interrupted.

“Huh?” Everyone said collectively, their eyes veered towards the lizard lady as she looked over towards the backside of the pile. She was locked on something as she continued.

“A colorful batch of colored arms just came out.” The family crawled and tip toed to either sides of the pile to see. Sure enough, a nice sized group of colorful gangsters with guns and bats exited the premises. They showed no sign of leaving as they purposely loitered around the building, which included any types of entries.

“Purple Dragons.” Leo whispered.

“Purple Dragons?!” The family tried to shush Raphael, in which he continued but in a harsh whisper. His eyes were wild. 

“How in the shell Casey get beat up by some Purple Dragons?”

"I’m putting him under April in the reliant list.” Mikey commented.

“Ok, ok.” Leonardo put his hand up to signal both of them to shut up. “I’m thinking. We need to get them away from the doors. If we can we can have entries by the main door, through that open window, and possibly on the side where they keep the scrap metal piles. Donatello began to squeal with low murmurs and hums while making a little step dance.

“I’d like to do the distraction. Please.” He bursted in the quietest way he could.

“Because…?”

“I know something by the warehouse and if it’s still there I would like to use it, please.”

“If it was so cool, why didn’t you bring it back home.” Venus questioned. Obviously he was very excited about it and he would usually have it already in his possesion if it was that cool.

“You’ll see.” He giggled underneath his voice. “Just please, let me do it. It’ll work for sure.” Leonardo tried to weigh his options quickly in his head.

“Alright. Take Raph with you.” Donnie’s fists jerked quickly in front of him as he celebrated a quick victory. “Make the distraction, we’ll follow as we see it fit.”

“Yes! Let’s go Raph.” Donatello looked off the side of the pile and began to sneak off from the group. Raphael followed but he did so with more caution as an excited Donatello frightened him.

Time had passed for a while and the family continued to wait for the distraction they were promised or a return of their two family members to tell them that it was not going to work. Mona sat down as the wait was getting to be too tiresome.

“What do you think Donnie and Raph will do for a distraction?” She posed. Venus shrugged.

“Who knows.” Leonardo joined in.

“They’ll probably, like, you know, make a noise, or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.”

At that moment, the ground shook as a big burst shocked their ears and a red light showed around the outline of the pile they hid behind. Not long after, a big blaring alarm came on. The family jumped up to see all of the commotion. The main entrance of the building was on fire. The Purple Dragons scattered. Some were helping those who caught partially on fire while others ran away.

“Or they could do that.” Mikey pointed out.

“We gotta move!” Once the family saw that the Purple Dragons were beginning to fan out and away from the building, possibly looking for who had done it, they lurked behind the trash and advanced towards the building.

#tmntfanfiction #tmnt2014 #tmnt2016 #backwoods #venusdemilo #monalisa #raphael #donatello #leonardo #casey jones #master splinter

[hosts-biomechs-blog]

New Life

Brad crawled through the vents as fast as he could crawling to the top of the bunker, he could see the sun light he listened and checked for Fluffy he ran out into down town Norwalk,

He rummaged around in the alleyways and dumpsters looking for food, he jumped as he heard foot steps behind him, his tail curled around his leg, looked around in a panic.. but he was trapped, he looked behind him, he hissed and tried to make himself look bigger, "It's ok I'm not gonna hurt you" Brad wasn't hissing or trying to look scary but he was still shaking, she noticed he didn't have a tag or collar but did have a name ingraved "Poor thing, when was the last time you ate?" Brad was still shook from thinking it was Fluffy "You don't look or act feral.. are you lost?" Brad gained the courage to speak up "I- He jumped as thunder roared "I was abandoned" "Here" She pulled a cookie out of her bag "You need it more then I do" Brad ate it in one bite, Rain started pouring "I can't leave him here, he'll die out here" she thought "You could come with me until I can find you a home" Brad thought about it "do I go and risk not having the guaranteed safety of the vents?" Against his better judgment he made a tough decision "I'll come with you" He followed close behind, looking, on edge they got to the house, "You should take a bath before we eat" Brad's hands and feet were black from years of living in the vents, "Here" She handed him a soft towel, He turned the water on and shut the shower curtain, he took a deep breath, he was able to finally stretch out…. He's heart started beating out of his cheat as he heard the door open, he flated on the bottom of the tub.. his heart stopped as the curtain opened, he shut his eyes, "Are you ok? You've been in the shower for 2 hours" "I'm fine..." She could tell he wasn't, Brad washed the soap off and dried off, he walked down to the kitchen.. she cooked 2 bowls of noodles and handed him a large bottle of water, "if your still hungry I have more", After they were done eating Brad stretched some more and was about to go to sleep on the floor, "I have a big enough bed for both of us to comfortably sleep or an old pet bed if you'd rather use that", Brad followed her to her room.. he laid in the pet bed and fell asleep in a minute.

Memories

A cold dark day, the wind cut trough the trees, a storm forming, the outer vents freezing, and the inner vents almost to hot to touch, Fluffy open the bunker door, a loud creek, rattling vents, the red hot coal of the furnace warming the air, a cold sharp sigh from Fluffy made the air feel dank, she was tried, she laid on the coach, Brad moved close to the warm vents, he felt something stab his foot, the smell of blood filled the room, Fluffy let out a deep growl, Brad ran as fast as he could, he could hear Fluffy ripping the the chunks of ceiling, she punched through the vent, she grabbed Brad's tail "AHGGGHH" Brad screamed in pain as Fluffy broke the middle of his tail, He kicked and clawed at Fluffy's arm and he did his best to try to make her let go, he bit her wrist, she let go and Brad was able to get to the top, the freezing air, the struggling and pain took all his breath, he limped to town, Fluffy followed, stalking him, following the blood. "AHGG I CAN"T BELIEVE HE GOT AWAY" Fluffy slammed the door, it rattled the upper floor, She stomped upstairs Chett felt a chill down his spin, pure, unfiltered fear, he knew what Fluffy can and will do, She walked into Chett's room. "you" he backed away, "it's your fault" he gasped when he felt his back touch, Fluffy pulled her arm back, Blood covered her hand as she punched Chett, her phone buzzed, Chett tried to crawl away as she checked her phone, she saw this as a challenge, She stomped Chett's ankle, a horrible snap, her phone buzzed again "what do they not understand about leave me alone" Fluffy growled and kick Chett as hard as she could, he coughed up thick red blood, she left for work, Chett started regenerating his bones as he stood up.

Brad: Chett please I can't leave you here Brad said in sad mournful tone Chett chuckled Chett: it's ok i'd rather it be me then you, i can't die, you can Brad: please Chett: go, before she gets you

New Life

she woke up before Brad did, she saw a wound on his foot, it looked infected, she woke Brad up, he woke with a start, "what happened to your foot?" "i cut it on a lose screw" "be still, i need to bandage it" Brad curled his leg as she put antibiotics on it, he jumped when he set his foot on his tail, "whats wrong?" "my tail got broke" he whimpered "it's healed but it still hurts" she was worried about who would do such a thing to a domesticated bot, Brad did not say anything, Brad rubbed his bandaged foot on the rug, he could smell pancakes being cooked, he limped to the table, she was shocked at how tall he was standing straight up, "careful the top ones hot" He grabbed a few from the bottom "Theres some syrup and some other stuff if you like" He grabbed four pancakes and coated them in syrup, she cooked a few more, the cold winter morning made Brad shiver, after he was done eating he grabbed a cover and wrapped himself tightly, he tried to go back to sleep but couldn't, it was to cold in the house, She got up and grabbed a thick blanket, after turning on the TV she put the blanket over Brad, He purred without realizing it, Brad still freezing even under 2 blankets, "I have some clothes that you could use" He was unsure that her clothes would fit he but followed her, "I don't think my pants would fit but I have some knee highs uh some skirts that touchs the ground, well on me at least, the shirts might be a little high on you" Brad grabbed the socks and put them on, He liked the fuzzy shocks, She put the clothes down on the bed next to him, she looked for something for his tail but couldn't find anything, When she turned around she saw Brad was loaf, Brad tried to sleep on the couch but he couldn't get the thought out of his head that Fluffy is stalking from the shadows, "I'm safe.. if she knew where I was she would have killed me already.. I'm not in danger…I'm safe" he thought to himself, the TV helped distracted him enough to doze off, she noticed his tail twitching in his sleep, As she watched TV she zoned out not paying much attention, she pet his tail without thinking and Brad woke up quite surprised but purring, his tail wagged as she pet him, Brad fell back to sleep as she petted him, he was extremely exhausted, She was about to leave to go to the store but felt bad about leaving without saying anything, she left a note "I'm at the store I'll be back in a bit" He was in deep sleep, she got some fresh fruit, some meat, water and milk, Brad woke up, he read the note, he nervously looked out the window, He was still hungry, he grabbed some precooked bacon and a tortilla, he wrapped the bacon up and ate it, she opened the door with the groceries and set them on the table, he saw the fresh fruit and started drooling, "You can have some if your hungry" He ate a banana and was full, unfortunately he doesn't have a strong appetite, she wanted to take Brad to a mechanic but she didn't want to break the trust, he didn't want to leave the house, she couldn't imagine him living in a different house, Brad looked at the gummy vitamins on the table confused, he opened it "hey don't take more then one, you'll get sick" he ate a red one, he wasn't sure how he felt about the texture, the tip of his tail wiggled when he saw her pull eggs out, she took that as a yes he wants some, Brad tapped excitedly as she scrambled the eggs, she heard a concerning crunch, she looked behind her and say Brad eating the shells, she didn't say anything, she knew bots need a lot of calcium but she didn't think he would eat an egg shell, she fixed a lot of scrambled eggs, he's tail was wagging while he scarfed down eggs, Brad jumped at the thunder, he jumped on the bed and hid under the blankets, his fur spiked up, he was whimpering and shaking, she didn't see his tail on the floor, Brad made loud squeaks "SORRY" Brad cried, his tail squirmed, she petted his head, the tip of his tail started wagging,

Part 1 of lore dump Part 2 of lore dump part 3 of lore dump

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,921 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: prison era Warnings: language, serious injury, violence, gore, angst A/N: SURPRISE ONE SHOT! I LOVE being able to roll two requests into one for ya'll! Hope you love this! Requested by:Anon and anon! Summary: The group goes to rescue Daryl from Woodbury and must deal with the consequences.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Jesus Christ. Rick…” Your eyes were fixed on the makeshift arena, ringed with elevated torches. Boisterous and angry crowds were screaming and waving their fists. “They’re gonna kill each other.” Your stomach turned.

Rick watched with disgust as Daryl and Merle threw punches and tussled in the arena.

“Are those walkers?!” Maggie asked urgently in a harsh whisper.

Men with long grappling tools were bringing in some of the dead, closing in around Daryl and Merle. “Yeah,” Rick growled, his jaw clenching.

Your heart was pounding so fast it was just a whir in your chest. Your hands clenched on your weapon. “Fuck this,” you said, squeezing off a few rounds which caused several of the walkers’ heads to explode and the bodies to crumple to the ground. Screams and chaos broke out but you could still make out Merle and Daryl back-to-back in the center. Rick tossed a flash-bang smoke bomb into the arena and more shooting started in earnest.

You dashed across the narrow space from the dumpster you were all using as cover and took up a position behind a concrete balustrade, squinting as you tried to see through the drifting clouds of smoke. But even with your eye to the scope of your gun, it was nearly impossible to focus on anything. The crowds of people running were just a blur of colors and dim shapes. “Where are you, you son of a bitch?” You growled through gritted teeth. You were looking for him, the Governor. But you were also looking for Daryl. “Fuck!” You dropped the scope and squinted again into the darkness. There was more shooting as Rick and Maggie dropped a few of the Woodbury militia toting weapons.

You couldn’t see Daryl. Where was Daryl? Rick must have known what was on your mind because he glanced across the gap at you. You were on your feet but still hunched over, looking like you were ready to run. “Y/N. Don’t! Y/N!” But it was too late. You made a dash out from your cover, dodging bullets being fired almost blindly from some of the Governor’s men, and rushed toward the arena.

“DARYL!” You yelled it into the smoke and ducked behind a low concrete wall. Pressing your back into the rough material was almost grounding. You could almost feel some of the bullets whizzing past your hiding place. “DARYL!” The ringing in your ears from all the gunfire was so loud it was hard to even hear which direction the shooting was coming from.

Somewhere in the smoke, he heard you and straightened up from a figure he’d just thrown to the ground. “Y/N?!”

You heard his voice. “DARYL?” You fired off a few rounds and took out a walker and a woman with an assault rifle. “OVER HERE!”

“Merle! Let’s go! This way!” The archer spotted a guard with his crossbow and surprised him, grabbing it from him without slowing. “Y/N?!”

You popped up to shout to him again, but a spray of bullets in your direction had you dropping down again and swearing under your breath, gasping a little from the close call. “Fuck! Oh, shit…”

You heard Rick calling to you and Daryl, and looking back toward the dumpster you saw the beam of his flashlight. You unstuck yourself from the concrete behind you and, keeping low, dashed back to Rick and Maggie. “Daryl?” you asked urgently as Rick’s hand on your back pushed you toward the darkness ahead.

“He’s right there! Go!” Rick said.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Daryl running full-speed toward you, his crossbow in his hand. You couldn’t help smiling at him as he finally slowed beside you. “Are you alright?!” you asked, searching him for injuries. “Daryl, your face—” He had red welts raising on his face from Merle’s hits.

“‘M fine. Are you?” he drawled back.

That’s when Merle finally spoke up and the smile on your face completely disappeared. “We ain’t got time for a goddamn cozy catch up! Follow me!”

Daryl hazarded a glance at your face and it seemed to darken before his eyes. “C’mon,” he prodded you gently, adjusting his bow in his hands. “We gotta get outta here.”

Your group followed Merle to a section of the outer wall, which he bashed open with his metal prosthetic arm. You felt a hot stitch in your side and your eyes whirred anxiously over the street ahead until Rick whistled for you to follow the others out and through the wall. Daryl was the last out, covering your back as you stepped out of Woodbury.

Then it was a frantic run to get away and back to Michonne and Glenn. You soon felt like you couldn’t run anymore and your lungs felt tight, burning from exertion. But you kept pushing, clutching an arm around your middle to press at the stitch which was threatening to double you over. At last, the vehicle and Glenn and Michonne came into view. But the next moment it was all chaos as they realized who had come back with Daryl.

Daryl planted himself in front of his brother as he and Rick tried to talk them down. Gun and sword drawn, there was so much yelling you couldn’t even make out the words. You and Maggie stood slightly apart, both sickened at the sight of Merle after the role he’d played in serving you up to the Governor, but unwilling to engage in any physical altercation after the intensity of the scrape you’d just gotten out of.

Suddenly, the stitch in your side became a stabbing, hot pain. You wrapped your arm around yourself and pressed your hand to it and then your knees hit the forest floor. Your gun dropped off your shoulder and clattered to the ground. This finally shut everyone up and redirected their attention. Daryl was beside you in an instant, all thought of his brother vanishing immediately, his face clouded with concern. He watched as you peeled your hand away from your side revealing that your palm was sticky with deep crimson. It was then that you realized that your shirt was soaked with blood. The stitch in your side wasn’t a stitch: you’d been shot.

You collapsed back onto the ground and the fire in your lungs seemed to increase, and suddenly you were having trouble breathing. Your heartbeat was pounding loudly in your ears, almost dorwning out any other sound. Daryl’s face was pale above yours.

“Shit. Shit! Alrigh’. Alrigh’,” he murmured, examining the wound. “It ain’t that bad, okay? Yer—yer gonna be fine.” The others were suddenly all around you, too, everyone except Merle, who was still standing with his back leaned up against a tree, watching the scene before him unfold, his eyes fixed mainly on his brother.

Your eyes widened as your lungs seemed to stop drawing air. You reached out and gripped onto Daryl’s arm hard. “Can’t—breathe—” you gasped. You were barely able to get the words out and your voice was constricted and raspy. You felt like you were suffocating. Daryl saw growing panic in your eyes.

“Just relax—s’okay! Y/N! Listen t’me. S’gonna be alright. Yer gonna be fine!” But you could read your own panic reflecting in his eyes now. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight.

Maggie dropped to her knees beside you and looked at the wound and your pale face which now seemed to be graying. “I need a clean knife and some tubing or somethin’. A pen, a water bottle nozzle, anythin’!”

“I think there’s something in the car!” Glenn said, rushing clumsily to his feet.

Daryl had your hand pressed between his and was leaning over you looking desperate. You flinched as Maggie applied pressure to the bullet wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Your breathing was coming in shallow gasps as you looked up at Daryl. You tried as hard as you could to get the most important words out. “Keep—going—” you gasped. Your voice was thin.

Daryl shook his head. “No. No, Y/N. Yer gonna be fine. Yer gonna be fine!” His blue eyes glistened with tears.

You couldn’t draw any more air and clutched your free hand to your chest. The pain was excruciating.

“Y/N! Y/N, ya gotta make it. Ya gotta fight! If ya die and I live—I got nothin’! Yer gonna be—yer gonna be fine—”

“Got it!” Glenn skidded back to the ground beside Maggie, a pen in hand. She hurriedly disassembled it.

“Knife,” she said. Rick handed her his small hunting knife. She cut through your shirt so she could better see the wound. There was the bullet hole, right in the middle of your ribs on your side. She prodded just below it with her fingers and Daryl watched as she lined up the tip of the knife between two of your ribs.

“What the hell are ya doin’?” He asked urgently. “Maggie! What the hell are ya—”

“Hold her still,” Maggie snapped.

“What’re ya—”

“Daryl! Hold her still!”

He gulped and obeyed, realizing suddenly that you seemed to be heading toward unconsciousness, your head lolling to the side. Your face was an alarming shade of grey-blue. You couldn’t breathe. Daryl grasped your shoulders and pressed your back into the ground. With a quick jab, Maggie stuck the knife into your side, below the wound, which was still bleeding heavily. You jerked once and then fell unconscious. “Glenn, gimme that pen!” Maggie inserted the tube from the pen into the incision she’d just made and there was the sound of a rush of air and some blood came trickling out. But Daryl watched in relief as your chest started to rise and fall again and slowly the color returned to your face, although your brow remained clammy with sweat.

“Wh—what the hell was that?” he asked Maggie.

“She has a punctured lung. Air built up around her lungs until they collapsed and she couldn’t breathe anymore. I’ve seen my dad do this,” she explained. “On our neighbor once after he fell off a horse.” She climbed to her feet and turned to Rick. “We gotta get her back to my dad now.”

Rick nodded and everyone was a blur of action. Daryl scooped you up as gently as he could and carried you to the vehicle, slipping into the middle seats with you still across his lap. Everyone else was throwing gear in the back and piling in where they could. Merle finally straightened up and paced toward the vehicle. “Well, hey! What ‘bout me?” he asked, arms extended.

Glenn moved toward him like he was about to pick a fight but Maggie grabbed his arm gently. “We ain’t got time for this. She ain’t got time.” Glenn stopped and climbed into the back beside Maggie. Michonne slid into the front passenger seat.

Rick shot a glare at Merle as he finished loading the gear and slammed the trunk. “You can walk. If you make it, we’ll think about what to do with you,” he growled.

“Hey, now! Little brother, you ain’t just gonna let them leave me out here? Hey!” But it seemed as if Daryl didn’t hear anything. He was too busy accepting a spare bit of fabric from Maggie and trying to press it to the bullet wound in your side to stop the bleeding.

He stared down at you desperately, totally silent, as Rick floored the vehicle as fast as he dared and it leapt over the asphalt. Every bump jostled your head and your body stayed limp in his arms. The ride felt both infinitely long and abruptly short. He couldn’t help brushing his fingers through your hair, wiping the beads of sweat on your clammy skin. He felt suspended above himself, looking down at this nightmare of a scene. The vehicle finally slowed and Daryl glanced up, away from your face, to see the prison beyond the gates. Carol and Carl pulled them open and the car rumbled through. Rick sped up to the prison and everyone rushed to climb out.

“I’ll get my dad and we’ll start gettin’ ready. Bring her in,” Maggie said, her feet barely on the ground.

“Do you need help?” Rick asked Daryl.

“I got her,” he drawled as he carefully climbed out with you in his arms, your body still limp and the crimson on your shirt now shockingly obvious. His blue eyes finally lifted and met Rick’s. He looked terrified. Rick had never seen that intense look of fear in Daryl’s eyes before and it twisted his stomach into a knot.

He led the way into the prison, holding the doors so Daryl could pass through easily with you in his arms, and soon you met Hershel, Glenn, and Maggie with a stretcher. Daryl rested you down so gently you barely moved as his arms slipped from you. Glenn and Maggie hurriedly pushed the stretched back into the cellblock and into the area where they kept all the medical supplies. Daryl was standing beside you, his hands clenched together with white knuckles as he watched helplessly as chaos erupted around you. You were the only thing not moving. Hershel grabbed a tank of oxygen and a mask and secured it over your face. Daryl shifted anxiously, feeling sick and lost as he watched Hershel listen to your lungs and take your pulse before examining the wound in your side.

His expression was grim when he looked up at Rick and the sheriff gulped and glanced over at Daryl. Daryl seemed to be in a daze, his eyes fixed on your face. “How bad?” Rick asked in an undertone.

“Maggie did the right thing with the chest tube. She has a punctured lung. Whether that’s because of the bullet itself or a fragment of bone as a result of the bullet I can’t say. And I need to stop the bleeding soon. Her pulse is weakening and she’s losing color. She needs surgery, but—” he broke off.

Rick straightened up and nodded, encouraging him to go on, even with the bad news.

“It’s unlikely I can repair her lung without more advanced medical imaging and better supplies, and with the severity her symptoms suggest it most likely won’t heal on it’s own. But we have no way to really know how substantial the damage is and where exactly the bullet is. If she doesn’t die from blood loss or the punctured lung, I’m worried about infection.”

Daryl’s head snapped up and his face clouded with a shadow. “What do you need to make sure she—? I’ll get it. I’ll go out right now and get it.”

Hershel frowned. “It’s not that simple, son. We need an operating theater. X-ray machine, ventilator, and electricity to run it. And we don’t have time to wait. I need to do this surgery now as best I can with what we have. We’ve got antibiotics, sterile instruments, gauze… the best I can do is stop the bleeding and try to get any fragments of bone and bullet out that I can reach. After that, it’ll be up to her.”

Daryl felt his heart tighten into a pit and his eyes drifted back to your still form on the cot. “Then do it. She’s a fighter. She’s tough. She’ll make it.” He wanted to reach for your hand, but he was afraid of how cold it might feel. “She has to make it…” he trailed off.

After that, the chaos resumed. Rick guided Daryl out and away from you with some effort. “You don’t want to see that,” he said. “And they need room to work.” The archer began pacing the length of the room endlessly, chewing on his thumbnail until his finger bled. Carol had arrived from the gate with Carl, and she and Maggie were assisting Hershel. The only thing that Daryl could be grateful for was that they had the supplies from the infirmary to make sure you stayed unconscious and to give you antibiotics in hopes of staving off an infection. But everything else—all the uncertainty—it was crushing him. They had gotten you, Glenn, and Maggie out, but he’d been taken because he’d gone to look for Merle. The whole reason you got shot was because you all had come back to look for him. This was his fault. If you died, it was his fault…

The guilt was making him feel nauseous and he simply couldn’t sit still. It felt like an eternity before Carol came out from the other part of the cellblock. He froze and felt light-headed as she approached. She was wringing her hands.

Daryl couldn’t breathe and was trying to decode her expression before she even spoke.

“She’s made it through the surgery. We got the bleeding stopped and Hershel got a couple fragments of the bullet out, but we didn’t get all of them. The last ones are too deep and he can’t see enough to get to them safely. She has a broken rib, too but he stabilized it. We just have to wait and see now,” she told him.

His throat felt constricted and he was having trouble trying to get any words out. “And—and her lung?”

Tears burned in Carol’s eyes as she thought of your condition and watched Daryl struggling in front of her. She shook her head. “He couldn’t do anything for it. So, we have to hope that her body can heal from that on its own.”

Daryl felt his eyes burning and blinked the tears away, chewing on his bottom lip, biting the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from breaking down. He nodded, unable to speak at all now from the blockage in his throat. He rubbed a hand over his face and stared desperately at Carol.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know…” She grabbed him into a hug, but he just stood there, tense under her arms until she straightened up again. She pushed some of his hair away from his eyes affectionately. “You’re right. She’s tough. She’ll fight. We’re going to bring her into a cell, okay?”

Daryl nodded and stepped back from Carol right as Maggie came through pushing you on a stretcher. Glenn was still using a bag to ventilate you as the anesthetic wore off. They pushed the stretcher into the nearest cell and Daryl stepped inside. Maggie gave his arm a gentle squeeze as she passed him, and her eyes lingered on your face for a moment. She was worried. Daryl could feel Glenn’s eyes on him too and he glanced up. “Lemme do that,” Daryl said. “Yer beat up. Go rest.”

Glenn hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I got it.” Daryl took the bag from him and squeezed, pushing air into your lungs. Hershel came in beside him.

“She should be starting to come off the anesthesia soon,” he said in a low voice to the archer. “She’ll start to fight the tube and I’ll need to remove it.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya sure she’ll be able to breathe on her on?” He felt somehow both numb and intense pain at the same time. It felt like someone else’s voice asking the questions.

“She should be able to. We left the chest tube in so no pressure builds up around her lungs again,” Hershel explained.

He was right. It wasn’t five more minutes before Hershel needed to remove your intubation tube and Daryl no longer had to help you breathe, but the oxygen mask remained on your face and Hershel switched over to a new bag on your IV. You didn’t wake up and Daryl stood beside you, finally daring to gently take hold of your hand and warm it in his. Your skin still felt chilled. He turned and pulled a heavier blanket from the bunk behind him and draped it over you. Hershel placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“If anything changes, come and get me,” he said gently. Daryl nodded. When he glanced up, his family was clustered around the door, everyone looking in with the same grim expressions. And that’s when he suddenly realized; Merle. He looked at Rick and unstuck his tongue from the room of his mouth.

“Merle?” he asked. His voice was raspy with emotion.

Rick’s face darkened. “He knows where to find us. We’ll deal with that when it’s time.”

Daryl’s mind raced for a moment as he imagined something happening to his brother while he tried to make it to the prison, but then he came to a realization; none of this would have happened if Merle hadn’t taken you, Glenn, and Maggie to Woodbury. And as much as he was blaming himself, maybe he should be blaming his brother.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was sometime in the middle of the night and Daryl was still sitting awake beside you. Beth had brought in a chair for him so he could at least sit down while he held vigil. He was fingering the hilt of his knife aimlessly, watching you carefully for any change. Everyone else was either outside on watch or in their cells asleep. The first thing he noticed was that your breath hitched in your chest. He sat up straighter, panic already growing as he stared, willing you to take another breath. Finally, you did, but it was accompanied by you stirring on the pillow, your face contorting a little in a pained expression.

Daryl shot to his feet. “Y/N?” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Y/N?”

Your eyes dragged open with great effort and you struggled to focus on anything in the darkness. It took you a long moment to get your bearings and then you lifted a hand and began to pull at the oxygen mask on your face.

Daryl stopped you. “Hey—s’ok,” Daryl said, barely containing his emotion at seeing your eyes open and you moving after so many hours of stillness. “Leave that on. Ya need it.”

You ceased trying to pull it off and turned to try and look over at him. You could barely make him out in the darkness. “Hi,” you rasped out. Your throat was dry and hot, like you’d swallowed a coal.

Daryl pressed your hand more firmly between his. “Hey. How—how’re ya feelin’?”

You considered his question for a moment, trying to determine that for yourself. “Foggy,” you said. “Hurts. Tired.”

The archer’s expression flinched into a pained one briefly before he managed to control it. He nodded. “Lemme get Hershel,” he said. He tried to drop your hand but you squeezed his hard and it stopped him in his tracks. He gave you a questioning look.

“You heard what I said, right?” you managed. “No matter what happens to me, you have to keep going.”

Daryl felt like a hot poker had been shoved between his lungs. He shook his head. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to ya. Hershel fixed ya up. Yer gonna be fine. Ya just need some time to heal up.”

Your eyes flickered between his, which looked deeply blue in the shadow of the evening. “Don’t lie to me.” He ducked his head. “I might be fine, but I can tell there’s a greater chance I won’t be.”

“Y/N—”

“No, listen to me,” you said, pulling the oxygen mask from your face. Daryl could hear a wheeze in your breathing with the effort of talking.

“Put yer mask back on,” he begged, reaching for it. “Y/N—”

“Listen. Promise me, Daryl. You're my favorite person in the world. And I need you to promise me,” you pulled in another wheezy breath and your face contorted in pain again. “You’ll go on and be fine. Better than fine. Promise.”

Daryl finally succeeded in getting the oxygen mask back over your nose and mouth gently and he struggled to suppress the upwelling of emotion in his chest from the way you were talking. But he shook his head. “I ain’t promising that, alrigh’? ‘Cuz yer gonna be fine. And yer my favorite person in the world, too.” His heart was pounding as he hesitated to tell you what had been on his mind since he’d laid eyes on you during the chaos back at Woodbury. “Yer—” he ducked his head and let out a shaky sigh. “I—” But he couldn’t get the damn words out.

Miraculously, it seemed he didn’t need to. You gave his hand a squeeze, strong and firm, and looked up at him with a peaceful expression on your face. “I know,” you said. “Me too.”

You drifted in and out of sleep, and Daryl insisted on keeping watch over you. The others tried to convince him to lay down on the bunk and sleep, but he refused. He was too afraid that if he closed his eyes, you’d slip away.

And then later that day there was a commotion. Merle had found the prison, arriving down at the gate and being marched in at gunpoint by Rick and Carol. They locked him up in a cell and Carol marched straight to Daryl.

One look and he was on his feet. “He’s in the other cell block,” she explained. Daryl glanced down at you. You were asleep and your breathing, though a bit shallow, seemed steady. “Go on. I’ll stay with her.”

Daryl gently rested your hand down on the bed and rushed through the prison. Merle smirked from where he was leaning up against the bars at the far end of the cellblock. “Well, shit, baby brother! Nice of you to come visit little old me.”

Daryl’s chest was heaving with anger.

“What’s the matter with you, sourpuss? Did your little skirt kick the bucket?”

Daryl lunged toward the bars and tried to grab Merle through them but he moved back just in time and let out a whistle and some wry laughter. “Ya best be glad these fuckin’ bars are in the way!” Daryl spat.

Merle smirked. “Or what? You really think you could whoop me, Darylina? Way I see it, we’ve settled that you can’t time and time again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Merle! Yer lucky my people didn’t shoot you on fuckin’ sight for what you’ve done! This shit is all yer damn fault!”

Merle rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Daryl. The archer’s fists were clenched and his chest was still heaving with fury. “I didn’t shoot your beau. Way I see it that’s on you. They came back for your sorry ass.” Merle knew he was striking a nerve as Daryl turned away abruptly and started to stride quickly back to the doorway. “She’s got you wrapped round her little finger, don’t she?” He laughed. Daryl had to resist throwing a punch into the wall as he left his brother behind.

One week later

“Whoa—what’re ya doin’?” Daryl said, quickly climbing to his feet and blocking you from climbing down off the bed. You were weak and Daryl thought you seemed fragile, but you were alive and Hershel had told him this was longer than he thought you’d last. Your lung must be healing. But you still had a chest tube in and you were still on oxygen. Rick and Michonne had had to make a supply run to get more tanks from a nearby clinic. But you were healing.

Daryl slept on the bunk beside your stretcher in case you needed anything in the middle of the night, and he seemed unwilling to leave your side for more than a few minutes at a time.

You gripped onto the rolling IV bag stand which also held the oxygen tank and gave him a long look. “I want to walk around,” you said. Your voice was a little muffled behind the mask.

Daryl scratched his head anxiously. “I ain’t—I ain’t sure that’s a good idea. What if ya fall?”

You cocked your head at him. “Daryl, we both know you’d never let me fall.”

“I—I dunno… Lemme go check with Hershel,” he drawled.

“Don’t check with Hershel. Just help me walk around for a minute. I can’t keep sitting in this bed.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he caved, sighing and offering you his hand a little nervously as you climbed out of bed.

“Alrigh’, just—take it easy. Don’t rush. Nice and slow…” You could hear the worry in his voice and you glanced over at him, a small smile on your lips, crinkling the corners of your eyes.

You pulled the oxygen mask away from your face for a moment and looked at him. “What would I do without you?”

He ducked his head and just started to lead the way out of the cell. You stopped him at the threshold.

“Daryl. Wait. There’s something I need to say.” He turned back and met your eyes. Your expression was serious and his heart panged at the sight of you still connected to the IV and oxygen with a tangle of tubes and you still seemed somewhat diminished from all your time in bed. “This isn’t your fault, you know.”

Daryl felt his breath catch in his throat. He’d never told you he blamed himself but somehow you just knew.

“It’s not,” you insisted. “I’m—I’m not even sure that I should be blaming Merle as much as I am… It’s his fault. The Governor.”

Daryl gulped and his heart started to race. He still had your hand lightly in his. “When I thought ya were gonna—we thought ya weren’t—” He still couldn’t speak about it. But he didn’t need to. Even when he wasn’t good with words, you always seemed to know what he was trying to say.

“I know,” you said softly. “But it’s not your fault. You have to know that.”

He met your eyes again and turned to square his shoulders with yours. There was something in his expression, some emotion on his face, a softness that seemed to send your entire body tingling. You pulled the oxygen mask off and stared at him. “Kiss me,” you said softly, nervous but also standing on the edge of a precipice you were too happy to plummet into if he’d just give you a nudge. “Please.”

Daryl’s heart jumped and fluttered in his chest. He gulped nervously. “Are—are ya sure?”

You smiled at him and nodded, your eyes looking a little starry and perhaps even glistening a little more than they should have been from the dim light coming in through the high windows. He nervously stepped toward you and you watched as his lips parted a little. He shifted anxiously on his feet and drank in the expectant expression on your face, the shade of your irises, as you looked up at him. Your eyes fluttered closed as he clasped your face, gently like he was cradling thin porcelain he was afraid would crack beneath his touch. His lips met yours softly and you kissed him back eagerly.

It was soft and slow and sweet, but it kindled fires in both your chests and it was far too soon when he pulled back. He took in your expression again and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Then he stepped back a little begrudgingly, but he didn’t look away from you. You felt your cheeks flushing with warmth and laughed as you pulled the oxygen mask back on over your nose and mouth. “Gotta say,” you said, drawing in a deep breath, “it’s a good thing I have this oxygen right now. I feel a little lightheaded,” you said in a daze.

Daryl’s brow furrowed with concern and you laughed. “In a good way, Daryl,” you said softly. “I’m fine. Better than fine.”

He cleared his throat and awkwardly rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Ya still wanna go on this walk?” he drawled nervously. He felt a little shaky and a little dazed himself…

“Duh,” you said. You let him help you through the cellblock and your family beamed at you to see you up and about, but it wasn’t long before you were tired and sore again and had settled back into bed to rest.

Daryl gave you one final look and couldn’t help a small smile that grew on his lips. “I’ll be back in a bit, alrigh’? Just rest.”

The archer wandered outside and was surprised to see Merle soaking in the sunshine. Daryl had hardly said two words to him since their fight. Merle still got locked into a different cellblock at night, non-negotiable in Glenn’s opinion, but he was starting to earn more and more freedom at least. Daryl’s jaw clenched as his brother started to wander over.

“Hey there, baby brother,” Merle drawled. He seemed to be trying to read Daryl’s mood. “Don’t you think it’s about time we bury the hatchet?”

Daryl faced him, his expression serious. “You best be glad Y/N is getting better. Or you’d be outta here in a second,” he growled.

Merle seemed taken aback for a moment, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Daryl. He held his hands up. “It was just business, Darylina.”

“Nah. I don’t wanna hear anymore bullshit from you. How the fuck could ya do what ya did for that guy? Huh? Ya better fuckin’ find some way to make up for it. ‘Cuz you ain’t my only family anymore,” he spat. “They are.”

Merle let out an exhale that was half amusement and half surprise. “Seems like you’ve grown some great big cojones since Hot-lanta!” He glanced back toward the prison. “This all to do with that skirt? I heard what ya said back then, out there in the woods. That if she died you’d have ‘nothin’,” he said, almost mockingly. “Guess that makes me chopped liver.”

Daryl shook his head. “You’ll always be my brother, but that don’t change the fact that you’ve been a real piece of shit sometimes. And Y/N? She is everything. And she’s always treated me like—like I’m worth somethin’ to her. Tha’s more than I can say for you.” Daryl turned and headed back inside, eagerly making his way back to the cellblock and sinking down at your bedside. You were asleep and he sighed contentedly at the sight of you peaceful on the pillow. Just that sight seemed to take away all the anger and tension from his interaction with Merle. You were everything. And you made him feel like he was too.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon angst #fluffy ending #happy ending

[itsapeterthing]

Lollipop || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: your brother and his best friend find themselves in a fight after a few boys don’t know when to shut their mouth.

a/n: reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: fighting, mentions of blood, someone makes a suggestive comment about reader

masterlist || request || taglist

1935

“What do you think you’re doin’, punk?” He asked, plucking the lollipop from your hand. “I thought Steve told you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Kneeling beside you behind the dumpster, Bucky pulled the wrapping off of the top of the lollipop, slipping it into his mouth. Swatting your brother’s best friend, you scolded him in a hushed voice.

“Hey! Big mouth!” You whispered. “Can you stop talkin’ so loud? Someone’s gonna find us if you don’t shut up. Thanks for stealing my lollipop by the way.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, raising his eyebrows, pulling the candy out of his mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Consider it payment for keepin’ my mouth shut. The hell you doing back here anyway?”

You were asking yourself the same question.

You and your brother Steve always walked home together at the end of the school day when he met you at your locker after the final bell rung. However earlier that day, your brother had come up to you, his eyes unable to meet yours, telling you to wait for him out front after school was over for the day because he ‘had something he had to do’ afterwards. Not even giving you a chance to ask him why, your brother had stormed off to his next class.

Not one to mind your own business when it came to Steve, as soon as the dismissal bell rung, you disobeyed his orders, making your way to the back of the school, hiding behind the dumpster you and Bucky were situated at now.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He asked. “I haven’t seen him since lunch. Why? What’d he say?”

Shaking your head, you glanced at the door of the building as it opened. “Nothing. He was acting really weird-”

Cutting yourself short, you stopped speaking as you saw two boys you recognized, coming out the back door of the school, laughing with one another. Shutting yourself up, you tugged on the sleeve of Bucky’s t-shirt when you saw none other than your brother Steve emerge from the door seconds later.

“Hey!” Steve called to the two boys.

“What the hell is he doing?” Bucky whispered to you.

Pulling his shirt tighter, your eyes growing wide, you both continued to watch the scene unfold in front of you.

“Listen, Rogers, if you know what’s good for you you’ll go back inside.” The boy you recognized as Matthew said, turning around.

“Take back what you said.” Your brother said, his hands balling into fists at his side. When he received no answer from either of the boys, he raised his voice. “I said take back what you said in the bathroom!”

The two boys glancing at each other, one of them raised his voice.

“Yeah? Or what?”

Rather than replying, you watched as your brother raised his fists to his eye line, but before anything could come from it, one of the boys strode over to Steve, swinging a punch to his face before he could even block it, the other kicking him to the ground.

“Shit!” Bucky swore, shrugging your hand off of his shirt and rising to his feet. “Stay here.”

“But Buck-” You began.

Taking the lollipop out of his mouth, he shoved it into your hands, pointing his finger at you. “I said- stay here.”

You watched with wide eyes as your brother’s best friend, made his way around the dumpster, over to the fight happening before your eyes.

“Hey!” Bucky called, the boys’ heads turning at the sound of his voice. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Grabbing the collar of one of the boy’s shirts, Bucky shoved him against the wall, throwing a punch to his face.

“What the hell did these guys do to piss you off so bad, Steve?” Bucky asked, holding Matthew against the wall.

Answering for him, the boy smiled, showing off his bloody teeth. “All I said was that it’s a good thing y’all are so poor. If the Rogers could buy better clothes we wouldn’t get to see Y/n’s panties through her skirt every time she-“

“Keep her name outta your God damn mouth!” Steve shouted before he took another blow to his face.

Beginning to feel his blood boil at the sight of the boy in front of him, Bucky’s jaw clenched as he grabbed Matthew by the collar with both hands and threw him onto the ground.

“C’mon Barnes,” The boy laughed. “You’ve seen her. You’re tellin’ me you spend all your time with that charity case friend of yours without wanting anythin-”

Practically seeing red, Bucky climbed on top of him, and began throwing a series of punches against the boy’s face. 

Although you were Steve’s sister, Bucky had known you well enough that he wasn’t going to back away from a fight where your name was being dragged through the mud. He had known you practically his whole life- you and Steve were a packaged deal, having been adopted by the Rogers as an infant and raised as Steve’s sister. Although he teased the hell out of you, he had always had a soft spot for his best friend’s sister and he wasn’t about to let some asshole talk that way about you without getting his face beat in.

Despite Bucky’s orders, you couldn’t sit by and watch your brother get beat up by the boy on top of him while Bucky took out the other. Slipping the lollipop that was in your hands into your own mouth, you grabbed the piece of plywood that was laying against the dumpster beside you and stood up. Making your way around the dumpster over to where the fight was going on, you came up behind the unnamed boy that was on top of your brother. Lifting the piece of wood in your hands, you swung it across the back of the his head.

A loud yelp erupting from the boy’s mouth as he fell to the ground, off of Steve grabbed Bucky’s attention.

“What the-” Bucky exclaimed looking up to see you standing above your brother and the other boy. “I thought I told you to stay-”

Before he could finish his sentence however, distracted by you, the boy below him took advantage of the situation to swing a punch right into Bucky’s eye.

“Shit!” He shouted in pain, but before Matthew could throw another one, Bucky threw one last punch across his nose, the boy immediately screaming in pain.

“My nose!” He shouted, hands shooting to his bloodied face. “I think you broke my fucking nose!”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, pulling on the boy’s collar and bringing his face inches from his. “If you even think about the Rogers girl again, I’ll kick your fucking teeth in, alright?”

Nodding wildly, he scrambled to his feet, running back towards the door of the building, the boy you had hit with the piece of plywood, holding the back of his head close behind him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you dropped the piece of wood at your side, closing your eyes until you felt the lollipop slip out of your mouth.

“Wha-” You began, opening your eyes.

When they did, your eyes landed on a bruised up Bucky slipping the lollipop into his own mouth once again.

“You owe me another one.” You said.

“Yeah right.” Bucky scoffed, pointing at the black eye that was forming on his face. “This shiner’s worth two of these stupid things and I got it because you, missy, don’t know when to stay put.”

Shaking your head, you turned to look at your brother and his bloodied face, resting your hand on his shoulder before turning back to Bucky.

“Steve needed help!” You exclaimed, attempting to defend yourself.

Shrugging your hand off, Steve shook his head. “I didn’t need your help, Y/n.” He said. “I could’ve handled those guys.”

You knew Steve wasn’t one to ask for help- he hated it actually. With his stature and health people were always either giving him help he didn’t ask for out of pity or actively working to make his life even more miserable. You understood that because of all of this he didn’t ask or want your help, but you didn’t help him because you didn’t believe in him, but- for the same reason as Bucky- because you cared. 

Knowing better than to make the situation worse, you sighed in defeat, nodding.

“You’re right.” You said to your older brother. “I’m sorry.”

Watching the scene in front of him, Bucky laid his hands on both of your shoulders.

“Listen, those guys were assholes.” He said glancing at each of you. “They deserved to get their ass kicked by three people. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about them again for a while now.”

-

As Bucky and you sat waiting for your brother on a bench in front of your shared high school for him to grab his wallet, you looked up at Bucky. Although you had to squint your eyes from the sun shining above the buildings, you gazed at your brother’s best friend’s face- the way the lollipop stick hung outside his mouth, the scruff that was already covering his jawline and even the bruise that had begun to form around his eye.

Shaking your head to clear your mind, you cleared your throat.

“Buck?” You asked.

“Yeah?” He replied, staring ahead, hand still on the stick of the lollipop in his mouth.

“What...” You began, fiddling with your fingers. “What was that fight all about anyway?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, and slipping the lollipop out his mouth he turned to you.

“You didn’t hear any of that?”

“No.”

Staring straight ahead, placing the candy back on his tongue he thought about the fight that had just unfolded and the sick things the kid who’s face he beat in said to cause it. He knew nothing good would come from you knowing and he knew even more that no matter how much he tried he wouldn’t even be able to say the words to your face.

“Same old stuff.” He shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Ya know, about Steve’s height and shit.”

Shaking your head, you scoffed.

“What assholes.”

“Yeah.”

Before anymore could be said, the sound of the front door of the school swinging open drew you and Bucky’s attention, Steve emerging from inside the building.

“Anyone steal anything?” Bucky asked, pushing himself off of the bench.

Chuckling, Steve opened his wallet to reveal... nothing.

“Not if there’s nothing to steal.” Your brother laughed.

Making your short trip back to your respective apartments, you followed behind with Bucky and Steve, laughing along with their jokes along the way despite their bruised and battered faces and the events that had transpired not even a half an hour before.

When Bucky made it back to his building, the stick of the lollipop still in his mouth, he waved back to the two of you. Watching as you and your brother made your way back home until you both had left his line of sight, Bucky couldn’t help but think about how one day the Rogers siblings would stop getting themselves into fights, but until that day came he swore he would do whatever it took to protect his best friend and his ‘punk’ little sister who- despite his best efforts- he had always saved a special place in his heart for.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #40s!bucky

[randomshyperson]

LEFT BEHIND - WANDA MAXIMOFF X READER - #02 "R.I.P to My Youth"

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

A/N: So, chapter two is here. Honestly, this story is a mess in my head haha but somehow people are enjoying so i'm sharing. Good reading!

Dictionary for this chapter: dvornyaga - mutt || chuma - plague/brat || Prostite, mem - sorry, ma'm || Vor - thief || printsessa - princess || skuchnyy - annoying ||

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses. Chapter warnings: Underage kissing, violence.

Words: 3.268 K

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Part One || Series Masterlist

//-//

Chapter Two - R.I.P to My Youth

Sokovia, 7 years ago.

You ducked quickly when you noticed the punch coming toward you.

"Stand still, dvornyaga!" Said the teenager trying to hold you by the shoulders, but you slipped out of his hands, dodging under his arms and starting to run.

The boy rushed to catch up with you, but you were smaller, and fit into places he couldn't get into. Rolling into a crevice in one of the abandoned factories, you laughed as the boy and his friends shouted angrily at you, unable to follow.

Your joy died the second you turned the corner. The nursemaid from the orphanage waiting for you with her arms folded.

"Running away from chores again, chuma?" The woman asked angrily. You ducked your head, walking over to her. As soon as you reached her, she pinned your ear between her fingers, causing you to grumble in pain as you were dragged into the building.

"Prostite, mem." You tried to apologize, but the woman would not listen, and then pushed you inside.

"No dinner for you." She informed you by throwing a broom into your hands. "Get upstairs and go clean the roofs now!

You climbed onto the rooftops with a grimace, softly cursing all the sisters as witches.

When you arrived, you noticed that there were already other orphans there.

"Good afternoon, Vor." Pietro greeted wryly. You approached him to help him carry one of the tiles.

"Stop calling me that." You retorted, but Pietro just laughed, thanking you for your help afterwards. "Why are you here?"

"I broke Nikolai's nose." He told you, and you looked at him reproachfully.

"And you let them catch you?" You asked. "You used to be smarter than that."

"Shut up." He grumbled humorously, waiting for you to finish sweeping the area you were in to return the tile to its place. "And what did you do this time? Are you going to tell me that Madame Pavlova caught you robbing the church again?"

You laughed, finishing sweeping and going back to helping Pietro lift another tile.

"Church money is for the poor." You retort. "I'm poor, how can I steal what's mine?"

"Keep this up and you'll be in jail as soon as you get out of here." A voice spoke behind you, startling you a little.

"You're so nosy aren't you, Wanda?" You teased the girl, and she grimaced at you before looking at her brother.

"What are you doing up here?" Pietro asked before Wanda could speak again. The girl crossed her arms, watching you guys work.

"I brought food for you two. But with this hostility, I think I'll stay downstairs."

You and Pietro exchanged giggles.

"Sorry, Wanda." You asked in unison, making the girl smile. She looked around to check if there were no priests, or nuns, or orphans staring at you from the window pane below before taking some bagels and bread from a wrapper inside her blouse pocket.

"Is there any possibility that you will stop stealing and behave yourselves?" Wanda asked slightly irritated, and you exchanged a look with Pietro.

"Unlikely." You replied, making him laugh. Wanda looked at you reproachfully. "Don't make that face, printsessa. This is stealing too.”

"Don't call me that." Wanda complained between teeth. But you smiled, because you noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks. "And I wouldn't have to steal if you two would stop causing trouble."

"Or maybe you could let us starve next time." Pietro retorted wryly, and ended up getting slapped on the shoulder by his sister, making you laugh. "Sorry, that was stupid."

"You two are so ungrateful." She grumbled turning to leave. You and Pietro exchanged a look, worried that Wanda was angry. But she gave you two one last look before turning away. "Tomorrow, wake up early. I want to show something."

Wanda went down the roof next, and you exchanged a smile with Pietro before turning back to work.

//-//

Wanda poked you in the ribs and you turned your head quickly. You, she and Pietro were ducking behind a car, breaking curfew, and probably some passing law, since you were in an abandoned building.

"They arrived last week." Wanda said to the two of you, looking in the direction of the back door of the building. There were three men in suits talking in the doorway, and casually looking around to see if they were alone. "They stay there all day."

"What's suspicious about that?" Pietro asked.

"Do you guys remember those kids who disappeared last week?" Wanda asked and waited for you and Pietro to confirm before continuing. "I found the orphanage uniform in the dumpster from the building. What if they are picking up the orphans?"

"You said they speak german, right?" You retorted with a question. When Wanda confirmed, you made a thoughtful face. "What if they are Nazi doctors? They could be trying that supremacist shit again."

"I think we should leave." Pietro said next. "Before they see us here."

"Yeah, come on." Wanda agreed before taking one last look at the door meters away from you, the men were entering. Neither you or Pietro notice that one of them looked directly at the girl before closing the door.

//-//

Pietro advanced against you with his fists raised, but you ducked and shoved him in the ribs.

"Well done, Vor!" He spoke contentedly, sounding surprised. He took two more steps toward you, but you dodged, and threw your arms against his waist. You both laughed as you both fell back onto the grass. Pietro rolled you on the ground to get on top. "You can't let them knock you down, little one."

"I'm the one who knocked you down, asshole." You retort humorously, trying to get up. But Pietro is heavy on you.

"I'm letting you win, obviously." The boy says with a smile. You hate that Pietro has grown so big as to win in fights, but at least he helps you learn to fight with the kids on the street. Which was funny, since Wanda always told you to run.

"Oh, really?" You hit back and then raise your knee hard, hitting him in the balls. Pietro lets out an exclamation of pain and falls beside you to the floor, whimpering. You feel bad at the same moment. "Shit, I'm sorry, Piet." You ask, but let out a giggle, watching him gasp in pain.

"What are you two doing here?" A voice suddenly asked, and you looked forward to find the high school monitor looking at you two reproachfully.

"Shit." You grumbled already hurrying to get up and lift Pietro quickly, who seemed to fight the pain to follow you.

"Maximoff! I should know." The woman spoke annoyed, hurrying to cross the railing. You and Pietro were skipping calculus class in the usually empty area behind the gym. But before she finished crossing, you and Pietro were already running away, laughing at the curses the woman yelled at you, and something about detention for a month.

By the time you stopped running, you were in the city, in the alleyways of suburban Sokovia.

Pietro punched you under the shoulder the moment you stopped, and when you grumbled he said it was for the kick.

"Are you hungry?" You asked as you massaged the spot of the punch.

"Yes." He replied looking around. Some people looked curiously at you two, probably because you came to the scene running, but you ignored it.

"I'll get us some food." You let him know and then you are already walking away to the fair area a few meters ahead. Pietro rolls his eyes at the smug expression you cast at him before you put the cap of your jacket over your head.

//-//

"What have you two gotten yourselves into?" Wanda asked angrily, throwing her backpack on top of the torn armchair. You and Pietro took your eyes off the card game to look at her.

The little crib you set up in one of Sokovia's condemned buildings was cold and damp, but it was the closest thing to a home where no one cursed, or order any of you to clean and do any tasks, so it was your favorite place.

Usually the three of you would run away from the orphanage and school as much as possible to stay around here, but then Wanda started actually studying and you and Pietro didn't.

"Sorry, Wands, calculus isn't really our thing." You grumbled to the girl. Wanda approached you with her arms crossed.

"But athletics it is, I believe." She retorted. "If you keep skipping class, you'll get kicked off the team. The guidance counselor told me to warn you two, and she talked for half an hour, so thanks for that." Wanda grumbled ironically, and you kicked Pietro lightly to get him to stop laughing.

You reached out for the paper package you left in the corner of one of the armchairs.

"Maybe this will improve your mood, printsessa." You said as you handed the item to Wanda. She looked tired, and grimaced, grudgingly thanking you. She smiled weakly when she realized it was food. "I saved some bread for you too."

"You two need to stop stealing." She warned, but took a bite of her food. You shrugged, and returned your attention to the game.

"If we had enough food, I wouldn't need to steal anything." You retorted, and Pietro murmured in agreement, while Wanda frowned slightly.

"You could get some work, too." Wanda argues and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"We've had this conversation a million times, printsessa."

"Stop calling me that." She asks annoyed.

You rolled your eyes again, and made a move. Pietro sighed slightly, since he was losing.

"I can call you skuchnyy, if you prefer." You retort humorously, and Wanda slaps you on the arm, making you and Pietro laugh.

"If you keep stealing, you'll end up in jail! Or worse, killed." She then adds, and you exchange a look with Pietro.

"Only if we get caught." The boy says and you hold back a laugh, seeing Wanda's disapproving look.

She lets out an impatient exclamation, and starts eating in silence. You focus on the game again, knowing that this discussion would happen again. Wanda would always complain that you were stealing, out of pure concern, and you and Pietro would continue to ignore it, out of necessity.

//-//

Sokovia, 6 years ago.

Gasping and out of breath, you kept running.

"I'm going to win." You heard Pietro shout excitedly beside you, running as fast as you.

"Shut up." You shouted back, but Pietro actually reached the finish line first. You laughed, though, trying to normalize your breathing as you sat on the ground.

Coach walked over to the two of you next, past the small crowd of students who were watching the race celebrating Pietro's victory.

"That was excellent, Maximoff." Congratulated the coach with a handshake. Pietro smiled embarrassed, and you laughed at his face.

"Come on, I'll buy you lunch to celebrate." You told the boy as soon as you stood up, and the coach had left. Pietro threw his arm around you, and you pushed him away. "Get off, you're sweaty."

He laughed, and you parted your ways in the locker room. After taking a shower, you found Pietro already wearing his regular clothes instead of his athletic clothes, but he was not alone. There was a man in a suit talking to him.

As you approached, the man looked at you and waved his hat before turning and leaving.

"What was that?" You asked curiously, but Pietro had a grim expression on his face. "Piete, are you okay?"

"Yeah." He says looking away from yours to the paper in your hands. He puts it away in his pocket before you can read it. "I need to talk to Wanda. Rain check on our lunch later."

"Okay." You mumble confusedly, watching Pietro walk away quickly.

//-//

"Pay attention, no one must see you. Go in quietly, place the packages, and leave without being seen." Warned the man in front of you. You swallowed dryly, but nodded in agreement.

You exchanged a glance with Pietro and Wanda before turning to enter through the small gap in the railing, one of the new commercial buildings on the other side.

Now that you were older, the protest groups accepted you at the marches. You and the twins had been participating for a few months now, and they were usually peaceful walks. But then one of the leaders learned that you could fit in small places, and here you were, sneaking into one of the new buildings that took the place of one of the apartment complexes, looking for the exact spot to place the packages that the group handed you.

Even though you were nervous, you made it. And it was only when you were outside that you heard an explosion much bigger than you expected.

When you saw one of the security guards with a bloody head, shouting in Sokovian for the vandals to be stopped while the rest of the protesters shouted and held up their placards, everything seemed to get a little muffled for you, and you could only focus on the powder marks on your fingers. Stumbling away, you ran.

//-//

Sokovia, 5 years ago.

"You two have lost your minds!" You exclaim in surprise and irritation, taking yourself off the wooden bench you were sitting on. Pietro and Wanda look at you with confusion.

"I told you she wouldn't understand." Pietro grumbles and you look at him with indignation.

"Really?" You retort. "Of course I don't understand, Pietro! You've both gone crazy for good!"

"Keep your voice down!" Pietro retorted angrily, getting up as he looked around. No lights had come on downstairs, so no one from the orphanage was awake. "We're doing this for Sokovia."

"Tell me how offering yourself as an experiment for German Nazis helps Sokovia?" You retorted angrily and Pietro sighed impatiently. "I can't believe you two are actually thinking of doing this."

"What do you think will happen next week when we turn eighteen, heh?" Pietro asked aggressively, and you clenched your jaw. "We'll be kicked out of the orphanage, and we'll be on the street. If we didn't have food before, imagine after that!"

"I can get us food!" You exclaim with tear-filled eyes, but Wanda gives a dry laugh.

"You're not going with us." Wanda retorts and you look at her wide-eyed. "You're going to stay here, where you have a roof and a meal, and we're not going to waste the opportunity to change things in Sokovia."

You looked at them incredulously.

"I can't believe you are going to die for your ambition."

Pietro crossed his arms, looking at you seriously. You looked at Wanda, but she looked away to the floor. Shaking your head, you ran your hands through your hair.

"We are doing this for our country." Pietro stated seriously. You disagreed with your head, feeling your throat close up from emotion. But you did not cry. "Some of us are willing to risk whatever it takes."

You give a dry laugh at the provocation. Pietro was only saying that because you stopped participating in the rallies, ever since the protests got more violent and your colleagues started damaging property, stealing, and there were even rumors of fighting that ended in killing.

"Yeah, Piete, you're right." You retorted upset. "You and Wanda want to die in a cell with needles in your arms, lying that this is for Sokovia and not to get revenge for your parents. But don't expect me to stay and watch."

You accuse bitterly before turning and walking off the roof, your tears flowing as you reach the floor below, but you don't stop walking.

//-//

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you raised your head, your gaze shifting from the vegetables at your feet to the girl in front of you. It had been a few days since you had argued with the Maximoffs, and you hadn't spoken to any of them since.

"I came to say goodbye." Wanda said simply, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the ground and shaking some of the dirt on your fingers.

"When are you two leaving?"

"Now."

Ignoring the feeling that has formed in your stomach, you just grumble in agreement, turning your back on Wanda, because you don't want her to see you cry.

"And what's this now?" You retort as you sit on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. "Did you come to tell me that you guys are going to remember me or some sentimental shit?"

Wanda laughs softly, and you hear her footsteps approaching, until she is sitting next to you.

"Well, we've been friends for eight years, I thought I should say goodbye." She says looking forward. You want to swallow the urge to cry, because you don't want them to go. But there is nothing you can do.

"Okay, Wanda. Goodbye then." You retort bitterly, looking down at your hands.

"I wanted to give you something before I go." Wanda adds softly, and you turn your head to her to ask what it is, but as soon as you do, Wanda breaks the distance, her lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss.

You sigh in surprise, and Wanda pulls away.

"S-sorry." She says breathlessly. "I shouldn't..."

But you kiss her again. Properly this time. She is grateful that you hold her around the waist, because then she doesn't fall off the roof when she completely melts from the touch of your tongues together.

You pull away to take a breath, leaving your foreheads together. The urge to tell her not to go anywhere is stuck on the tip of your tongue, and before you can let the words escape, someone is clearing their throat behind you.

"I can't believe you kissed my sister." Pietro complains in a mixed tone of teasing and annoyance. But there is no anger in his gaze. You and Wanda move away embarrassed. "We have to go."

Wanda nods in agreement, and looks at you one last time before standing up, walking over to Pietro.

The boy nods to you before leaving. And when the roof is empty, you let the tears stream down your face.

//-//

As soon as the twins left, you joined the protests again. It kept you distracted now that you were alone. And since you hated so much free time without your friends, you ignored the way that you now always ended up with bruised hands and sore throats after every march.

You got some of your fellow protesters to help you keep an eye on the building that Wanda and Pietro were staying in, and when they stopped coming out of there, you knew something was wrong.

Two weeks without hearing about the twins, you could no longer sleep from worry. You imagined that whatever those men were doing to them would take time. But you also didn't expect that your friends would disappear.

So here you were, sneaking around the abandoned floors to find some clue to where the hell they were. You knew you shouldn't be here. It was their choice, and they knew the consequences. But you kept walking.

Hearing a metal noise, you felt your heart race and quickly hid behind a wall. But no other sound came, so you thought it was safe to move.

Another noise, and a sharp pain in your neck a second later. And then you blacked out.

//-//-//-//

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[queenkrissy11-fandomaccount]

Long Gone - Bucky Barnes x Reader

After weeks of a strained relationship, one fight and a surprise is enough for Y/N to run away and not look back.

By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be long gone. Don’t look for me, you won’t find anything.

You suck in a deep breath and tuck the note into the door. No turning back now.

Sure, you and Buck had your ups and downs but last night was different.

You were dealing with a depressive episode when he came home to the compound. You tried not to bother him with your sour feelings and it worked. He didn’t notice, though you weren’t sure how he could have when he didn’t wander in until well past midnight and smelt like cheap rum.

Then he had the nerve to try and crawl into your bed without a word.

“Are you joking?” You finally muttered.

“What?”

“Are you that drunk or just that clueless?” You demanded. “You left a shitty note about going to check out a terrorist threat and then ignored my texts all day. And then followed it with a trip to the bar before letting you fiancée know you’re alive? I’ve been worried sick for hours!”

He stopped pulling on the covers and rolled his eyes, “Sorry I didn't text you back, doll. I was busy saving the world. And who cares if I went for a drink?”

You knew it sounded like an over reaction but it went much deeper than that. You’d been having panic attacks left and right the past weeks over his job and he knew that. He had sat on the floor with you in his arms and assured you he’d check in when possible. Told you how he’d call you after every fight to tell you he was okay. You came to find there was no substance behind his words. They were just sweet nothings to calm you down.

“Why would Steve be returning my calls before you? I’m not worried about a stupid night at the bar! I feel like I’m losing you and you don’t care!”

A part of you knew you were looking to start a fight, to feel something from him other than indifference and annoyance. It had been a couple weeks since he’d shown any sign of giving a shit about you. You needed to know if there was anything left before you told him the latest news. You didn’t want Bucky if it was just for the baby. Sure, you knew he would step up but you didn’t know if that was for the best. An avenger for a father and parents that didn’t want to be together? You were pretty sure the baby inside you would be better off raised by a single mother in the middle of nowhere, far from the long list of enemies Bucky had.

He glared for a long second before snatching a pillow, “I’m not dealing with this tonight. I’ll be on the couch if that overbearing urge to check up on me gets to strong.” He slammed the door behind him and you broke into sobs.

You allowed yourself five minutes to be upset before wiping your tears and setting off to pack a bag. You didn’t grab much, only a weeks worth of clothes, a gun, and the running away back pack Tony had made for you. You tucked the duffel and the back pack underneath the bed.

You were faking it when Buck crept in the next morning to get ready for the job of the day. He hesitated in front of you and for a moment you were ready to throw your plans out the door. He shook his head and moved on and your resolve grew. You were leaving and it would be for the best.

Once he was gone you scribbled out the note and fiddled with the engagement ring on your finger. You knew you should leave it but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. You still loved him even if he didn’t love you. It wouldn’t hurt to bring one part of him with you. You glanced at your still small stomach, well, two.

Pepper didn’t bat an eye at your request to borrow a car. You snagged the keys to one of the nondescript SUVs and took off. About a mile down the road you pulled over and ripped out the tracking software on the car. You threw it in the dumpster behind a 7-11 along with your cell phone.

You drove, only stopping for gas, until you hit a small town in Virginia. You knew the town well but no one would know you. Every summer from the ages of 5 to 15 was enough to make an impact on you but not the town. You pulled into the drive of your grandmother’s old house. You had inherited the place when she died a couple years ago but due to working with the Avengers you didn’t have a need for it. The key slipped right into the deadbolt. The place looked just how you remembered it, only with more dust. The furniture was still there but you found what was all. The small knick knacks and mementoes were gone, likely claimed by other family members after her passing. 

The old clock on the wall said it was 5. Plenty of time to get started on cleaning the place up.

It was a long and hard pregnancy. The super soldier serum running through your son added a couple complications. He grew fast and was much stronger than he should be. He did a number on your body from the inside but it was all worth it when you held him in your arms. You cursed your luck when he came out with a head full of dark hair and winter blue eyes. 

You found work at a diner, making a living in tips. The great thing about tips is they tend to be paid in cash and it’s hard to trace cash. You were careful. No one was going to find you or your son. Andrew became the light of your life

Life was peaceful, a bit repetitive but safe. The biggest threat was your neighbor Travis. You would take a borderline stalker over Nazis any day. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” You mutter to yourself when Travis saunters into the diner. He was your typical tool. Peaked in high school playing football. Can’t handle rejection. Full of himself. 

“Good afternoon, table for one?” You put on a sweet smile.

“Just me, babygirl.” A chill runs down your spine but you shake it off and lead him to an empty booth. 

“I’ll give you a minute to decide what you want but can I get you a drink?” You hand over the laminated menu.

“I already know exactly what I want and I think you do too.” He gives you a smirk and you have to resist the urge to jam your pen into his eye. 

“Bacon cheeseburger?” You ask innocently.

He laughs it off but hands you his menu so you turn to put his order into the kitchen. You can feel his eyes on you as he walks away. 

The day drags on and Travis sticks around. First for an order of fries. Then a shake. By the time that’s gone it’s late enough for a couple beers. He finally pays his tab and leaves ten minutes before closing. You’re relieved until you notice his Honda still in the parking lot when you leave. 

You pat the holster in the waistband of your pants before making your way to the SUV in the back of the parking lot. The silver car tails you and it takes four right turns before you could go to pick up Andrew from his sitter. 

Travis was back home when you finally pulled in. You double checked that the door was locked behind you before you went upstairs with Andy. He toddled around your room while you got ready for bed. Tonight you didn’t feel like fighting him on sleeping in the crib so you tucked him in you arms in your own bed. 

Around two in the morning you woke up to the sound of glass shattering. You jumped out of bed with Andrew in your arms and grabbed the gun next to your bed. 

Creeping down the stair you hear someone in the kitchen. You’re only ten feet from the front door. You take a deep breath, set Andrew at your feet, and bring the gun up. You were trained by Avengers. You wouldn’t miss the shot as long as you didn’t hesitate. You wait for the figure to come into view and pull the trigger. The deafening bang goes off and he hits the ground. You snatch up Andrew and run for the door. Travis is next to you before you can get in your car. 

“What’s going on? I heard a gun?” He’s half naked and more alert than he was when he left the diner. 

You’re scrambling for your keys when your front door flies off the hinges and the man you just shot steps out. 

“This isn’t happening! How is it still following me?” You’re breaths are struggling to come and go. You push Andrew into Travis’ arms and aim at the man again. It doesn’t seem to do any damage. It just pisses him off. You take another shot and get the same result. You’re about to try again when a blur of a figure tackles the man. The moonlight catches on one of his arms and you’re frozen in place. 

You grab the toddler and turn to run but Travis is a little too ready to play hero. He picks you up bridal style and runs.

He doesn’t make it fifty feet before a blond wall of muscle stops him. “Y/N?” Steve mutters after pulling you out of his arms. “What, what are you doing here?” Andrew begins crying louder and clinging to you. Steve finally looks down and has to take a step back. 

“I can explain,” You start. Suddenly, you’re pushed to the pavement and Travis is throwing a punch at Captain America. Steve’s head turns with the force but his body stays planted. You kick yourself at the satisfaction you feel when Steve shoves Travis back. He crouches down in front of you and offers a hand.

“Let’s try that explanation now.” 

You hear Bucky scoff behind him, “This will be good.” He freezes in his tracks when he takes in the site. You’re wearing a silk slip on the ground clutching a child that can’t be much more than a year old. 

He stares for a long moment before shaking himself out of it and shrugging off his jacket. He wraps it around your shoulders before helping you to your feet. 

You’re caught off guard by the rush of emotions when you look at him and hot tears well in your eyes, “I am so sorry Buck.”

He tries to be mad but can’t stop himself from pulling you into his arms. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms again. Andrew reaches his arms up and around your neck protectively, finally catching Bucky’s attention. 

He steps back suddenly, “Who’s this?”

You swallow hard, knowing the storm that’s coming. “This is your son. Andrew James Barnes.”

“My what?” He looks at you in disbelief then back to Andrew.

“Let’s go inside?” You suggest.

Bucky stops inside the doorway and admires the wall of pictures. The majority of them Andrew at every stage so far. You were in a few with him but there was only a handful of just you. They’re different stages of your pregnancy. He swallows hard when he takes in the sight of you in the third month. That’s when the toll started being taken. He broke the first rib kicking right around that time. He was delivered at six months, the serum making him grow much faster. As the pictures got closer to delivery you looked more and more like a corpse. Bucky hated that he wasn’t there for you for any of it, that he didn’t even know you were dealing with it. 

“He definitely takes after you. The serum is in his DNA.” You say quietly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you just leave and take my child with you?” You can hear the emotion behind each of his words.

“You didn’t want to be with me and I wasn’t going to make you feel obligated to.” You knew it sounded pathetic, “And you have enough enemies to worry about. I didn’t want that for our son.”

“Our son,” He repeats quietly. “How is he so big? You’ve only been gone for a year.”

You rub and hand over his cropped hair, “His development is a lot faster than  a normal childs. He’s only about seven months old but he compares to children almost twice that, but even then he’s much stronger.” 

“Can I hold him?” He seems unsure of himself but you happily hand him over.

Bucky extends his fingers to Andrew in his lap. Andy curiously takes two in his small hands and you flinch, knowing how tight his grip can get. Bucky watches him, unfazed by the ridiculous strength. He holds Andrew close to him for a few minutes before Andrew tries to climb back to you.

“You’re both coming back to the compound.” Bucky stands up.

“Like hell we are! This is our home. This is where we’re safe. And I won’t let you feel obligated to take me back because we have a baby.”

He gives you a serious look, “Bullshit. That ring on your finger says you’re still mine. And in what world is this safer than the compound? An alien broke in tonight!”

Before you knew it you were in the quinjet headed back to the base. Bucky never let you out of his sight. On the bright side, the ride provided plenty of time for apologies. Neither of you were happy with the others choices but you could understand them and move past them.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x single mom #bucky one shot #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky fluff

[babygirl-diaz]

Samtember 19: Madripoor

1296 Words | Rated T | For @samwilsonfest

"Smiling Tiger, this is for you."

Sam turned around to find the bartender offering him a purple and white shot. "But I didn't order it," Sam told him.

"It's courtesy of that lady over there," he pointed over Sam's right shoulder and Sam turned around to find a brunette piercing green eyes and a dangerous smile waving at him.

"You sure you wanna have that?" Bucky mumbled, breaking character for a moment.

Just to prove to the man that he wasn't scared, Sam took the shot glass, raised it towards the woman, and knocked it back. It was sweet and tasted like vanilla ice cream, much to Sam's surprise.

Sam immediately got a round of spins and felt a hand on his bicep. He looked up to find Bucky giving him somehow both a perturbed and a concerned look.

"Soldier," Zemo let out a low growl, and Bucky hesitated for a moment before removing his hand from Sam's arm.

"You okay there, Smiling Tiger?" Zemo asked, standing a little too close for Sam's comfort.

"Yeah, I'm good." And Sam wasn't lying. He was fine after that round of spins.

"You know, I never noticed before, but you're really hot," Zemo said, throwing Sam off.

"Excuse me?"

Before Zemo could reply, more people started coming over to Sam and talking to him.

"Can I have your number?" One man asked.

"What?" Sam replied.

"Hey, man, back off, he's mine," said a woman, and Sam balked at her.

Another man tried touching Sam, but before he could, Bucky grabbed it and twisted his arm behind his back, making the man scream in pain.

"Try to touch him again and I will break more than your arm."

Sam heard Bucky growl in the man's ear.

He let him go and then got in front of Sam when more people approached him.

"Soldier!" Zemo seemed horrified at Bucky breaking character.

Another man tried to touch Sam, but this time, before Bucky could grab him, someone else did and threw him to the ground. "He's mine!" A woman announced.

"NO, HE'S MINE!" Another man yelled, throwing a punch at another, and that's how a fight broke out.

People threw kicks and punches at each other, all the while yelling that Sam was theirs.

Sam and Bucky looked at each other, confused.

"What is happening?" Sam asked

"Hell if I know," Bucky replied and grabbed Sam's hand. "But we better be ready to run."

"STOP!" someone yelled, and the crowd immediately stopped fighting and dispersed.

A blond woman dressed in a leopard print suit approached them, a throng of guards following her.

"Selby," Zemo greeted the woman, but she seemed less than interested in him and instead came over to Sam and Bucky.

She looked down at their intertwined hands and smirked. "Soldier. Smiling Tiger," she greeted them.

Bucky's grip tightened, and Sam noticed him glaring at the woman.

"There's something different about you, Conrad," the woman -Selby- said to Sam. "You seem... more vibrant than before. There's a whole new light about you." Selby stepped forward, but Bucky growled -literally growled- at her.

"Soldier, stand down," Zemo chastised him once again, but Bucky stood his ground this time.

"That's okay," Selby said, putting up a hand. "I am quite enjoying this. So, Soldier, what will it take for you to let go of Conrad over here and let him come with me?"

"Nothing," Bucky replied without missing a beat.

"Uh... we need information from her," Sam whispered in Bucky's ear, which earned him a glare from the former soldier.

"What information do you need, Smiling Tiger?" Selby asked. "I'll give you whatever you need."

Sam tried his luck and just outright asked. "The super-soldier serum. Who has been making them? And more importantly, who has been commissioning them?"

"That's it?" Selby scoffed. "The Power Broker... he runs this town. He has been commissioning the serum from Dr. Wilfred Nagel, a former Hydra scientist."

Well, that was easy.

"So now that I've answered your question..." Selby gave him a suggestive smile.

"Back off, before you regret it," Bucky warned the woman.

"I really didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice," she sighed. "Kill them," she ordered the men behind her.

Just as they raised their guns towards Sam and Bucky, a loud popping sound rang through the air and Selby was down on the ground with a bullet hole in her forehead.

"RUN!" Bucky yelled and pulled Sam along just as chaos broke out around them.

Sam could hear bullets behind them.

"Will you run faster?" Bucky shouted at him.

"I can't run in these heels!" Sam let out a frustrated noise.

Soon they were cornered by three men at a dumpster and Sam was sure they were done for when someone shot them dead.

"Sharon?" Sam called out, surprised when he noticed the familiar face.

***

Sharon took them over to her place. Turns out she's been living in Madripoor since being on the run.

She provided them with a change of clothes, and just as Sam was putting on his, he felt eyes on him.

He found Zemo hungrily looking at him like he was dinner. Sam cringed and quickly picked what he was going to wear.

"I'd rather you went without that," Sharon commented as she walked past Sam, brushing her fingers over his bare shoulder.

"W-what?" Sam stuttered. "Not you too."

"Not me too what?" Sharon asked from where she was sitting beside Bucky, who looked like he was about to murder her.

"Everyone has been hitting on me since I got here," Sam replied, frustrated.

"Oh," Sharon mumbled. "Did you drink anything while you were at the market?"

"Yeah, some snake drink?" Sam replied. "But turns out that's regular for Conrad Mack."

"You also drank that purple shot," Bucky reminded him.

"Purple shot?" Sharon perked up. "Did it taste like ice cream?"

"Yeah..." Sam trailed off. "How did you know?"

"There's a witch who has been coming here for a couple of months now. When she finds someone interesting, she gives them a type of love potion to "help" them find love. The only problem is that the drink makes everyone around the person fall in love with them for 24 hours."

"What?!" Sam screeched. "Witch. Love potion. Are you kidding me?" Sam asked as he sat down on the coffee table in front of Bucky and Sharon.

"Nope," Sharon chuckled. "Welcome to Madripoor." She paused for a moment and eyed Sam before saying, "Oh, and I've been wanting to do this for the past hour." Without warning, she leaned in and kissed Sam.

She lingered for a good few moments and only pulled apart when a low growl came from somewhere behind them.

They both looked over to find Bucky throwing daggers in Sharon's direction.

"Ohhhh..." She trailed off and smirked.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Looks like you found your true love."

"Huh?"

"Has he tried to kiss you?" Sharon asked, nodding towards Bucky.

"No?" Sam replied, unsure.

"That's because he's trying to hold himself back. He's fighting against the spell," Sharon replied while Bucky blinked at her.

"What are you talking about?" Sam was getting more and more confused by the minute.

"This potion is supposed to find you your true love and the person who is most affected by the potion but also fights back against it and wins is your true love."

"So you're saying that... Bucky..."

"...is your true love," Sharon replied.

Sam looked up at Bucky, who looked back at him. Instead of saying anything, he shrugged and got up from his seat. When Bucky got close and Sam felt his heart beat hard against his chest.

"Buck-"

Bucky cut him off by sealing their lips together.

#samtember 2021 #samtember #submission #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #tfatws #fanfic #aashnas drabble

[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson (mentioned)

word count: 2.1k+

warning: none (no tfatws spoilers yet)

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only just the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: if this flops, i’m quitting.

Sam was tired. Truly, utterly tired. It felt like he hadn’t felt anything but fatigue for the last few days, the kind that seeps deep into your bones and cozies up in your marrow, the kind that never seems to leave. Like, ever again.

He knew he was probably supposed to call Sarah and tell her he was on his way. They had only talked once since he came back, right before Tony’s funeral, and even that was a rather brief telephone call. His sister had told him there was something he needed to know but Sam had said they would talk once he got to hers. First, he needed some rest. A short nap would do, really. And a cup of strong black coffee. Or maybe two.

He parked his car where he always had; the space furthest to the left, right under his favorite maple tree that looked so pretty in the autumn and kept the inside of Sam’s car relatively cool in the summer. He watched for a while as the light spring breeze played with the fresh green mane of this majestic old lady, and felt a soft wave of calm rush through every tiny particle of him. He was home. The battle was over and he was on his way to his family. He wouldn’t take that nap. He’d just get his stuff out of his car and put Cap’s shield somewhere safe - he would deal with that later.

But he would have that coffee. He did deserve a treat after all.

Sam had no trouble getting inside the building, thanks to a delivery guy leaving right when he was about to enter. He took a deep breath, just a short second before making his way up the stairs to the third floor. He had been told at least a million times that what felt like five seconds to him, had actually been five years for those left behind. And still, the dirty old apartment complex had not changed at all, not even a tiny bit. Everything had stayed the same; the chipped grey paint on the dense walls, the rusty banister, the dusty steps... It felt like a time capsule. It felt safe, it felt like home.

Except it wasn’t anymore.

As soon as he got up to his floor, he knew something was off. He didn’t realise at first but he did approach the door to his apartment more carefully, with a slight shadow of a frown on his face. Sam slowed down his last few steps and looked the door up and down, down and up again, checking every corner for something out of the ordinary, something that was not meant to be there. When he found nothing, he chuckled to himself. So stupid. He had become paranoid. It was only natural given his job but honestly, it had been high time he had calmed down. So he slid his hand into his jacket pocket to grab his keys, and with a small smile lingering in the corners of his lips, he tried to unlock his door.

And that was precisely when his smile fell.

The key just wouldn’t go into the lock. Sam tried to insert every single one of them, even went as far as attempting to force his car key through the tiny hole, which obviously didn’t work. His anxiety was slowly building up in his stomach again and just as he looked down at his key charm, he realised what had made him so suspicious the first time - his doormat was gone. His black scraper had been replaced by a dark green carpet doormat that looked like it was in desperate need for a wash. Or maybe a one-way trip to the dumpsters.

Eyebrows furrowed, Sam looked up at the rusty number 3c on the door and, once sure it was indeed his apartment, he thought he’d try his luck with the doorknob as well. His fingers were already wrapped around the cold metal when the door swung open with such force that Sam froze for a few seconds.

“I’m warning you; I’m armed!”

Sam immediately threw his hands into the air and even took a step back from your doorstep. He was frozen for a few seconds and only relaxed when he saw what you were actually holding in your hands - a tabby cat in one, and a bottle of deodorant in the other. He let out a silent sigh of relief at the sight and slowly brought his arms back to his sides, but he made sure to stay put and not to approach you just yet.

“It’s alright! I mean no harm.”

*  *  *

Several minutes later your heart was still racing, threatening to punch a whole through your chest and making a getaway down the corridor. However, you slowly relaxed your muscles as your breathing started to calm down, too, still staring the stranger dead in the eyes and making sure to hold Archie as steadily as your shaking hand could. Once you had decided you trusted the words of the man standing before you, you dropped your other hand holding the almost empty - and therefore useless - bottle. However, you did keep your distance and wrapped your now free fingers tightly around the doorknob on the inside, ready to smash it into his face the moment it would be necessary.

“Can I help you?” You asked, cradling your uninterested cat closer to your chest and burying your fingers deep in his soft fur. You raised a wary eyebrow at the stranger standing in your doorway who himself seemed just as suspicious as you were. As if he had any right to.

“Yeah...” 

You watched him look you up and down, your little grey feline jumping to your defence and staring the man dead in the eyes as if daring him to spend one more second eyeing you. And it worked. With a tiny frown he looked you in the eyes again and continued. Good job, Archie.

“Who are you?”

You thought he was joking. So you laughed and then saw the man’s face and then felt bad. He was absolutely not joking. He was genuinely confused and obviously had no idea who you were. And it was not like you were a celebrity around here but you had built quite a decent following of fellow plant-lovers over on Instagram, so you were actually mildly offended.

But it was alright; you decided to let it slide and give this stranger a chance. Who knows, maybe he had been following your updates on your snake plant stories. He did look like a snake plant kind of guy.

And maybe you could also clear up the confusion around why he had been trying to break into your home just a minute ago.

So you told him your name and when he still looked as confused as ever, you looked at him expectantly, shifting Archie’s weight from one arm to the other.

“And... who are you?” You finally decided to help him out and even offered him a tiny smile, which evaporated the second you heard his answer leave his lips.

“Sam Wilson. I-”

“Sam Wilson?” You cut him off and stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process the information. The longer you looked, the more obvious the similarities got and you cursed at yourself silently for not having realised it before. Sarah had warned you about it the moment the news broke out but she had also promised to deal with it and let you know once she had enlightened her brother. You had been expecting a phone call or maybe a text, definitely not the brother himself right on your doorstep.

“Yeah. Why?”

You had already opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted by Archie who had obviously had enough of being cradled like a baby and since the drama seemed to have ended, he was no longer interested. You let him land on the floor gently and nudged him in the direction of your tiny living room before turning back towards Sam and opening the door several inches wider.

“You know, I really think you should come in.”

“No, I have to call my sister and-”

“You haven’t called Sarah yet?!” You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and shaking your head ever so slightly. “She’s gonna be so pissed, man.”

You watched him furrow his eyebrows and do that thing again where he looked you up and down, down and up again as if you could be an alien in disguise trying to lure him into some intergalactic trap. As if you hadn’t just tried to protect yourself with an empty deodorant bottle and a kitten. Sam Wilson clearly was a poor judge of character.

“Yeah, I know your sister, get over it. Would you please come inside?”

You put on your most friendly smile just for him and stepped aside, gesturing Sam inside the apartment you both knew so well. He gave you one last wary look before stepping over the threshold, and you rolled your eyes at him behind his back before closing the door behind the two of you.

*  *  *

“Tea? Or maybe coffee?” Sam heard from behind him and did a double take before turning towards you, already making your way to the tiny kitchen area  divided from the living room only by a worn wooden table. Sam watched you take out two identical white mugs from one of the cabinets and felt his stomach jump up into his throat and fall back into its place again; that was exactly where he kept his mugs, too. Well, used to keep them.

“Oh, ugh, coffee. Please. Black. One sugar.”

He saw you nod and get to work. Sam did wait for a while for you to start the conversation and finally explain to him what was going on. When that didn’t actually happen, he turned his head to look around, trying to shake off the weird feeling he had seeing you feel so at home in what used to be his home just a few days ago. Or five years ago. Question of perspective.

The first thing Sam noticed once he had actually taken the time to look around was green. What, at first glance, had slipped his attention was now screaming at him from every corner of the apartment. The living room was filled to the brim with houseplants. There were handsome little pots of plants on the windowsills, on the bookshelves, even on the kitchen counter. What hadn’t fit higher, got place on the floor.

You had turned the apartment into a botanical garden.

“Hey, plant lady? Is this even legal? It feels illegal.” He gestured all around the room and you followed his movement with your eyes, a tiny grin creeping its way onto your face but disappearing the very next second. Sam tried his best to play along and act like he hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh would you look at that, you can actually form full sentences,” you teased, giving him a side-eyed look before handing him your mug filled with hot black coffee, which Sam took gladly, ignoring the drop of sarcasm in your voice.

“Those are actually fine,” you continued after the first sip of your tea and pointing at the cat yawning on the dirty old couch in the middle of the living room. “Archie is the only problem here. But hush, he’s a secret.”

“How can you keep a cat here in secret?”

“I bribed the superintendent,” you whispered, leaning a little closer to Sam and flashing him a perfect albeit forced smile.

“Old Charlie? No way!” Sam scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“O-ho, yes way! Everyone has a weakness and I’ve found our old Charlie’s.”

“Which is...?”

“... a secret I’ve vowed to take to the grave with me,” you replied and gave emphasis to your words with a tiny nod of your head, leaving Sam slightly disappointed but smirking nonetheless.

In the short silence that followed, he took another sip of his hot coffee, enjoying every millisecond of the burning, bittersweet sensation before finally addressing the elephant in the room. Because even though his suspicions had somewhat settled, Sam was still completely confused about how on Earth you could possibly know his sister and talk about her so casually. And you must have been thinking of the same thing because as he looked at you above his now half empty mug and your gazes met, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh, gesturing towards the small kitchen table.

“Let’s talk, I guess.”

*  *  *

mini-series taglist - let me know if you’d like to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

@fireghost-x

@samuelthomaswillson

mcu taglist - join here

@babymango-writes

@softieyn

@spencereidisabicon

@whutisthus

@bravelittlesunflower

@katethecrazy

@swanimagines​

@amirahiddleston​

@remusflirts​

@musicallisto​

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson headcanon #the falcon #the falcon x reader #the falcon imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws imagine #tfatws mini series #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu mini series #mcu reader insert #sarah wilson #bucky barnes

[vcidgalpin]

Heart Monitor PT 2

Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Eventually)

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 1789

A/N: I AM BACK! Sorry I had a lot of stuff going on in my life, but I am here again like 9 months later. I haven't watched season 1 in forever so I hope this reads well. Anyway: Stiles continues to have bad ideas as to how to teach Scott control, and a glimpse into Y/N's past is shown.

Warnings: Mentions of sex

“It’s her,”

“What are you talking about?” Asked Scott in response to my claim.

“Allison. She doesn’t make you weak Scott, she makes you stronger. Like, remember what you said about the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her. About protecting her,”

“Okay and?” He continues to look puzzled as to what I was getting at,

“And remember the first lacrosse game? You said you heard her voice when you were out on the field,” Stiles followed on from what I was saying. “That’s what brought you back. Not to mention, you didn’t try to kill her in the locker room. At least not like how you tried to kill me,”

“Let it go Stiles,” I suppress a lighthearted laugh, rolling my eyes.

“But it’s not always true. Because literally every time I’m kissing her or touching her-”

“That’s not the same. When you’re doing that you’re just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex. See, you’re thinking about sex right now. Aren’t you?” I punch Scott’s arm to draw him out of his daydreaming state, scoffing.

“Perv,”

“Sorry,” He bashfully smiles, rubbing the part of his arm as it heals. I do forget my strength sometimes, but at least he can handle it.

“Now when she was holding your hand in class, it was different. I don’t think she makes you weak. I think she actually gives you control. It’s like she’s a kind of…”

“Anchor,” I interrupt, not really meaning to speak aloud. My stomach starts to churn, and I can feel energy instantly leave my body at the concept of anchors. Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I shake off my intrusive thoughts and take a sip of my water, looking at Scott.

“You mean because I love her,” Water goes down the wrong pipe in my throat as I hear Scott’s confession., and I try to clear my throat. “Did I just say that?”

“You just said that,” Stiles smiles at his best friend.

“I love her,” The smile on his face keeps growing, to the point where it seems painful.

“That’s great. Anyway, moving on-” Stiles tries to move the conversation along, clearly already bored of this lovey-dovey talk, but once again being interrupted by Scott’s daydreaming monologue.

“No I do, I really do. I think I’m totally in love with her,” Okay now I’m starting to feel sick of this ‘puppy in love’ stuff.

“And that’s beautiful. Before you go off and write a sonnet can we figure this out? Because you obviously can’t be around her all the time,” I snort at Stiles’ bluntness but nod along with what he says.

“Okay well what do I do?” A small pout replaces his cheshire cat smile. Stiles starts pacing around a bit before stopping with a lightbulb clearly going off in his head. “Stiles? You’re getting an idea aren’t you.”

“Yeah,”

“Could this idea get me in trouble?”

“Maybe,”

“Is this idea going to cause me physical pain?”

“Definitely.”

-

Stiles leads Scott and I to the school parking lot, stopping close to a few large dumpsters.

“What are we doing here?” I say, looking around us warily, noticing a senior exit his truck, a pack of smokes in his hand, joining a group of some other guys.

“You’ll see, my young padawan,” I shake my head, trying to conceal the smile that broke out without me being able to stop it. “Right, Scott. Stand here,” Grabbing his friend’s shoulders, he moves Scott in front of him, closer to the clean looking truck. “You have your house keys right?” Scott nods and Stiles continues on. “Hold them up. Like this.” Stiles positions his friend’s hand to be holding the key outwards. “Now, whatever happens I want you to think about Allison. Find her voice like you did at the game? Got it?” He nods again. “Good keep holding the keys,” Stiles then pulls his own pair of keys out of his jeans, walking over to the senior’s truck. Wasting no time at all, he drags his key along the side of the truck, the noise making me wince before the shock of what he was doing even hit me. Me and Scott both stand, mouths agape at the horrendous scratch now left on the paint. Stiles quickly pockets his keys, moving back over to us again before saying “Dude, what do you think you’re doing to that truck?” fake shock and blame fills his loud exclamation, and I see the group of seniors start to move towards us from the corner of my eye.

“What the fuck?” The owner of the truck’s face turns beet red in rage, and Scott stumbles back. I catch the smirk plastered on Stiles’ face. When he looks up at me I just send him a look of disbelief, shaking my head, to which he just shrugs. The mob of seniors (that reek of weed by the way) jump Scott in seconds. I can’t help but feel pain hearing and seeing the impact of each punch as he tries to defend himself, arms half covering his face. Stiles’ shuffles awkwardly over to me, trying not to draw unwanted attention, and takes out Coach’s phone, watching the heart rate rise as Scott continues to be pummeled into the ground. I can taste that familiar smell of blood in the air now, making my face scrunch up. It’s hard to see with all of the fast moving limbs gathered in a big pile, but I notice Scott’s face shift, as though he is trying hard to concentrate. He’s listening for her voice. For Allison’s voice. Surely enough the numbers reach a plateau, not rising high enough to where he would typically shift.

“Stop! Stop that right now! What do you idiots think you’re doing?” Suddenly Mr. Harris bellows, walking over to break up the fight. The seniors disperse, being made to follow the teacher as we step forward to help Scott up from the floor. Blood is dripping from his nose, down to his lips, as he brushes his clothes down with his hands, and Stiles flips the phone around to show Scott the screen. A steady, normal heartbeat.

“It worked,”

Mr Harris saunters back over to us, an angry look on his face, but I’m pretty sure at this point that is his natural resting state. His arms cross in front of his chest.

“I assume you can already guess what I am about to say,” His voice is pissed and sarcastic as always. “Detention after school. The three of you,” Stiles scoffs loudly, instantly flailing his arms in shock,

“What? What for?” I elbow him in the side, maybe a bit too hard, as a way to get him to make sure he doesn’t make it worse, like usual.

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you damaged another student’s personal property? Or maybe it’s because you stole a teacher’s personal property? Or maybe, just maybe, I like seeing you punished,” He says the last sentence with a smirk, shaking his head slightly as a taunt. “Need I go on?” The rhetorical question is left up in the air and Stiles’ mouth hangs open, and we watch the chemistry teacher grab the Coach’s phone from Stiles’ hand and then walk off, back to the school building.

“Way to go, Stilinski,” I roll my eyes at his sputtering attempt at a reply.

-

Stiles and I sit at one desk, with Scott at the one in front of us, in the otherwise empty classroom. Well, except for Mr. Harris of course, who is sitting at the front of the room with his feet up on his desk, newspaper in hand. I pull out a biro and start mindlessly drawing on the back of my hand, catching myself too late when I realise that I was drawing my old pack symbol (the ‘Healer’s Hand’ - which is a hand with a spiral on the palm. A symbol of protection and healing but also a symbol for ‘eternity’. The second meaning always made more sense to me, as the last thing I would’ve called that pack would be ‘healing’). It’s a symbol that is permanently burned into my hip, which I really wish I had never gotten. To be honest, I never really wanted it that much in the first place. I can feel Stiles’ eyes on the drawing, and I quickly move my other hand to cover up the pen marks.

“What was that?” He whispers to me softly, clearly just curious, but I can’t stop myself from quietly snapping back at him,

“Does it matter?” I pause to breathe, calming myself down before apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I just- I don’t really like talking about it, if that’s okay,” Stiles moves a hand to gently rest atop of both of mine, he peers up to look me in the eyes. I push the hair out of my face and meet his warm gaze,

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to, okay? And that goes for whatever. You don’t need to feel guilty or anything for wanting to keep some stuff to yourself,” I let myself smile, looking back down to our hands. Stiles rubs his thumb soothingly along my hand.

“Excuse me, sir, I know it’s detention and all, but I’m supposed to be at work. And I don’t want to get fired,” Scott speaks up suddenly, catching both mine and Stiles’ attention, but not Mr. Harris’. The man continues reading his paper, and Scott suppresses a growl of annoyance in his throat. Scott then whips around to us, and Stiles’ slips his hand off of mine, awkwardly deciding what to do with it. He rests his chin on his hand, his elbow and upper arm supporting him, but his eyes glue themselves to the desk. Scott looks between us, catching the skip of both of his friend’s hearts, but choosing not to say anything about it. Instead he goes on to say “You knew I would heal,”

“Yep,” Stiles replies.

“So you did that to help me learn,”

“Yep,”

“But partially to punish me,”

“Yep,”

“For not being there the other day when your dad got hurt,” Stiles then looks up to Scott,

“You have something, Scott. Whether you want it or not. You can do things other people can’t. That means you don’t have a choice anymore. It means you have to do something,”

“I know, and I will,” After that, I notice Harris placing his newspaper down on his desk.

“Alright, the three of you. Out of here,” We all scramble out of our seats, grabbing our things quickly, eager to get the hell out of there.

Prev

#teen wolf #teen wolf series #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf season 1 #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles x y/n #Scott McCall #teen wolf rewrite

[crystalas]

Junk Yard Talks

A continuation of the Demon Bull Divorce AU. I’ve never done anything like this before so if you have any questions or prompts by all means go for it.

Takes place after Hindsight.

MK, Mei and Red Son are scrap hunting in the junk yard for stuff to upgrade the tuk-tuk and truck, they run into a certain pair of demons.

Junk yard talks

Mei had never thought of exploring the city’s Junk Yard because if she needed any parts for her bike, she could always buy them brand new from the shop but according to Red Son it was a treasure trove of finds. For her it was a treasure trove of smells.

“Especially for prototypes and if you’re on a budget!” he had explained giving MK and a side long glance, “For me at least if a prototype blows up then at least I don’t have to worry about costs!”

“So, what are we looking for?” MK demanded as he inspected a rusted-out van.

“I don’t know that’s the beauty of looking!” Red Son exclaimed “You never know when inspiration will hit you!”

“Hopefully inspiration will hit us without us needing tetanus jabs afterwards” Mei muttered as she navigated around some sharp looking scraps and then glared at MK.

“Don’t give me that look it was his turn to choose what we did for the day!” MK whispered back at her. “I thought you’d be into this being a motor head yourself!”

“When he said we were going to be looking at machine parts I thought he meant shopping not dumpster diving!” she hissed back. And Red Son had begun to rummage through what looked to be a car that had been hit a train, MK kept his hands in his pockets as he looked around. It was weirdly giving him an idea to draw a monster made of junk maybe with an old digger spade for a jaw and rusty chains for hair…he took out his little note book he always kept on him when such idea struck him and began to sketch down the parts he wanted to use.

Huh maybe Red Son was right about inspiration hitting you here.

“Monkie Kid!” a voice demanded “It’s your worst nightmare!”

“Yin!”

“Jin!”

“The gold and silver demons!” the two voices sang before mimicking a rock solo, only then did MK look up and saw the two demons glaring at him crossly as they perched on top of nearby junk pile obviously hoping for more of a reaction that dumb confusion.

“Oi mate!” the gold one growled “It’s considered common courtesy to at least look at your demise!”

“Sorry I was in the zone!” MK apologized as he took out his staff to fight.

“Yeah, well you’re being very rude!” Yin declared.

“Barging into our home, not even acknowledging our sweet introduction; downright disrespectful I’d call it!” Jin cried.

“Hey MK did you find anything?” Mei asked and MK waved her off. “Hey weren’t those the guys who tried to run Pigsy out of business?”

“Yeah, I gotta fight them so give me a minute”

“A MINUTE??!” the two demons roared “You got some nerve!”

“Need a hand?”

“Don’t ignore us!” Yin shouted and MK looked up to see the two demons leaping down prepared to fight and MK prepared to do battle.

“What’s going on Noodle boy?” Red Son demanded as he turned a corner just to see everyone in mid fight pause and stare at him before Yin and Jin took a step back.

“Monkie Kid! Not Monkey King!” Yin grumbled and smacked his brother around the head “Told you we should have written that down!”

“Kid, King it’s kinda easy to mix up!”

“Hey are we fighting or what?” MK demanded “You wanted this!”

“Nah we’re good!” Jin exclaimed “Hey Red Boy how are things?”

“Not bad all things considered” Red Son said “How are you two doing? Last I saw you were on TV trying to out cook Pigsy”

“Yeah, to be fair that was one of our more thought out plans we had…” Jin muttered.

“You know these guys?!” Mei demanded reminding the demons of the humans in the group. Red Son turned around to face his friends.

“Oh yeah we go waaaay back!” Jin laughed and patted Red Son on the back.

“We are probably the first demons to start mixing Tech and magic, these two are great to bounce ideas off with. Speaking of which, how did that improved calabash idea go? Did you managed to get pass that whole melting the victim problem?” Red Son asked and MK perked up at that last bit and saw the two metallic demons giving him an interesting look that was a mix of “don’t you dare tell him about that” and “Please don’t tell him about that”.

“Nah it kinda went belly-up we had to go back to the drawing board ya know?” Yin exclaimed and hustled Red Son away from MK in case the Monkie Kid decided to remind the two that the calabash did indeed work and he broke it when they tried to kidnap him with it.

“Pity” Red Son muttered “The idea of having an entire illusionary world that you can carry on you sounded like a fun idea. To be able to recreate places from memories or even create new locations entirely… you could have made it like a vacation spot for demons!”

“That’s a way better idea than using it as a holding cell for our enemies!” Jin moaned out loud to which everyone except MK turned to stare at him confused, Yin just face palmed.

“Anyway, you looking for anything in particular?” Yin interjected before anyone could question that statement Red Son pulled out a blue print.

“I’m looking to improve this, which needs better suspension…” he began and Yin looked at the blueprint nodded sagely, before scanning the junk yard.

“Yeah, I think I saw a quad bike over there, the engine is totally buggared but everything else is good to go!” he exclaimed Red Son grinned and trotted over with Yin leading the way. Jin watched the two go before glancing back at Mei and MK who were still on guard, sword and staff in hand just in case.

“So…how’s Red Boy been lately?” the demon asked quietly.

“Huh?!” Mei spluttered.

“I mean what with the whole divorce thing going on…”

“DIVORCE!?” MK cried out before being shushed by Jin loudly, he shot a look over to where his brother and Red Son had gone. “Sorry…but divorce? Red Son said his parents were going through a rough patch not ending it entirely!”

“That’s not what we heard on the ol’ demon grapevine, DBK going the whole nine yard on it. that’s practically unheard of in our community especially royalty. If you’re a king and you didn’t like your wife you just got a consort or something…”

“What did they say about Red Son?” MK asked concerned.

“Yeah, I heard you guys saying about mixing up Monkie Kid with Monkey King” Mei asked, all three scanned the area in case Red Son was in ear shot before returning to the huddle.

“We were told that until the whole thing was sorted out Red Son now belong to Monkey King’s court, turns out they meant YOUR court” Jin explained.

“Court sounds so uptight and fancy, I prefer the word team…” MK muttered before getting back on the topic. “Wait so why did DBK do that?” he demanded to which Jin just shrugged.

“No clue…” he muttered.

“How come he never told us? Does he even know himself?” Mei wondered but Jin couldn’t answer as Red Son and Yin came back easily dragging a quad bike that looked like someone had tried to drive it through a boulder and failed.

“Hey look these are practically brand new and we can use the fourth as a spare!” he chirped happily.

“Good find mate!” Jin beamed, “Why don’t you guys stay for lunch? We’re having toad in the hole!”

MK and Mei blanched at the idea of eating roasted toads or something and the demon brothers grinned.

“Oh, come on we’ll be having some spotted dick for afters!” he chuckled Mei nearly gagged at the idea and Red Son gave a sigh.

“Relax Toad in the hole is an English dish of sausage in batter, and spotted dick is a steamed current pudding” Yin and Jin gave a groan.

“Spoil our fun why don’t you?” Yin growled.

“You know how to cook English dishes?” MK asked.

“We travelled to London during the whole industrial revolution, very informative on the top-of-the-line tech at the time and what can we say? The accent stuck!” Jin explained “you found it fun too didn’t you Red?”

“You went too?” Mei asked and Red Son crossed his arms and looked annoyed.

“He didn’t stick around like we did, not after the Spring Heel Jack incident” Yin chuckled and playfully punched Red Son’s shoulder who gave a half-hearted growl.

“In my defence it was the one time and that old bat deserved getting her eye brows singed off, ‘filthy savage’ indeed!” he grumbled “all the other spring heeled jack sightings were not me!”

 Notes: I love the head canon that Yin, Jin and Red Son hang out and helped each other with their projects. Also, Spring Heel Jack was a Victorian creepy pasta of a being who could breathe fire, leap inhumanly high and vanish in an instant…sound familiar huh?

#red son #LMK Yin #lmk Jin #monkie kid mk #monkie kid red son #monkie kid mei

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 4 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Chapter summary: Cute work things (sorry im very hungover and i can't remember what i actually wrote)

Warnings: maybe a bit of second-hand embarrassment, masturbation

W/C: 1.5K

Part 1 Part 5

Monday night, Frankie arrived before you. The day cook, a grizzled old woman named Annette, gave him a toothy grin.

“Evenin’ hotshot,” she said. “You here to make all my dreams come true?”

“Only for a night, darlin’,” Frankie said.

“All you men are the same,” Annette laughed and handed Frankie the spatula. She gave him a to-do list, which was significantly shorter than the one on Friday night had been, bid him goodnight and hightailed it out of there, saying something about dinner with her husband.

Frankie watched the window out of the corner of his eye, waiting for you to arrive. There weren’t many orders up, so he could manage the task of cooking and having his head whip up every time he heard the tinkle of the chimes above the door.

It was almost forty-five minutes after he arrived before you came in, red faced and breathing heavily.

“I’m-I’m so sorry, Riss,” you panted. Marissa shrugged and patted you on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, sweet, I had some good company,” she winked at Frankie. “Have a good night, guys, don’t get into too much trouble!”

Frankie watched as you leant over the counter and caught your breath. “Do you want some water?”

You nodded wordlessly, straightening up. Frankie handed you a glass, a shock of electricity surging through him as your fingers briefly touched.

Fuck. He had it bad.

“I had to run here,” you said when you had your breath back. Frankie nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I found a kitten behind a dumpster, all wet and shivering and crying, so I had to take her to the vet.”

“What kind of kitten?” Frankie asked, having a soft spot for cats. He had had one, until he and Portia broke up and she took the cat with her. He didn’t hold it against her: Anthony the Great was technically hers.

“A black one. I’m not good with breeds,” you said.

The conversation was broken up by a pair of old men calling out your name. Your genuine smile was back as you greeted them. Frankie adjusted his cap and smiled to himself.

Occasionally he would glance up at you while he worked, catching the occasional glimpse of your side profile or the back of your head. You seemed a little lighter today, like you weren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was nearing 1 in the morning before he decided to attempt a conversation with you.

“So, how was your weekend?” He kept his tone light, nonchalant. You shrugged, pouring him a cup of coffee.

“It was okay, nothing special.” You stirred in the sugar as you spoke, avoiding his gaze. “My boyfriend has his stupid friends over so I spent most of my Sunday cleaning up after them.” Frankie deflated just a bit. Of course you had a boyfriend. Of course. Someone as beautiful as you . . . he’d be more surprised if you were single.

“But uh, I saw Manny on Sunday,” you continued, oblivious to Frankie’s disappointment. “You remember Manny, right? He was the night cook before you, you met him I think.”

“Yeah, I did. Nice guy.”

“Uh, yeah, so I saw Manny for lunch on Sunday and he suggested making a night shift lunch group.” You wiped down menus, deftly avoiding Frankie’s gaze. “And um, well, if you wanted to come this coming Sunday, that’d be cool.”

“You’re inviting me to lunch?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah,” you said, finally looking up at him. You flushed slightly. “If you’re interested, that is. You don’t have to, obviously, but Manny and I thought it would be nice. We could all get to know each other outside of this place. Make friends, you know?”

Frankie smiled, happy at least with the prospect of a friendship with you. “That sounds great. What time?”

“Midday, if you want you can give me your number later and I’ll text you the place?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Oh, and it’s just us three. So don’t invite the weekend crew, or your wife or anything.”

“I’m not married, so no problem there,” Frankie grinned at you. You nodded quickly, turning away before you could see the smile you were trying so desperately to fight off.

~*~

You didn’t know why it excited you so much that Frankie had said yes to Sunday lunch. Maybe it was because he wasn’t married, not that it made a difference.

Still, it gave you a slight thrill that Frankie had said yes.

You worked with a renewed vigor for the rest of the night. You weren’t sure any amount of rude customers or spilled drinks or broken plates that could bring you down. At one point you found yourself humming along to the radio, some song you hadn’t heard in years by an artist you couldn’t place. You knew it would bug you until you figured it out

“You like Prince?” Frankie asked, making you blush furiously at being caught with your guard down.

“I-uh-I-yeah. Yeah a bit,” you said, “actually, I haven’t listened to him in years. But I like a few of his songs.”

Frankie grinned and began to sing along in a terrible falsetto, making you snort with laughter. You danced along, allowing yourself this moment of freeing yourself of any embarrassment. After all, if Frankie was willing to put on the falsetto, it wouldn’t kill you to dance. The entire thing was ridiculous, but you were having a better time than you had had in months.

Frankie ended the song with a kick and a flourish, taking off his cap to bow dramatically.

“Have you ever thought of auditioning for one of those talent shows?” You grinned at him, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Actually, I’ve won several of them,” Frankie winked, “I just work jobs like this when I’m not on sold out world tours.” You laughed again at his joke, almost shocked at how easy it was to laugh with someone. How freeing it was to dance like a fool and not feel embarrassed or like you were in on the joke and not the butt of it.

The rest of the shift passed quickly, the night peppered with jokes between you and Frankie. At the end of the night, instead of rushing out the door as soon as your relief was there, you waited around a few minutes.

Your phone was mercifully free of messages from Kurt, pushing your mood even higher.

Frankie met you outside by the back door, and looked shocked to see you still there. You held up your phone as a way of explanation. “I still gotta get your number.” You handed your phone to Frankie, already open to the new contact screen. Frankie punched it in quickly and handed it back to you.

“What’s with the emojis?” you asked, squinting at them.

“It’s my nickname, Catfish. My buddies and I all had callsigns in the military and that was mine. Except for Benny. He was just Benny.”

“Catfish,” you repeated. “Well, I’ll see you tonight, Catfish.”

“Yeah, see you tonight.”

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You were too busy thinking. About him. Frankie. His dark, warm eyes that when you looked into them you felt like you could melt. The way his soft looking curls stuck out under his ever present cap. His smile that felt like safety. His hooked nose that led to lips you could only imagine kissing. His hands. You felt yourself warm as you imagined what you wanted his hands to do to you. You let yourself imagine what the rest of his body might look like.

Before you could overthink it and stop yourself, your fingers slipped between your folds and began to rub. You were wetter than you could remember yourself being. You moaned softly as you thought about him doing things to you that you didn’t even realise you wanted. Within minutes you were to your climax, legs stiffening and back arching. Sweat dotted your brow and your heart slammed into your ribcage. You hadn’t orgasmed in almost a year, always too exhausted to masturbate, and it wasn’t like Kurt gave a shit about you finishing when he fucked you.

The thought of Kurt immediately turned you sour. The burning feeling of betrayal knotted itself in your stomach. Kurt didn’t even let you have a vibrator. He had huffed and become scornful when you tentatively brought up the subject a few years back. He didn’t want anyone or anything but him to make you cum. It was a man's job to keep his woman satisfied, even if he struggled with the whole keeping you satisfied part.. You knew Kurt would practically have an aneurysm if he knew you were touching yourself to the thought of another man. But the thought of Frankie touching you gave you a thrill you hadn’t felt in years. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel truly guilty for it. Surely that was some kind of sign.

Eventually, you fell asleep a few hours before your alarm was supposed to go off. Normally, you dreamt of being in your own private space station, as far away from the apartment as possible. That night, you dreamt of Frankie.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 let me know if you'd like to be added <3

#the night shift #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier

[honey-dewey]

Christmas Miracle

Marcus Moreno/Reader

Word Count: 2,107

Warnings: Mild descriptions of the magic of childbirth and all the wonderful things that come with it

4 AM on Christmas morning was not when you wanted to be going into labor. And yet here you are, at 4 in the morning, on Christmas day, about to have a baby. Of course, that would be a lot easier if your lovely husband actually believed you were in labor. 

You groaned, rubbing your back and heading back to the bed you shared with your husband. Eight months pregnant and you were starting to regret having a kid. But you were a sucker for Marcus’s puppy eyes and Missy really wanted a sibling, so you’d caved. 

Checking your phone, you sighed. Four AM on Christmas morning. Of course the baby had to sit practically on your bladder at the ass crack of dawn on Christmas morning. 

Marcus was still dead asleep as you went to go crawl back into bed. For a superhero with incredible reflexes, you were shocked at how heavy of a sleeper he was. 

Right as you put your hands on the edge of the bed, you felt warmth trickle down your legs. Looking down, you saw a growing puddle on the floor, illuminated only by the dim lamp you’d turned on. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled, wondering how the hell you’d just had an accident right after using the bathroom, and then it hit you. 

“Marcus,” you reached over the bed as best you could and nudged your husband. “Marcus!” 

Marcus rolled over, sleepy eyes still half closed. “What?” 

“My water just broke.” 

Marcus didn’t answer. He checked the clock over your shoulder and let out a long sigh. “Babe, that isn’t funny. Go back to sleep.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Marcus Moreno!” You hissed quietly, desperate to keep Missy asleep despite her being all the way down the hall. “I am standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid, and you are absolutely right, this is not funny because it is not a goddamn joke!” 

As soon as he realized you were serious, Marcus was awake. He rubbed his eyes and pulled a shirt on, looking at you, standing there in soaked pyjama bottoms and one of his old shirts. “But we don’t have a bag packed and we aren’t ready! I thought you weren’t due until the end of January!” He said, rushing around. “Should we call the doctor?” 

“Yeah,” you said, trying to calm your rushing heart. “I’ll start cleaning this up, I guess.” 

“No,” Marcus said, handing you the phone, which was already ringing. “You call, I’ll clean.” 

So you waited on the phone while Marcus grabbed a towel from the hall closet. The receptionist picked up and transferred you to the doctor, who you explained the entire situation to. 

“Well,” the doctor said, clearly as sleepy as you. “I guess you’re having a baby today. Come in ASAP, we really can’t wait if your water just broke.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You said, looking at Marcus’s worried face. “I’m not having the baby today.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No, I’m not,” you insisted. “It’s Christmas.” 

The doctor laughed slightly. “Yes it is,” she agreed. “And you’re having a baby today.” 

Marcus took the phone before you could argue back. “We’ll be there soon,” he said, and you glared at him as he hung up. 

“I’ve already called my mom, and she’s gonna take Missy while we’re at the hospital,” Marcus said, quickly packing a bag for you. “She’s awake and exhausted, but should be ready to go.” 

While Marcus and Missy got ready, you did exactly what Marcus told you to do. Sit and wait in the car, clutching a stress ball for dear life. 

“Ready?” Marcus asked you, climbing into the car after he’d secured Missy in the backseat. 

“No.” 

Marcus smiled, taking your hand and kissing it. “You’ll be fine,” he promised. “Now c’mon, we have to hurry.” 

Missy gave you both a very sleepy goodbye when you dropped her off, and Anita smiled, telling you to keep a level head and crush Marcus’s fingers if you had to. 

“Yeah, thanks mom.” Marcus rolled his eyes playfully, turning to you. “Here we go.” 

You only grew more and more nervous as Marcus drove closer to the hospital. When he parked, you refused to drop your death grip on his hand, which was seemingly fine with him. He simply rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you two headed into the hospital. 

The doctor was waiting for you at the reception area, smiling and guiding you to a room. “It seems the baby wanted to make a very unforgettable entrance,” she said, gesturing to the bed in the room. “Go ahead and put the gown on and lie down. I’ll be right back.” 

Marcus had to help you, considering the size of your stomach. Once you’d laid down, he took both your hands. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said softly. “Want me to tell you the story of how much of an absolute dumpster fire Missy’s birth was?” 

You nodded, leaning into his touch. Marcus settled on the bed next to you, pushing sweaty hair off your forehead. “I was out on a mission,” he started. “And I got this call from Tech-no. And he said ‘hey your wife is in labor.’” 

Marcus smiled, the memories flooding back. “I rushed back to headquarters, of course, because that’s where she was. I was just in time, but she didn’t get an epidural or anything because it all happened so fast. Hell, she almost had Missy in the hallway. I got into the room, and she screamed at me, asking me where I’d been. Now, Missy made a very fast entrance after that, and I’m talking like. Two or three minutes. So they let us hold her, cleaned her up, took her away and all that, and then Clara looked at me, and she was absolutely exhausted. She cussed me out, and then told me I was bleeding.” 

You gasped softly. “No.” 

“Yeah!” Marcus laughed. “I had this massive cut on my face! I needed stitches, and Clara was so worried. But when I got back from getting my stitches, she was dead asleep. And honestly, our little Christmas miracle cannot get any more exciting than Missy.” 

You nodded, rubbing your stomach. “It hurts.” 

Marcus bit his lip. “I hear you,” he said softly, kissing your forehead. “I hear you. It’ll be over before you know it, and then we can take our beautiful baby home, okay?” 

At that moment, the doctor came back, tying her blonde hair up. “So!” She said cheerily. “The nurse told me you two refrained from seeing your baby’s gender. We have some news about that.” 

You and Marcus both looked at each other, worried. “Why?” You asked. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong,” the doctor reassured. “Your baby is very healthy. Both of them, in fact.” 

“Both?” You yelled, at the same time Marcus began to shake his head, eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean both?” 

The doctor pulled her gloves on, resting a hand on your knee. “You’re having twins Mrs. Moreno.” 

You turned to Marcus, who had gone white as a sheet. “I hate you.” 

“Y’know,” Marcus said weakly. “I think I agree with that statement.” 

The doctor laughed. “Don’t you worry,” she said, lifting the bottom of your gown and nodding to herself. “You’re all in position to have a natural birth, and we have plenty of time for that epidural.” 

“Good,” you said, still glaring at Marcus. 

The anesthesiologist came in and instructed you and Marcus to keep your eyes closed while he gave you your epidural. You did, gripping Marcus’s hands as tightly as you could, your face buried firmly in his shoulder. He shifted in front of you, resting his forehead against yours. “Breathe babe, you have to breathe.” 

Once the epidural was done and over with, your pain went way down. You were slightly hungry, and still definitely hurting, but the pain had subsided enough for you to actually take a nap. 

When you woke, it was nearer to noon, and the doctor came to check on your progress. 

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “Try taking a walk. I would usually recommend the gardens, because they’re close, but it’s winter.” 

Which was how you and Marcus ended up slowly wandering down the halls of the hospital, you clutching his arm for balance. 

“Still mad at you,” you grumbled at one point. “Fucking twins. We couldn’t even name one baby.” 

Marcus chuckled. “Well. It seems Missy’s birth could be topped.” 

You punched his arm, a ripple of pain hitting you and causing you to gasp. “Marcus,” you whined softly. “Back to the room, please.” 

Despite the epidural, you were really starting to feel pain now, screwing your face up every few minutes. Marcus sat by your bed, reading a book out loud to you, but it did little to distract you. 

By the time two pm had rolled around, you were pretty much in agony. Marcus had abandoned the book in favor of whispering soft comforts and smoothing sweat soaked hair off your face. 

“Okay!” The doctor said. She’d taken some time to get everything ready and grab a few more nurses, so it was now two twenty. “Mrs. Moreno, I think it’s time to push.” 

You took a deep breath. Marcus was right beside you, holding both your hands. You poked the power restraint bracelet he wore, huffing out a small laugh. “Really?” 

“Most of the things here are metal,” Marcus explained with a grin. “And my powers tend to flare when I get stressed.” 

The doctor smiled. “Ready?” 

You nodded, preparing yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even so, you were not ready. 

Forty five minutes and much screaming later, both you and Marcus were exhausted, but there were two babies in the room. 

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Moreno,” the doctor said softly, handing you the swaddled babies. “Two perfectly healthy little girls. Identical, we believe.” 

You smiled wearily down at the babies. “Welcome,” you whispered, kissing both of their foreheads. “Clara and Vanessa Moreno.” 

You heard a sniffle to your right and looked over, seeing Marcus crying. He delicately took Clara from you, a watery grin blooming across his face. “She looks just like my old Clara.” 

Smiling, you leaned closer to Marcus. “If she’s even half the woman Clara was, I will be so immensely proud of her.” 

“I’ll be proud of them no matter what.” 

You looked down at Vanessa, who was, even as a newborn, so clearly a spitting image of her father. “Me too.” 

Marcus handed a nearby nurse Clara and looked down at his hands, both of which were bright red. “Babe.” 

“What?” 

He held his hands up. His left index finger was at an odd angle, and both his palms had tiny crescent shaped cuts in them.

“Okay?” You argued playfully, handing another nurse Vanessa. “You put fucking twins in me!” 

Marcus shrugged. “Y’know,” he said. “I feel like that’s fair.” 

That night, after the girls had been fed and napped, and you had been too, Missy and Anita came to visit. You held Clara, knowing Marcus was in the bathroom with Vanessa.

“Missy,” you said to her, seeing her wide eyed expression. “This is your little sister Clara.” 

Missy reached a hand out to her sister, slowly touching her little hat. “She looks like Dad.” 

“Where is Marcus?” Anita asked, standing on your other side. “How many of his fingers did you break?” 

You laughed. “Three.” 

“Really?” Missy said. 

“Nah.” You readjusted Clara a tiny bit. “I broke one and gave him a few cuts from my nails.” 

Anita laughed. “That’s my daughter-in-law!” 

“Are you talking about me out there?” Marcus’s voice echoed from the bathroom. 

“Yes!” Anita called back. “Come here, I want to congratulate you for having a second beautiful little girl.” 

Marcus opened the door. “Might wanna change that number Mama.” 

Anita gasped, seeing tiny Vanessa in her father’s arms. “You did not!” 

“I already told him I hated him,” you said jokingly, nudging a seemingly frozen Missy. “Honey, you have another sister.” 

Missy blinked, looking at Vanessa. “But.” 

“No one knew,” you said softly. “But we love her just as much.” 

Anita smiled. “Well damn,” she said. “Marcus, I cannot believe it.” 

“Oh I’m fairly certain she’s gonna hunt me for sport as soon as she can walk,” Marcus said, looking at you. “Missy, honey, why don’t you sit on the bed with Mom.” 

Missy did, looking surprised when Marcus slowly lowered Vanessa into her lap. 

“Just like that,” Marcus said, sitting cross legged across from Missy on the bed. “Cradle her head, there you go.” 

You let Anita take Clara, watching her settle in a wayward chair. “Well Mr. Moreno,” you said sleepily, tugging Marcus closer to you. “Merry Christmas. I am never going to be able to get you a better gift.” 

Marcus laughed. “Merry Christmas darling. And I very much agree.”

If you liked this, I do dialogue prompt requests as well! Go request something if you want!

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal #my writing