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doctenwho · 3 years

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Gestures and Evasion

Hello! Welcome to a new DT fic! My deepest apologies that it’s been so long, and thank you so much for waiting so patiently! Life’s been a bit of a rollercoaster recently, and I’ve needed a bit to recuperate, but I’m back again!

This prompt didn’t have a specific character mentioned, but luckily, since it wasn’t anonymous, I was able to shoot pistachoz a DM and they’ve confirmed it’s a Tenth Doctor request! :D

Warning: None, I don’t think?

Word Count: 3,514

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the creator! :D)

The Doctor doesn’t really remember the first small act he’d committed to try and get his companion to notice him. To notice him on a... well, on a more personal level?

It’s a general memory, nothing pinpointed, but he knows it happened long ago.

It was something small—mundane. (Y/N) had more or less brushed the gesture off with a light laugh and a smile that made his hearts hammer away in his chest, but (Y/N) had really seen if for what it had been.

It wasn’t very often that the Doctor had these sort of feeling about anything, but there was just something special about (Y/N). Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

He’d been trying for just about as long as the companion had been travelling with him to send little messages, or gestures in hopes that maybe (Y/N) would see what he was doing for what it was instead of brushing it off like she tended to do.

If he’s honest, he’s never really had this kind of problem before. He’s had many companions, and more often than not, those companions tend to want more from him than he’s willing to allow himself to give. Rose, and Martha—Jack, even—they were all looking for more from him, and being what he is, and what he does, it’s not that simple to reciprocate feelings.

They’ll all age and eventually die, whereas he’ll just move on to his next bout of regeneration with a broken heart he’ll have to try his hardest to keep under wraps.

The Doctor knows that maybe (Y/N) showing such little interest in him is almost a good thing. Less heartbreak down the road when (Y/N) decides not to accompany him any longer, or, worse, when old age takes (Y/N) away like every other human before her. It’s inevitable, and he really should have a stronger hold on human life compared to TimeLord life, but the loss always knocks him down for a while.

It should be a good thing, but he just can’t seem to bring himself around to believing that it’s a good thing. Not when every time (Y/N) brushes off a gesture he’s thought over, and put time and effort into, it fills his hearts with an unfamiliar pain he hasn’t felt since losing his family and Gallifrey alike.

It had taken him a while to notice he was even trying to win (Y/N) in a sort of courtship way. And it had taken even longer to realize he’d been doing it for about as long as he’d known (Y/N). It hadn’t seemed like it at the time, but looking back now, he can see how all the little comments and gestures were more than just friendly.

But she’d been brushing his attempts off since early in their travels. Shooting him a smile, but turning away when anything too even the slightest romantic turn. Avoiding his eyes when he stared fondly, or laughing it off when a compliment slipped past his lips.

He really didn’t understand it.

He could see the Gallifreyan romantic gestures confusing (Y/N), but the few earth gestures he’d picked up barely stirred anymore of a reaction than the Gallifreyan ones. He didn’t know where he was going wrong—how it was all being perceived the way it was. The wrong way. He wasn’t getting the reactions he wanted and... well, it hurt.

Both his pride, and his hearts.

It had started small with flowers—or, a flower. They were on a foreign planet, but he knew giving small gifts like a flower was one of the human gestures. So, he’d searched around while his companion was busy exploring, and located the loveliest flower he could find. It was mixtures of blues and purples; native to the planet but incredibly rare considering they only bloomed twice a year, for no longer that three days at a time.

The flower had a sweet smell; one similar to those of sweets from earth. For a while, before he’d remembered Earth didn’t have this specific species of flower, nor were they advanced enough in space travel to find one, he’d assumed they’d used the attractive scent of the flower as a marketing technique to sell their sweets.

The sugary smell Earth sweets had would always come second to the scent of this specific flower.

The exchange had been short, and less than pleasurable if the Doctor’s honest. He’d found (Y/N) sitting on the ground, just taking the calming atmosphere of the planet. His heart stuttered in his chest before he finally took those last few steps towards her, where he settled at her side and cleared his throat to gain her attention.

He’d held the flower out, rambling out facts as (Y/N) took the flower into her hands. She gave it a sniff, and fiddled with the stem and petals for a second before smiling down at it. She stared down at it, before looking back at him with an appreciative smile. He’d thought he’d won her over, but instead, she settled the flower on the ground beside her.

His hearts had cracked as his companion’s hand fell away from the flower, leaving it on the ground as she returned her attention to the world around her. He’d swallowed thickly before sitting himself beside her, not bothering to mention the fact his gesture had gone unnoticed.

It was the same ordeal when he’d ordered (Y/N) a space delicacy from one of his favorite planets, where his companion had taken the treat into her hands and tasted it without a second thought. Smiling down at the treat, before shooting him light smile as she licked her lips.

He didn’t know why he’d been expecting—hoping for—anything more than the usual ‘Thank you’ he always received when he did something out of the ordinary for his companion, but the mumbled words had filled his with a sense of sadness.

It was silly.

But he kept trying.

The gestures just kept coming. It was barely a forethought anymore. An unconscious effort to try and win over his companion—seeking this relationship (Y/N) quite obviously didn’t want. It was a sad downward spiral, but he really couldn’t imagine not trying to woo her. He’d been at it for so long, not trying sounded foreign.

He tried just about anything he could to get any sort of reaction. Any hint that his companion knew what he was trying to do. Any acknowledgment that she understood that he was trying. He’d prefer blatant rejection to this... whatever this evasive attitude (Y/N) was expressing.

Dinner in the stars.

Unique gifts from distant planets.

Various treats and snacks from wherever they happened to be.

He even tried to learn more about human things on earth. How humans went about stuff like this, and how it all differed from his Gallifreyan roots. Human courting was quite the oddity.

He didn’t talk to many humans who weren’t his companions, or people he’d saved in some way or another, but the man who ran one of the shops had taken some time to educate him, but the Doctor had come out of that conversation more confused than he’d gone in.

But on the bright side, (Y/N) had enjoyed the bag of sweets he’d awkwardly bought to stand at the register and chat with the friendly shopkeeper.

He was still at a loss. Nothing seemed to be working. Nothing wooed his companion. He didn’t understand—couldn't see how not one single thing he’d tried had gotten (Y/N)’s attention.

But he still had one more thing up his sleeve.

“Where are we going?” (Y/N) asked cautiously from the seat in the console room. The Doctor was doing his usual laps around the TARDIS console to what should be six TimeLord’s jobs simultaneously. He’d gotten good at it over the years, but there was still, occasionally, some rough kickbacks when he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“It’s a surprise,” the man shot his companion a grin, pulling a lever. At this point, (Y/N) should be used to the surprises. He never got the kinds of reactions he was looking for, but he was still hoping that... maybe sometime he would. That something he planned would be the special one that could win his companion over.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, but continued to watch the Doctor how around the TARDIS like a madman.

They weren’t far from the next greatest surprise the man had planned. They’d been travelling a little under an hour, and (Y/N) had only joined him in the console room ten-ish minutes prior, but he’d still refused to tell her where they were heading.

(Y/N) was still quiet when the Doctor stabilized his space and time machine, checking everything twice before finally tugging his companion up by the hand and leading her towards the doors.

He threw the doors open, grinning widely as he gazed around. Just as promised.

It was a phenomenon really. A collection of heart shaped carbon monoxide ice chunks. No one was quite sure how they’d been formed, or whether someone had carved the hearts and left them to float in this tiny orbital pull in the middle of nowhere.

It was a sight few saw—the Doctor had only heard of this place from chatter on a nearby planet, but he had to admit it was just as beautiful as he’d imagined. The ice glistened as the light casted from the TARDIS hit it, making them twinkle just as brightly as the stars in the background.

It was about as romantic as you could get.

“Woah,” (Y/N) gaped at his side, and the Doctor turned to look, smile slowly lighting up his face as he watched his companion’s eyes travel from heart to heart. “What... what is this?”

“It’s carbon monoxide ice,” the Doctor informed softly, the smile on his face widening as his hearts thrummed in his chest. His companion had an astonished look on her face, eyes wide with childlike curiosity. “Like that of Mars in your solar system. No one’s really sure how they take shape but... well, they’re quite the sight.”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) breathed out, almost like her breath was taken away by the sight.

The Doctor had been told by many, had seen for himself as beauty takes away people’s breath. He’d been there too, once or twice with his current companion.

He barely even caught his words as they left his mouth—his heart speaking before his brain had a chance to filter his words, “Like you.”

That was his moment of error, the Doctor noticed.

He frowned to himself as his companion slowly pulled themself away, shying away from his side and retreating back into the TARDIS with one last lingering glance at the ice. The Doctor’s hearts froze within his chest, as he watched uncertainly—unsure just how he’d managed to mess this one up as well.

“It’s late,” (Y/N) muttered softly before leaving the Doctor alone in the TARDIS doorway, the man’s gaze locked on one lone heart with a barely noticeable crack down the center. It wouldn’t be long before the orbit around them pulled the frail pieces apart, severing the heart into two.

The TimeLord forced a breath, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment as he resided completely with the cracked heart.

He didn’t understand.

The clumps of frozen carbon monoxide made his hearts hurt the longer he stared, so he was quick to follow on his companion’s footsteps, spinning on his heels and shuffling back inside, making sure to shut the doors behind him.

He wanted to flee this place, this failed attempt, but he couldn’t bring himself around to flying the TARDIS at the moment. He didn’t have the energy too. Like expected, (Y/N) had disappeared into the TARDIS, so the Doctor plopped heavily down on the seat.

Maybe it was time to accept the fact that his companion did not reciprocate his feelings. That he was barking up the wrong tree. He’d thought that they were... but maybe he was wrong.

The Doctor stared up at the TARDIS ceiling, his space and time machine giving a little hum as if she could feel his worries and mood. His hand patted the back of his seat halfheartedly as a promise that he was okay.

It had never been this hard with any other companion. There was just something so special about (Y/N). Something he wanted to get closer too, even though he knew he’d end up hurt in the end. Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get now.

Maybe it was time to settle this once and for all. His gestures were overlooked, or, maybe even ignored. As much as it hurt to admit, (Y/N) didn’t seem very enthused with anything he’d done. Maybe it was the human not understanding what he was trying to do—but humans tended to like words.

The Doctor from (Y/N) in her room, perched on the edge of her bed. (Y/N)’s attention raised when the Doctor announced his arrival with a sturdy knock on the slivered-open door. The knock pushed the door in enough for the Doctor to poke his head in.

“Do you, uh, have a moment?” He asked cautiously, almost ready for the rejection he’d been living with for the better part of travelling with (Y/N). He’d grown used to it, but it still tugged at his heart strings. She’d never deny him conversation, but he could still see and feel her pulling away from him.

“Of course,” (Y/N) sat up a little more, giving the Doctor her full attention. “What’s the matter?”

He hadn’t thought this far ahead, the Doctor realizes as he shifts from foot to foot in (Y/N)’s doorway, mind vacant of any thoughts. (Y/N) tilted her head at the Doctor’s odd silence, studying him from her spot, “Doctor...? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” the man cleared his throat. Then did so a second time before continuing, “I wanted to, uhm, know what you thought about the, uh,” he gestured broadly behind him, hoping his companion could piece his question together.

“The ice hearts?”

It was a good thing his companion was so clever.

“Yes, the hearts.” The Doctor nods, fingers tapping awkwardly against his side. “Did you... did you like them?”

“They were beautiful,” (Y/N) repeated once again, fidgeting with her own fingers, “it was a bit unexpected, but... yeah, I did. Thanks for showing me them.”

The man gave a nod, but didn’t voice anything. If he thought his voice would’ve come out naturally instead of the anxious waver he was sure would be there, he definitely would’ve replied with a soft ‘My pleasure,’ because it really was his pleasure to introduce (Y/N) to the beauty of the galaxy.

There was an unsettling moment of silence where neither really knew what to say.

It was the Doctor who broke it, staring at his shoes as he finally allowed the words he’d been stewing over out, “do you... not like me, (Y/N)?”

“What?” the surprise was prominent. The word rang out for a second before the Doctor lifted his gaze to settled on (Y/N)’s shocked, tense frame. Her muscles were stiff, body sitting up straighter and more alert than she had been when he’d first asked to talk. “I like you plenty,” (Y/N) assured quickly, “what gave you the idea I didn’t?”

There was a list, really. He could count things off on his fingers, but he wasn't here to be petty. The man bit his lip, leaning against the doorframe to support his weight. He honestly just wanted to know why (Y/N) was so evasive every time he so much as tried to woo her.

“You... well, uh, you never seem to care,” he made sure to word it carefully, “I... I’m not sure if you even notice, or ignore it, or what. I just, I need you to be honest with me. Why haven’t you... reciprocated any feelings?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Doctor,” (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and one ankle crossed over the other as she leaned forwards in interest.

“Since I met you,” the Doctor swallowed, “I’ve been... I don’t know how to say it but, trying to court you, I suppose? That’s not really something humans do, but it is something TimeLords do. It’s just that... every attempt I’ve made... every try I’ve made to do something cute, or romantic, you brush it off. You’re evasive, and... I’d just like to know if that’s because you don’t reciprocate my feelings. If you don’t feel the same, we can just put this all behind us.”

“It’s not like that,” (Y/N)’s voice was quiet, a near whisper, “please don’t think it’s because I don’t like you. I do, Doctor. I just... I wasn’t sure.”

“Weren’t sure?” The man furrowed his eyebrows, “sure about what?”

“I didn’t want to risk our friendship. I noticed everything, the flower you gave me, the sweets. All the dinners, and the... the dates. Today with the ice hearts even. I didn’t know how to admit I liked you when there was a chance you didn’t like me back the same way. I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this.”

“But the gestures and dates?” the Doctor frowned, finally stepping into (Y/N)’s room and sitting on the edge of her bed beside her. He’d thought he was being obvious.

“Very obvious,” his companion let out a little laugh, “and I should’ve known, but I was scared. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. This adventure is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I didn’t want to compromise that by admitting my feelings.”

He could understand that, a bit. “So... you do like me too?”

“Of course,” (Y/N)’s smile was soft, “a lot, Doctor. I just... didn’t know how to reciprocate it without there being a possibility that everything could fall through, and we’d ruin our relationship in the process. I know you were offering it, but I was nervous. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” the Doctor chastised quietly. He paused for a second before speaking again, “I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” he admitted with a tilt of his head, “you really acknowledged it all? I... never noticed.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled softly, “and I have proof it wasn’t all in vain, Doctor.” (Y/N) stood up from her spot on the bed, and moved towards her book shelf. It housed a few books, and some trinkets she’d found on their travels and liked. She continued speaking as she searched through the books, “I really enjoyed everything you put together for me since I met you. I wasn’t sure you were really doing it all to be romantic at first but... the hearts today really summed that up for me.”

The man watched as she tugged on one of the book’s spines, pulling it from the shelve and holding it in her hands for a second before she waving to retake her seat. She started flipping through the pages, so the Doctor leaned over her shoulder to watch.

“Here,” she stopped on a page towards the middle of the book. The Doctor refrained from gaping as his companion carefully pulled that singular flower he’d given her all that time ago from the book. The room was instantly filled with that sweet, alluring scent and his hand shook as he took the pressed flower into his fingers by the delicate stem.

“I thought you left this,” he admitted softly, studying the vibrant colours that had stayed even after being pressed into the book. He hadn’t noticed her bringing the flower back. Had really thought she’d left it on that planet and ignored the gesture entirely.

“I couldn’t,” his companion sighed, “it was selfish, even if I didn’t want to ruin what we had, I wanted to keep it to remember the moment. To remember you, even if we did at some point part ways.”

“You’re brilliant,” the Doctor breathed out, finally passing the flower back like it was as precious as a crown jewel or something. “So incredibly brilliant, (Y/N).”

(Y/N)’s cheeks flushed and she ducked her head away from his gaze, but it was different than the usual brushing away of his gestures. Something was different now.

They hadn’t cleared it all up, that was for sure. He still had questions, and she still had doubts. They didn’t quite understand each other yet, but it hadn’t all been in vain like he’d thought. She’d seen it all. Acknowledged it, even if not to him. His hearts swelled as he smiled lightly.

There was still a lot they needed to discuss, but for right now, the Doctor just wanted to spend a bit of time with his companion—without all the hassle of their rightful doubts and insecurities.

“Do you think we could... spend a little while longer looking out at the frozen carbon monoxide outside before we leave? It really is quite pretty, and... maybe we can talk about this more later?”

“I’d... love that, Doctor.”

“Good. Uh, great,” he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His companion giggled at him, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, “allons-y, (Y/N).”

<><><><>

Once again, sorry this took so long! I’m hoping to keep this momentum going and keep getting out the requests in waiting! I hope you all liked this fic, it was a bunch of fun to write! I thoroughly enjoyed creating the frozen carbon monoxide hearts, so I hope you all liked that as well!

As always, feel free to prompt me again if this wasn’t what you were looking for (though it might take a while to get around to it if you do!) and thanks once more for requesting. Hoping everyone had a good morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #ten #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #10 #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #TARDIS #writing prompt #writing requests #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic

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fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

Text

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

“You’re back!”

You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

“Hello?”

You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

“Very! Any pet name preferences?”

You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

If friends was the right word for it.

You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.

“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

“Then jump!”

The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

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calpops · 4 years

Text

family | c.h.

A plan for dinner in which your parents are to meet Calum for the first time doesn’t go as expected but it shows you who your true family is.

1.3k words

dates with cal masterlist

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You stand with a heavy heart, patience running thin and hope shattering on the kitchen floor where you had prepared a dinner you hoped to share with Calum and your parents. Calum is beside you, his arm around your waist and understanding in his eyes. He knew of your rocky relationship with your parents and the troubles it could arise but he had yet to meet them. Tonight is supposed to be that night. You shift, head shaking and eyes burning.

“Are you sure you told them the right time?” Calum asks, trying to stay optimistic so you don’t crumble any further. His hand squeezes your waist to remind you he’s there even if they aren’t.

“I think so,” you say around a tight sigh and fish into your pocket for your phone. “I called them last night. They sounded like they wanted to come. They promised.”

Your parents aren’t prone to making promises and just the word was enough to elicit false hope into you. No messages light up your screen as you glance down at your phone.

“Maybe... your parents don’t like me?” Calum questions and tries to make it a joke, tries to make his tone light and take the burden off your shoulders.

“They don’t even know you,” you reply, suddenly resigned and defeated. You know waiting for them will be excruciating. Standing around in the kitchen with the cooling food as a reminder of their tardiness isn’t going to help. You busy yourself with wrapping the dishes to put in the fridge.

“What are you doing?” Calum’s voice comes from behind you as you slide a salad in.

“It’s gonna get gross if it stays out much longer. I’ll just put it away while we wait.”

Your tone verges on desperation and Calum senses it immediately. He sees the shine of your eyes and the way your hands clench around the handle of the fridge.

“We can wait,” Calum reassures, lightly rubs the small of your back to calm you down and helps put away the rest with you before heading to the living room couch.

Duke joins you, curls up on your lap as a comfort mechanism—able to sense your distress and sadness without even understanding why—Calum sits beside you, tries at small talk while time ticks by. It’s an hour past the time they said they’d be here. Your hope is all but decimated when you check your phone one last time and come up empty. You feel as if you shouldn’t be surprised. This is nothing new; they missed birthdays and graduations and everything in between, but for some reason—perhaps a reason that shines with diamonds, an opal and your entire future—you thought it might be different this time.

“They’re not coming,” you realize just seconds before a call lights up your phone and hope comes back to taunt you. You answer with a timid greeting. Crack out an ‘okay’ when the hope goes back to shards and hang up the phone with tears on your cheeks. “They’re not. They said they have some stuff at home. Some-something about a…”

You can’t even finish their lame excuse before a sob slips through and you hide your face in your hands. Calum’s arms wind around you without hesitation, he pulls you into his chest, hands falling from your face in favor of hiding against him. His hands stroke through your hair, down your back, up and down again and again until another sob breaks and you start to shake.

“Sweetheart,” he says and it’s more than you could have thought to say if the roles were reversed. His voice is soft and sincere when he continues. “I’ve got you.”

You know what he means when he says that. Your parents aren’t here for you, they never really have been, but he is and the ring on your finger is a promise that he always will be. You try to collect yourself and stop a sob in its attempt to escape you. Instead a hiccup comes out and you hear Calum’s little huff of a giggle; he’s always said your hiccups are adorable.

“I feel stupid,” you admit and wonder if Calum can even understand you through the muffle and shake of your voice. He does. He always does.

“It’s not your fault,” he reminds but you shake your head.

“I should know better by now. They do this all the time,” you begin, finally finding some voice for the aching thoughts plaguing you. You still won’t pull away from him, too content to bask in his comfort, unsure you can look him in the eye when tears still slide from yours. “They don’t even want to meet the man I’m going to marry before I marry him. They probably won’t come to the engagement party. It’d be a miracle if they show up to the wedding. They just don’t care. Family isn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Family is complicated,” Calum says but you don’t want any attempts at justifications, whether either of you believe them or not. You just want a family that cares.

“I should be used to it by now—I just don’t have a family, not really.”

“You do,”‘ Calum insists and doesn’t let you hide anymore, his hands cup your jaw and gently coax you to look at him. “You have me and my parents and Mali and the guys and all of our friends. We are here for you. We love you.”

You nod, unable to find words to express the thoughts now finding you. He’s right. He has been there for you since the day you met. His parents took to you the moment you were introduced to them and Mali even before that, she texted you and called you well before an in person meeting. The guys welcomed you with open arms and thanked you for making Calum happy. They are his family and made you a part of it. The friends you made in adulthood had become like siblings. You might be missing some pieces but there are other people to fill in the gaps and make you feel whole.

“I love you,” you finally manage to get out, wipe your eyes and sniffle.

“And someday”—Calum says, thumb brushing away tears you missed—“we’ll have a family of our own.”

You let out a breath, a smile trudging through the sadness at his words that kick up ripples of warmth from the inside out. You nod, this time with happiness and a yearning for that future. For that family.

“We will,” you say, sure about that. “I’ll never be like my parents.”

“I know,” Calum responds with just as much certainty and a smirk growing on his face. “How many kids do you want?”

You tilt your head to the side. “At least two. So they can always have a friend.”

Calum laughs and nods in agreement. “Two is good. D’you have any names picked out yet?”

You bite your lip and dart your eyes up to the ceiling. The way he knows that you do and is waiting to hear them makes you know the ring on your finger and all of the promises it comes with are meant to be. Your lip springs free and you grin.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit but want to keep them secret until the time is right.

Calum talks to you about the future. You both get lost in a world yet to come. Make plans that won’t happen for years to come but you would bet with your whole heart and soul will happen eventually. Calum wouldn’t lie to you. Calum wouldn’t string you along and break your heart. He’s your family now.

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If you’d like to be added to my tag list just let me know!

Based on the dates with cal engagement prompt: your family doesn’t like me? And @outerspaceisbetterthannothing message of: They plan on finally meeting her parents. She’s very nervous and the very last moment her parents ditch them, saying they won’t be able to come because of some shit and that it’s not so important anyway, they’re sure Cal is a nice guy and they’ll meet him at the wedding. And she’s really upset and Cal tries to reassure her when he sees her tears, saying he is her family now and she has his parents and his sister and all of the boys. That’s her family, she’s not alone.

Tagged: @rosecolouredash @irwinkitten @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos @caswinchester2000 @wildflowergrae @empathycth @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid @babylon-corgis @outerspaceisbetterthannothing @mariellelovescupcakes @xhaileyreneex @goth5sos @gosh-im-short @feliznavidaddycal @loveroflrh @findingliam-o @flowerthug @g-l-pierce @talkfastromance4 @superbloomirwin @wastedheartcth @calumscalm @notinthesameguey @lukesfuckingbeard @myloverboyash @treatallwithkindness @haikucal @wiildflower-xxx @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood @drarryetcetera @another-lonely-heart @megz1985 @idk-harry @dinosaursandsocks @wildflower-cth @idontneedanyone @everyscarisahealingplace @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @karajaynetoday @333-xx @calumshpod @calumsphile @calumrose @justhereforcalum @grreatgooglymoogly @calumance @mantlereid @hemmingslftv

#Calum hood blurb #Calum hood imagine #Calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5sos x you #5sos x reader #Calum hood angst #5sos angst #cal!dates #cal!engagement

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riversmithmelody · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: The Doctor/The Master/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/River Song, Missy/River Song Characters: River Song, Missy (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor, Susan Foreman, Irving Braxiatel Additional Tags: Reunions, Happy Ending, Fluff, riverdoctorpromptweek, Sunsets, Happily ever after only means time Series: Part 6 of River & Doctor Prompt Week 2021 Summary:

“Everyone is asleep even mother.” Susan said and there was humor in her voice. “Well Hope and Melody are still in the kitchen and talking about stuff I don’t want to know about, but they don’t count.” River shot her granddaughter a look that was more fondness than the warning it probably should have been. “Don’t be mean to your sister.” She scolded lightly and Susan beamed. “Grandfather would be proud of me.” She countered and River didn’t need to ask which one Susan meant. She just shook her head.

*** River waits for the sun to set and her spouses, but this time she isn't alone and she knew's she's loved.

This kind of is a continuation of my first Prompt "The Price of Freedom" Excerpt beneath the cut!

River watched as slowly, the sun set. Turning the bright orange sand of the Gallifreyan desert into a bloody red sea. Once upon a time she had feared this. Sunsets and what they brought, because after all there was only one night left with her husband. Her beloved idiot, before her story would end. She never anticipated that her story would only begin with a sunset.

It started with 24 years and ended with her waking up in the cluster of Gallifrey with the voice of a woman in her head.

Thank you for showing me love .

The words still rattled her from time to time. She would wake up to them. With the taste of time vortex on her tongue and the happy laughter of a child in her ears. Especially after first Theta and then Koschei left her alone on Gallifrey to see the universe and live the live River already had lived through. Still the voice haunted her more and more often the closer they came to the Time War.

“Aunt Patience's!” A cheerful voice called and River turned just in time to catch the little body of her youngest niece.

“Hello darling.” River said and pressed a kiss to the Child's cheek.

“Aunt Patience's grandfather said I would meet my uncles today?” The child Ana as everyone called her, because nobody liked the name her parents had given her, was Brax’s youngest grandchild and like everyone in the family, beside her own kids and grandchildren, just called her Aunt Patience.

River’s smile faltered a bit and she sighed. “I sure hope so, but then remember what I told you my dear. My spouses do tend to forget that they have a time senses. Ana giggled and wiggled out of River’s grip to run over to the other children of the family.

“So it’s time?” Brax’s voice was calm and yet River could hear the slight excitement in it. He might not like to admit it, but he sure as hell was excited to see his little brother again.

“Mhm…” River muttered. It wasn’t the first time they stood here together. Next to the barn River had turned into a house for herself and her family. Looking at the desert for the whole night waiting for the sound of brakes and a blue police box. River sighed and leaned back against her brother-in-law. They had come a long way until here. Casual touched off affection. Nights curled up together in the hope of finding comfort. His spouse had died in the time war and River, who had been already alone for so many years at that point, had offered him the comfort of understanding. Their family hadn’t said a word about the closeness between them.

Understanding after all, everyone had lost someone. No matter how much research River had done. No matter how long she had talked to the high council. She hadn’t managed to save everyone.

It was one of the perks of being an archeologist with a focus on the Time War and more importantly Gallifrey. River, who was a child of the TARDIS and connected to every single TARDIS in Time and Space, had made the impossible possible and found a safe place for the children to hide. For everyone who wasn’t equipped to fight,she had found a hide out. She had saved billions of people by finding the cave system beneath the desert and hiding her people in there. And yet there had been so many lives lost. No matter how much regeneration energy was filling the air.

“Two-hundred and twenty-four years after the move.” River muttered. “That was mothers message that day. Meet me at sunset 240 years later.” River sighed and relaxed even furthering to Brax, when his arms came around to embrace her. “24 it’s…him. Only he would use that number. Only he knows the meaning of it, especially combined with the sunset.”

Brax hummed and then called out for the children to stop it. River smiled. In the beginning she hadn’t told anyone about the message she had gotten from the TARDISes when Gallifrey had been quantum locked. It was too personal and at the same time she had given up hope of seeing them again. But then just about a hundred years after the move as everyone called it, her husband had come. Her husband with the eyebrows. Furry burning in his eyes. Challenging Rassilon and eventually, banning him from their planet. River had watched all of it, from the shadows smiling. She had told the old man that he shouldn’t challenge her husband and shouldn't use his friends as pawns, but of course she was only a halfling. Not a full Gallifreyan no matter how many lives she had saved. River had watched her husband and led him through the Cluster, after all that was her territory. Nobody knew the cluster better than her. She had lived in it for centuries after all. Hidden away by Cal, until the voice had freed her.

Only after her husband had fled with another stolen TARDIS had River found it in herself to hope. Hoped to see her spouses again. After all he already had done it once, why wouldn’t he do it again? So River had waited for the 240th year to arrive and then spent every day next to her home staring at the dessert. Waiting night after night for them to arrive.

After a few weeks Brax had started to stand next to her and after she had told him what she was waiting for. Who she was waiting for, the rest of the family had started to stand with them. Rivers children first. Her two brilliant daughters, although one of them was a boy now. Then her grandchildren. Susan, who almost bounced with excitement over the thought of seeing her grandfather again. Hope next and then Melody. Melody, who never had met her Grandfather, even though he left long after the Doctor and Susan. The rest of her grandchildren, nieces and nephews soon started to play around them in the sand filling the silence with laughter and happiness. It was so much better this way. No heavy silence and sadness, that had been with her in the nights she had stood here alone.

“Stop worrying.” Brax muttered and then shouted for his grandson to stop harassing his cousins. River giggled and shot him a look.

“He’s becoming more and more like Koschei.” She teased and her brother shot her a look.

“Don’t you dare bring that up. It’s worse enough that Tony somehow managed to be nothing like his father, but Melody is the worst kind of mix of you and Koschei.” River only grinned. Oh yes her granddaughter was a whirlwind of mischief and trouble and she was way too clever for everyone's nerves.

“He will be so damn proud of her.” River muttered and looked away from the gangle of children to look back at the blood red sky.

“They will come soon.” Brax promised, but there was doubt in his voice. River understood, Brax hadn’t seen the way the Doctor had fought no matter the odds. River had seen him try and find a solution for her ending for years. Cal was connected to the internet and so was the TARDIS. She had spent centuries watching her husband brood over plans. Had seen them all fail and yet he never stopped.

“They will.” She said and it sounded so much more believable from her.

“Mother?” Rory came up the hill with a smile on her face. “The council just failed again to change the protocols.” Her daughter said once she was close enough and River started laughing. Brax too was smiling and Rory beamed with them.

“Did you take a picture of their faces?” River asked, still giggling and Rory nodded.

“Of course mothers, who do you think I am?” River brushed through the brown curls her daughter had in this regeneration. Rory looked so much like her fathers fourth regeneration this time around. Unlike Tony who was a perfect replica of his fathers first face down to the stupid goaty.

“Grandmother?” Susan came up to them now too. “I’m taking the children into the house.” She said quietly holding her little sister, Jane, in her arms. The four years old was peacefully sleeping against Susans shoulder. River nodded.

“Do that Susan.” She said and gently brushed a smudge of dirt from her grandchild's face. “Use the large living room and set it up so everyone can sleep there.” Hope, who had come up behind her sister, smiled brightly.

“Can we build a blanket fort again?” She asked and River nodded, winking st them.

“Of course. Your uncle and I will stay a bit longer.” Rory went back with her daughters to help bring all the children inside and River watched the large group disappear into the house.

#riverdoctorpromptweek #River Song #doctor who #fluff #sunset #Happily ever after #missy doctor who #river x thirteen #thirteenth doctor #just me indulging in my OT3

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summerstardust · 4 years

Note

the master just can't get over the idea of the reader actually being in love with him and he's scared he's gonna hurt her x dh if possible but to be honest with ya, I'll take any master or any sacha character x THANK YOU XX

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry that it took longer than expected. I hope you enjoy this! 💜

Kidnapping Dates

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: The reader is The Doctor’s companion, but The Master keeps kidnapping the reader in order to get close to them.

Warnings: nothing that I know of(feel free to correct me)

Word Count: 4797

The Master stalked the cold, rainy streets of New London on New Earth. He was there to gain more information about The Doctor for his next scheme, or, at least, that’s what he told himself. Because every time The Doctor was in view, instead of analyzing her every move for weakness, he was trying to secretly look past her and her other companions to get even the tiniest glimpse of you. You and The Doctor’s fam were walking in the middle of the town’s main street with The Doctor leading the herd. The Master was finding it difficult to continue to follow you and the conversation while hiding behind ventures and their carts, trying to lure in tourists. He was certain that he looked insane, tarnishing his ego, but he hadn’t seen you properly yet. He hadn’t seen you in so long and just had to see you. You were cocooned within the herd of companions, as if they knew that you were the favored prey. They had adapted into doing that, keeping you hidden, you were always that target of The Master’s kidnappings, so they always kept you protected and in eyesight. Except for The Doctor who seemed more inclined to show off than to express overt worry. You always blamed her social awkwardness. Nevertheless, The Doctor continued her tour speech of the area.

“Actually, believe it or not, this is the fifteenth Earth since the original. So we are actually walking on the New New New -” The Doctor continued to rattle off a string of ‘new’s until her point was reached. The Master scoffed at her ridiculousness, how she was always like this, trying to impress Humans with nonsense. He grew even more aggravated when he finally saw your face and how amazed you looked, with bright and shiny eyes filled with wonder. He couldn’t wait for the opportunity to finally get you alone, so he could kidnap you. He ventured to think that maybe one day he could make your eyes shine like that because of something he showed you, but he quickly abandoned that thought, ignoring its meanings and returned to focusing on the task at hand.

The form of the fam loosened slightly. You were still in the middle of their protective circle, but the form was stretched out between two vendor carts. You were still too well guarded for The Master could make a move. But as he planned, an eruption of screams was heard from down the street, coming closer and closer to The Doctor, her fam and you. The Master had enlisted the help of an emerging villain who was recently wronged by The Doctor to interrupt this adventure. He trained them in ferociousness in turn for the monster to not hurt you. He made that caveat very clear.

The monster, a disgusting beast with long sharp teeth, and even longer sharper nails, ripped through the crowd of people, wounding the ones not fast enough to get away. The Doctor now turned protective, keeping you and the fam behind her outstretched arms. She explained the monsters' race, and how they were usually peaceful, despite their deadly appearance, but you barely followed her ramble, too overcome with the shock of your ruined outing. She vocalized her confusion of this monster’s out of character behavior. This caused the monster to lunge forward, swiping at The Doctor. He screamed a jagged cry before speaking of how The Doctor, in an act of self heroism against the Daleks, caused the death of his family by giving a self aggrandizing speech pleasing for peace instead of actually acting to solve the disaster that was occurring before her. After explaining his story, the monster lunged again. The Doctor yelled for you and the fam to return to the TARDIS, and after some arguing, you eventually agreed.

It should have been simple, finding the TARDIS, but with the fearful crowd running each and every way, the task was suddenly harder than before. When you and the fam started out your return trip, you had your hands clasped tightly around Yaz’s and Ryan’s hands respectfully. They dragged you through the crowds and you were quite thankful. The crowds seemed to double in both number and fear, it reminded you of when The Doctor took you to the running of the bulls in Spain. One side of the crowd surged, curving into an alleyway, and dragging Yaz away from you. Your hands were roughly ripped apart. Graham, who was also dragged with that moving crowd, cried out for Ryan to keep you safe and to stay together while he went to search for Yaz. Neither you nor Ryan remembered where the TARDIS was located, the crowds and screaming and running made it even more impossible to recognize any possible indicators that the two of you were headed in the right direction. Another wave of scared people serged, dragging you away from Ryan, brutally ripping your hands apart. You both screamed to each other and screamed at the crowds to stop, but it didn't help. You continued to be pulled into the moving currents of the ever shifting crowds.

Eventually they died out, leaving you in a dark alleyway, too dark for the day time. You crept around anxiously, you had no idea if The Doctor had stopped the monster, it could have been anywhere. You still tried to look for the TARDIS, even though you didn’t believe that The Doctor would park her anywhere near a dark and dingy ally like this one. The sound of a glass bottle skirting over cobbled streets distracted you from your search, causing you to turn around and see where the noise came from. You thought it could be the monster. As soon as you did this, you regretted it. You felt a syringe plunge into your neck. The effects were practically instantaneous, making you so weak that your knees gave out and your vision became fuzzy. Someone caught you, even in your daze, you could tell that they were strong, as they picked you up bridal style and carried you with perfect ease. Your head hung limp over your capture’s arm and before your eyes finally closed due to heaviness, you saw the shadow of the individual carrying you. They were shorter and wearing a long coat and cuffed pants. If your hunch was correct, you knew exactly who was kidnapping you, giving you some semblance of relief that it wasn't some random person doing this.

It took you a while to actually come to, but in your anesthetized sleep you had wonderful dreams. You didn’t know if that was just a side effect of the anesthetic, but they were welcomed and calming, given the circumstances. You first felt how ridged your body was, it was clear that he tied you up, he tended to do that, so you weren't surprised, but that didn’t subtract from the fact that the combination of the sedative and rope ties made you incredibly sore. You groaned when you moved your neck from its hanging position, despite not wanting to encourage your kidnapper’s behavior. When you opened your eyes, you saw him crouched at eye level before you, with gleaming brown eyes and a wide smile. He seemed genuinely happy, he always did when he kidnapped you.

The Master kept doing this. You’ve asked on many occasions why he felt the need to kidnap you. If he kidnapped you as a part of his latest plan to “destroy The Doctor”, you could understand his motivations, but he kidnapped you, seemingly, for fun. The two of you shared banter and jokes, more than you did with The Doctor, if you were being honest. When he first kidnapped you, you were understandably angry and uncomfortable and scared. You were not present when the fam met O or when they went to Gallifrey and fought the Lone Cyberman, but from what the fam and The Doctor described, The Master was one to be feared. Which only caused confusion when he offered you tea and biscuits and even a spare room, if you promised not to get in trouble, as his torment, then, for his best enemy lasted longer than he imagined. That was many kidnappings ago, and you had taken him up on the offers of tea, biscuits, and a spare bedroom on many occasions. But with each new kidnapping, you were never able to get to the bottom of why he acted this way to you. You had your assumptions, sure, but you wanted to hear his reason.

“So why are you kidnapping me this time?” Disgruntled and tired from the sedative and the rope that wasn’t too tight around you, but still uncomfortable.

“Why else would I kidnap one of The Doctor’s little pets? To torment her senselessly! It’s quite fun!” He leaned forward excitedly, almost bumping your nose. He always spoke very close to people’s faces, you thought that he thought that this act would make him more intimidating. It might have worked at first, but you were too used to it by now.

“I’m not her pet!” You growled at him, invading his space, as much as you could given the ropes tying you to the chair. You were more upset that he used a rougher rope this time than his comment. You were comfortable enough with yourself to not give into The Master’s teasing.

“Oh, really now?” The Master moved back and eventually stood before you, making you look up to him. Sometimes you hated his childish dependence on power dynamics, you were frankly too tired, with the remains of the sedative still in your system, to care about dynamics. You wanted a comfortable bed and rest, not rough ropes digging into your wrists and sides and ankles and The Master’s fragile ego.

“Yes.”

“Prove it.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. You see, I have these ropes restraining my movements, so I won’t be able to punch you in the face. As you know, she abhors violence. I don’t think that the others would want to disobey her, but I don’t really have that much of a problem with rebelling against The Doctor’s quote unquote wisdom”

“So you’ll kill. Was not expecting that! Maybe The Doctor only keeps you around to change you, like how she constantly tries to disrupt my life and change me.”

“I never said I would kill. I’m not like you, so don’t compare me to you. And I’m not like The Doctor, or the fam, or any of her other companions, either, so don’t compare me to them. I’m me and I just won’t hesitate to protect myself when threatened.” The Master pretended to have not liked what he heard you say, but, quite the contrary, what you had said was an example of the reason why he liked you. You weren’t like him. You weren’t like The Doctor. You weren’t like the other humans that hopelessly followed The Doctor like lost puppies. You were something new.

You had a fire of independence and a passion for justice that exceeded The Doctor’s. Where she had to try to be kind or nice, reminding herself with catchphrases and mantras, you never did. The Doctor often failed to register the fine line between justice and cruelty, you never did. Maybe that is why she, truely, kept you around, and why The Master really wanted you beside him. Keeping him from going to extremes like when he destroyed Gallifrey. The Master liked trouble, but he was growing a bit tired of constantly running away from all of the problems he caused with no sense of peace. Perhaps you could have been his peace, but he knew that the damage was done and he had inflicted too much pain to be deserving of any peace. If he kept kidnapping you, he could still keep you safe and in his life, even if it wasn’t to the extent he desired.

The Master turned, leaving your comment hanging in the air, and went to inspect something on his TARDIS monitor and leaving you with your thoughts. You weren’t exactly positive that you could hurt anyone, and you were afraid that he knew that. You wanted to protect people, protect peace and innocence. But you tried to think back to when you were left to fend for yourself in a dangerous situation, and you couldn’t locate a single memory. The Master had always been there, kidnapping you away from danger. You were thankful for that, you were quite privileged compared to The Doctor’s other companions who had to deal with fear and adrenaline and wounds and attacks and loss. You were always safe in The Master’s TARDIS with plenty of foods and blankets and warm drinks.

When you really thought about it, you understood how much he did for you. He clearly cared about you even though he would profusely deny it, and you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. If he was villainous, he wasn’t villainous to you. You saw how he possessed an aura of sadness like The Doctor’s, they were both so lonely, but The Doctor had companions. You wondered who The Master had, then you realized that he only had his TARDIS and you, if you counted the kidnappings, which you assumed that he did. When he thought you weren’t looking, you saw the sadness that pooled in his eyes and the soft touches he would give when controlling the console, almost apologetic for his outbursts. You saw how he was willing to be more vulnerable to you, at least by his standards of vulnerability.

After a long silence, briefly interrupted by TARDIS beeps and wheezing and The Master’s grumbles and mumbles about whatever was on his console monitor, you spoke up again.“Really, what goes on in that dumb head of yours?”

“I am not dumb.” He grumbled, trying to fix something on his console monitor, whatever was on was really troubling him. You would have asked him, but you preferred to taunt him.

“Yes, you are!” You spoke in a sing-songy voice, knowing that it would aggravate even more. It worked, he finally turned back toward you.

“How, pray tell, and I dumb?” He crossed his arms in front of himself, leaning against the console. You preferred having his attention on you.

“Because, if you wanted to go out on a date with me, this badly, you could have just asked.” His mouth fell open slightly. He knew that you were smart and observant, but he thought that he was being discrete. He quickly regained composure, smirking cheekily, trying to ignore his growing vulnerability and to take back the power of the situation. But you just stared right back, not giving into the power of his eyes. You swore that he was trying to hypnotise you into submission, to make you forget your allegation, but you fought back every time he poked your mind.

He continued to stare at you, slightly uncomfortable that you kept standing up against him instead of quivering and flustering before him, but he knew that if you did that, he wouldn’t like you as much as he did. His eyes bored into yours, trying to intimidate you, intensifying his gaze and his hypnotism, but you refused to back down and submit. You saw his eyes grow slightly warmer before he quickly turned back toward the TARDIS, his shoulders tensed. He gripped his console, eyeing the monitor. He spoke again, after a strained silence, still agitated.

“I’m growing tired of you. You will find that ridiculous blue box just around the street corner.” The Master flicked a few switches, causing the ropes that held you to drop and at the snap of his fingers, the TARDIS doors opened instantaneously. “Now run along to The Doctor before I decide to keep you locked in here forever.” You slowly got up and walked to the doors, still stiff. Before you exited The Master’s ship, you turned to get one last glimpse of the strange Timelord.

“You know, if you were to, hypothetically, ask me out on a date… I wouldn’t say no.” You leaned against the TARDIS, and she gave a reassuring hum above you. You weren’t quite sure if it was because of your comment or the sudden physical act.

“Why?” He was questioning and hopeful, with an aura of playfulness in his tone.

You shrugged in a way to indicate subtleness, but only to disguise your intense feelings for the man before you, “I don’t know. You don’t seem as bad as the others say you are. At least, not to me.”

“As you pointed out, I kidnap you constantly.” He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence and naivety. He could not understand how you could still see him as someone decent, despite his evil acts.

“Yeah, but it’s always a part of a scheme to kill The Doctor and her fam, while I am safe and tucked away in your ship away from danger, or it’s right before The Doctor is about to get us into a dangerous situation, when I’m stolen away by you. I would put money on the fact the right after you took me, a monster attacked the fam, and you kept looking at the monitor to check and see whether or not the threat was gone.” The Master didn’t say anything, only smiled bittersweetly at you, after you smiled and waved him a goodbye. The Master snapped his fingers again, closing the doors when you fully exited his TARDIS, mumbling a soft “Until we meet again, Y/N.”

The Master watched you leave on the console monitor, when you returned to The Doctor, he flew off to drift amongst the stars in order to plan for his next kidnapping of you. But when coordinates randomly appeared on the data screen of the console, he grew distracted from his task. He thought that maybe he deserved a break from torturing himself by dangling something he could never have before him, maybe he deserved a little trouble at the moment. The Master, strangely, did not know the place, but the message was sent from an old partner in a small overthrow of a corrupt dictator. The partner had thanked The Master profusely, but he was only in it for the money and to see the dictator, who angered The Master at a banquet, finally and horrifically murdered.

The Master freshened up a bit and followed the coordinates to the meeting place. He strolled out of his TARDIS, confident and excited for a new evil scheme. However, The Master’s face fell in disappointment when he saw The Doctor leaning against her blue box. The Master grumbled and rolled his eyes, quickly turning back to his ship. He was not in the mood for another lecture from The Doctor, he had experienced too many of them in his life.

“Why do you keep kidnapping Y/N?” The Doctor’s voice caused The Master to halt. Even though he wanted to just fly away and leave The Doctor questioning his actions, he couldn’t resist talking about you, but he couldn't allow his best enemy to know. He marched up to The Doctor, trying to be threatening.

“Because seeing the look of fear in your eyes, Doctor, brings joy to my very dark life.” The Master turned to leave, again, even more annoyed with The Doctor’s interference.

“Are you sure that it's my pain bringing you joy? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like Y/N is the one sparking joy in your dark life.” The Master froze in shock. He thought that there was no way for The Doctor to know his true feelings for you. He assumed that The Doctor was too dim catch on to is, admittedly, uncharacteristic behavior. He knew that you would never tell her of the feeling you, correctly, presumed he had for you. He knew that you found the banter quite fun and that you enjoyed his company, as he did for you. If you didn’t, you would be kicking and screaming during every encounter, but the two of you were always polite.

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Doctor. I think your mind is growing emotional due to extended time around Humans. Have your pets been making you watch rom-coms?”

“Oh, just admit it, Master. You like Y/N. I know for a fact that they like you, too.” The Master turned around again, he did not want The Doctor to see his pleased face, but his happiness faded when he realized that the two of you could never be together. For so many reasons it was impossible. He thought that it was simpler to break your heart now then to wait for one of his enemies to kill you or you to die of old age while he remains young.

“Don’t you understand?! Oh! What am I saying?! Of course you don’t understand!” His rage took over him as he turned back to The Doctor.

“Understand what?” The Master just wished his best enemy would drop the subject.

“Y/N can never live with me on my TARDIS, can never be my companion, and can never love me! It’s a big enough risk for me to love them! All of the damage I caused, all of the people I’ve killed whose families want revenge, all of the people who want to see me dead, they will go after Y/N, they will hurt and kill them, just to get to me. I can never allow that. You take so many risks with your pets, Doctor, but I refuse to put Y/N in that much danger. So I will remain their strange protector, keeping them away from the danger you threaten to put them through” The Master gave up trying to explain his position to The Doctor, massaging his brow with his hand.

Throughout this discourse the two Timelords had, they had moved and circled each other. The Doctor had allowed you to listen in on the entire conversation via the TARDIS’s listening devices, and instructed you to exit her ship when she indicated. After The Master had made his declaration of love you wanted to exit then and run to him, but stopped at the doors, watching the scene briefly. You thought that The Master was going to attempt to explain himself further, but but stopped himself multiple times, he suddenly surged back towards his TARDIS. This time he was fully intent on leaving and never coming back. You rushed out of the doors, the TARDIS making no attempt to stop you, as you ran to The Master and wrapped your arms around his torso, you could feel him tense in your arms. You couldn’t see his face, but you assumed that he was regretting following the coordinates. He eventually relaxed, but softly placed his hands on your arms and pushed them away from his body.

“I can’t. I can’t do this to you.” He refused to face you, still walking determinedly to his TARDIS, “I would be allowing you to sign your own death certificate. I can’t let you kill yourself for me. I’m selfish, but I refuse to let the only light of my life perish because of my wants.” You grabbed his hand forcefully, stopping him from moving. You tried to turn him around to face you, but he stood as still as a statue. You elected to move to his side, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your hands were still clasped tightly around his one. You wanted to make this conversation as private as you possibly could, you could see The Master’s agitation and uncomfortableness at being so vulnerable.

“I want this. I want you, Master.” He finally looked at you, his eyes big and round and sad, tears were threatening to spill out.

“I can’t. I can’t. I would be killing you. I would corrupt you. My selfishness will bring your end before it was ever supposed to happen, all because I want someone to love me.” He continued to mutter self deprecating comments about how this was impossible. You hated seeing him like this. You understood that he had thousands of years of past trauma and he should have the opportunity to be open, but in this situation, when you knew that you could ease his pain and he refused to listen to you, all you wanted was to slap his self depreciation out of him.

You abruptly tore your hands from his and cupped his face, planting a soft kiss to his lips. You moved to pull away, as you had an important statement to make to The Master, but he placed a firm hand on the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You ventured to think how awkward The Doctor must be feeling at this sight. The Master must have been able to see into your mind, because as soon as you thought of The Doctor, he increased his attack on your lips. The two of you parted when you needed to catch your breath. You rested your forehead against his as he cupped your face, occasionally running his hands through your hair affectionately.

“Master, I know that you believe that you are doing your best to protect me now, but from my perspective, I know that you would never have gotten involved with me if you had any doubt about whether or not we would make it out together. I know that you protect me, as you have before. I know that you will care for me. And I know that you will find a way to combate my human biology and lifespan. I believe in you. I believe that you love me. Now you just need to believe me and believe in my love for you.” You tried to look him in the eye, but he skirted your gaze, electing to close his eyes in an act to engrave your words into his memory. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug suddenly, one arm pulling your torso tight against his, the other wrapped around the back of your neck. Your nose rested between the collar of his purple coat and his neck, and you breathed in his scent of warm smoke and cold mint, a juxtaposition that was very him. You didn’t know if this was the last moment you would ever see him this intimately or ever again and you wanted to remember every nuance you were allowed the privilege of knowing.

The Master thought long and hard about his possible relationship to you. He wondered if it was worth it, given that you were Human and he was a Timelord, but you were keen to The Master’s ways. As soon as he saw you, he began drawing up possible plans of extending your life. He had been so wrapped up in his mind about all of the futures the two of you could live, and now he had the opportunity to live out some of those futures. I believed you. He believed your love. Despite how shocked he was about his feelings for you and yours for him, from this moment forward he refused to be without your love and support. He eventually pulled back, still holding you. You couldn’t read his face and grew even more fearful that you would never see him again.

“Please don’t leave me, Master.” You tried to hold in tighter, to plead for your futures, but The Master pulled your hands away from his body to hold them in his hands.

“As long as you don’t leave me, Y/N.” The Master broke into a genuinely happy smile when he saw the relief that spread across your face. You hugged him again, and he picked you up and spun you around a couple of times. The both of you giggled excitedly.

“I guess it's a good thing I made you pack before this then.” The Doctor spoke up when you and The Master separated. Both of you had forgotten that The Doctor was there watching your confessions of love.

The Doctor was fully supportive of your budding relationship with The Master. She helped the two of you move your suitcases and boxes of souvenirs into The Master’s TARDIS and gave you an emotional goodbye, along with a goodbye to the fam, and a promise to call and text frequently. Once settled and happy in your new home, all you could do was smile until it hurt and hug The Master, too excited about the future and your love for the Timelord to fully comprehend the risks of your new relationship. But at this moment of bliss, the risks were worth it.

#dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #sacha dhawan #the master x reader #the master imagine #personal post #fanfiction #request #anon

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colderthancoldest · 3 years

Text

Return Home To You

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: Last you heard from the Master, he was on his way to propose an alliance with some of the galaxy's worst criminals. When he finally returns, it's clear the meeting didn't go as planned.

Reader comforts the Master basically, fluff piece, loosely inspired by Hozier’s ‘Work Song’

Inspired by: This post by @flybi91

Warnings: Injuries, blood, ect

Word Count: About 2.2k

---

You've been worried about the Master for some time now. Last you saw him, he had been on his way to meet a very dangerous man about the possibility of a high-stakes alliance. He had dropped you off at your apartment to return to your normal life, citing that it was a better way you spent your time. However, you suspected he was secretly trying to keep you safe in case things went sideways.

You had begged him to be careful around such powerful and violent figures, but he had reassured you- the way he always does- that he knows what he's doing.

He promised you everything would be perfectly alright and he would return as soon as the deal was sealed.

That was 2 weeks ago.

'He has a time machine,' you tell yourself, 'he easily could have gotten the date wrong with a press of a button.'

'He could return any second and maybe only a few hours have passed for him,' you lie to yourself.

Normally, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to consider the possibility of a time machine missing it's mark by a few weeks- however you know him.

You know the Master, absolutely and completely. As he so often makes a point of, "You probably know me better than anyone ever has."

He would never leave you for this long without telling you. And more than than, he'd promised to return once his meeting was over. What could possibly be keeping him?

You try to distract yourself with anything you can think of just to starve off the sick feeling such worries bring, but they grow stronger every day. There's a nauseating, gnawing at your gut that perhaps something has happened to him and he's too hurt to make good on his promise.

You trust him, but the Master is only one man. There are some things beyond even his control.

You've been thinking about it all evening when you realize it's been three full weeks since you last saw him. You don't even care what's happened anymore, you just hope more than anything that he's not lying dead in a ditch on a planet you could never hope to reach alone.

It's a beautiful fall evening when you finally hear the familiar, rhythmic noise of the Tardis engines.

You convinced the Tardis to translate her manual once- you and his telepathic craft have a certain bond in that way- and diagnosed the wheezing sound as a simple issue of unoiled breaks.

The Master, without a doubt the most stubborn person you've ever met, refused to let you fix the problem- but the way he had looked at you that day still lingers in your mind as if it was yesterday.

You would give anything for him to look at you like that again. With so much love and intrigue and something almost impressed in those gorgeous deep eyes of his. More than anything, you need to see those perfect eyes once more and know that he's alright.

At the sound of the Tardis, you seek out the noise as quickly as you're able. You're almost happy he refused to change the noise because if he had, you may not have recognized it.

You find the familiar craft settled in an ally just around the corner. As you hurry over the walkway littered in colorful autumn leaves, you get the terrible feeling that the Tardis seems relieved to be found by you. You've had this feeling before- once when the Master had gotten into a particularly bad bar fight and the Tardis had returned his unconscious body to you- but it's stronger this time, and that terrifies you.

"What is it?" you breathe once she's in your sights. You're a little out of breath from tracking down the Tardis but you're not about to let that slow you down. The Tardis only swings open her doors for you.

You barely make it inside when your body freezes involuntarily and you stop. There's blood on the floor, a trail like a leaking container of milk through a grocery store. You can see the pattern of exactly where the Master had walked and for how long he stood there by the size of the tiny pools laid out before you.

As you enter, the Master's back is to you. Both of his hands are clutching tight to the controls of his ship and you immediately recognize that something's wrong from the way he has himself braced.

Just as quickly as you had stopped, you run to him.

"Are you alright? I mean, obviously not but- Tell me how to help," you quickly ask the Master, your words tumbling out nervously.

He refuses to look at you.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," he breathes as a small string of blood escapes his lips.

He stands there like he's okay, but you know for certain that he's not. If he was, he would have spun around in that theatrical way he likes to and flash you a bright, award-winning smile. Instead he only stands there with his hands gripping tight to the stand like he can barely do just that.

"She brought me here anyways," the Master considers quietly, clearly referring to the Tardis.

He doesn't sound like he's fully there as he gives you a small laugh, barely a little huff of amusement, and his grip falters for a second.

His hands were coated in blood, far too much for you to know where or who it had come from. All you know is that it's a bad sign.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Let me help you," you offer.

No response.

"Tell me how to help you," you then add more firmly when it appears he didn't quite hear you.

The sharpness in your tone gets his attention.

"I'm sorry," he says. His voice crackles and he finally turns to look at you.

The side of his face is bruised terribly. His lips are bleeding profusely from numerous cuts against his teeth. His left side is bleeding, he shifts all his weight to one leg so it doesn't seem too obvious that the other is injured. There's blood smeared down nearly every square inch of his clothes and you're not sure what's worse- if it's his or someone else's.

You take his face gently in your hands and allow his soft skin and sharp beard to mix sensations beneath your fingertips.

"Look at me," you ask.

He can barely get his eyes to stay on you. They keep focusing in and out of reality and you're half certain he's going to pass out when he finally locks those eyes on you.

All at once, you know you can fix this because there he is again. At the end of the day, all he is is another living soul and, no matter what happens, he'll always return home to you.

"You're going to be okay," you promise softly, "Don't worry about explaining right now. Just tell me how to help."

He breathes something weak, perhaps a sigh of relief, and nods.

"There's a medbay," his mouth and voice crackle from the tears slowly filling his eyes and the blood threatening to fill his throat.

"The Tardis can show you the extent of my injuries and help to patch me up," the Master says before forcing himself to take a deep breath.

"Alright," you agree as you pull one of the Master's arms over your shoulders and wrap your own arm around his side to guide him.

One of his legs is clearly badly injured, but he doesn't do much more than wince as you help him down one of the concealed halls. Thankfully, the Tardis understands the Master's situation and not only moves the room closer, but also opens all the doors for you.

The Master is relieved when his body finally falls into a small, hospital-like bed in the aforementioned medbay. He gives a low groan at the effort it takes, but he seems much happier once he can rest.

The Tardis performs a scan and begins her own work patching up the worst of the Master's wounds with a small claw-like arm. It cuts away a small gap in the torn fabric, cleans the wound, and then goes to work with some futuristic stitches.

Medicine was never your procession, so you do what you can by getting a damp cloth to wipe off some of the blood. If it's his, then you have to make sure he isn't bleeding anywhere else.

Usually the Master is all jokes and gallows humor, but he barely seems able to stay conscious. The fact that he's still trying to stay awake worries you. You wonder what he thinks will happen if he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," he tries again. "This isn't your job but I-"

He stops and weakly turns his head away from you, trying to hide the more damaged side of his face.

"Have nowhere else to go?" you ask softly.

He closes his eyes and tries to hide his expression, but you know that's what he meant.

You push the barrier down on the side of the bed and lean down to reach him. You wrap one arm around his back and move the over to hold the back of his head as you hug him.

His arms immediately reach up to hold you in return. You can practically feel the tremor in his hands as his arms tighten around you.

"I was scared I would regenerate," he confesses softly into your shoulder. He was getting blood everywhere, but it was a small price to pay to comfort him.

The Master's arms tightened and despite the way his muscles shook and strained to keep a hold of you, he refuses to let go for a minute more.

"I was scared I wouldn't see you again. This me anyways. And what if I came back as someone else? What if you... didn't feel the same way about them?"

You lean closer into him so he doesn't have to strain as much. You run your fingers through his hair and do your best to sooth him as the Tardis does her best to patch the deep tear in his side. Slowly and gradually, you know it's working by the way his fingers gently loosen on the fistfuls of your clothes.

"We would have figured it out," you promise him, "But with that said, please try not to die."

He laughs a little at that and it's enough to let you know that he'll be alright if he can pull through the worst of this.

Eventually, when he's stable and calm enough, you settle him to lay down and he lets you pull away. You catch a glimpse of gold flicker across the top of his hand, now clean from blood, and just as quickly disappear. The Master looks like he's perfectly content pretending he didn't catch you notice how bad a condition he's in- and yet you can't help but smile.

"You always have been the most stubborn person I've ever met," you chuckle a little.

"Ever the survivor, me," he replies quietly with a smirk.

You look him over once more. He's even more exhausted than before now that the fear and adrenaline have worn off. The Tardis has given him some medicine to counter what you know must be agony. Still, he's in pain, and you can't help but wonder how often he goes through it alone.

"You can always come back to me, you know," you assure him as you pull up a chair and lean down to his level.

He turns to look at you, his deep eyes so loving and gentle as they look over you. You can see that he believes you, and it's enough to bring tears to the edges of his vision.

"No matter what," you promise firmly.

The Master swallows back his tears and blood.

"You'll stay?" he asks softly, almost in disbelief, "You won't get scared and leave?"

You smile, a deep and sad smile, because he should really know this by now. He should know that you're loyal to a fault, just as he is.

It's a tight fit, but you climb into the bed next to him and settle yourself against his less-wounded side. You retrieve an ice pack from the table next to you and offer it to the Master for the damaged side of his face. He holds it to his bruises as you hold him and watch for his breathing as the Tardis's scan confirms he's healing properly.

"You're lucky," you tell him with your head on his shoulder. You're covered in blood by this point too, but it doesn't really matter.

"You're stable for now," you explain. "Once I can move you without aggravating your wounds we'll get you properly cleaned up," you assure him.

The Master hums in agreement as he begins to drift off. Now that he knows he's in safe hands and that he won't be regenerating anytime soon- not to mention the medication that's finally kicked in- he finally appears to be okay with letting go of the conscious world.

"Yes," he agrees quietly with one arm settled around you and his other hands in yours, "I suppose I am quite lucky."

#i don't usually write in this style #but i liked the prompt #this was a fun change of pace #i hope it's alright #please tell me what you think <3 #dhawan!master #dhawan master #doctor who #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #doctor who fic

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gloynporslen · 3 years

Text

Agony Aunt

An alternate timeline from the @smalltowndetective and @gloynporslen ‘Trexler & Kingston’-verse

Pairing: m!detective (Adrien Kingston) X m!F (Felix Hauville)

Note: This is the inaugural part of a 'what if-' exploration about a potential outcome should Adrien and Felix continue flirting as they have been without getting together in Hayley's. (The working title for this was PoorFelix.txt, take from that what you will.)

Tagging (Never an issue to add or remove 💕): @lilyoffandoms @sosolenoo @pearlsandsteel @oxjenayxo

Word Count: ~1,700

Part 1 (here) / Part 2

~~~*~~~*~~~

Natasha’s eyes kept darting to the clock. She was well aware of the seconds turning to minutes, and even more so aware that with every passing tick she and Adrien were losing valuable travel time. Being aware of this did not, however, make her move any faster in collecting her stuff to prepare to leave.

“Look,” Adrien suddenly breaks the silence, “we both know neither of us want to go to this meeting.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the dry statement of the obvious, attempting to figure out where he was heading.

“What are you suggesting?” she asked, suspicion dripping from the question.

“Well given that only one of us actually needs to go… I’m suggesting,” he drawled, picking up the coin that sat atop his desk, “that we flip a coin for it. Simple heads or tails, Tash.” He explained. “Heads, I win and you go to the meeting. Tails, vice versa.”

She scoffed, but despite the expression of disdain she nodded her agreement to his terms.

~* Continued on Ao3 here (where the formatting is nicer) *~

~* or under the cut *~

With a smirk he flipped the coin, the two of them watching in anticipation for it to fall as time seemed to slow to a crawl. She didn’t need to see the coin itself to know the result - his smug, wide grin told her enough; it was heads.

“Aw, better luck next time, Princess.” She shook her head in exasperation at the false sympathy in his tone. “Guess you’re the one heading to the meeting.”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” she sighed, already collecting her stuff. She may have looked far from pleased but ultimately she’d resigned herself to her loss.

“Just keep me in your thoughts, Tash,” he teased lightly, knowing full well she’d drawn what they both considered to be the metaphorical short straw. “Left behind in this lonely office, all alone with a pile of paperwork.”

“Don’t push it, Kingston,” she warned, though the quirk of her lips - in something akin to a smirk, or what counted for one as far she was concerned - gave away the lack of heat behind reprimand. He simply chuckled mentally drafting his explanation text to Adam as he waved her off, casually flipping the coin just a few more times in his other hand - each time it coming up heads.

~~~*~~~

Ten minutes past the meeting time and Adam was not happy.

Nat was doing her best to keep the peace but he was already worked up over Unit Alpha not showing up earlier - their arrival having been planned for fifteen minutes before the group meeting - never mind the detectives being late also. Receiving the message from Adrien apologising for some unavoidable delay and informing them all that he would have to remain in the office didn’t help matters.

Although Natasha’s eventual arrival is greeted with a smile from Nat, Adam doesn't calm - his agitation turning solely to Unit Alpha and their tardiness now she was there. Natasha takes a seat next to Felix, offering Nat a sympathetic smile as she goes. He hadn't greeted her when she came in, concerning in and of itself, but even still he continued to ignore her presence, far too focused on some kind of magazine he held in his hands.

"Felix?" she tries, calling his name.

"Oh, yeah, hey Natasha."

He dismissively waves her off, his voice far too distant and distracted for her liking. She shoots a questioning look to the dark presence in the corner, an action which quickly has her rolling her eyes and turning back to Felix when Morgan, ever helpful, just shrugs.

"Must be… something interesting you're reading?"

Natasha cringes at her own awkwardness, but the frown she gets from Felix in response has her brow furrowing with concern instead.

"Interesting is one word for it, I guess."

Her gaze turns inquiring, raising an eyebrow at him while ignoring Morgan who is, for once, doing a bad job of pretending that she's not listening in. He sighs, finally meeting her eyes, and she's filled with an instant hate for whatever it is that has dulled their shine.

"It's like… this advice letters thing. These women send in their stories and ask their aunt to help them out, you know?"

She blinks with bemusement.

"I… am aware of what an agony aunt is, yes."

"Right, yeah, of course you are." The laugh he ends on is strained, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, but before she can offer a response he starts to read the words he's been so focused on.

"'Hi Aunt Tallulah, I'm a twenty-nine year old woman who has been seeing this thirty year old guy lately, but I'm not sure I can even call it seeing. We're not dating or exclusive in the slightest, but we flirt a lot - sometimes even in front of our group of friends! Lately though, the flirting has changed. It's been getting a lot more serious, almost intimate, and I really think he has feelings for me, but he just doesn't want us to be together. We've kissed quite a bit, and a lot of the time he treats me like his girlfriend - but he still says he wants to "take it slow". It's been four and a half months now since we started flirting, and I'm starting to worry that maybe he doesn't actually want to be with me as anything more than a casual thing. So, I guess I'm asking; how slow is too slow? Do you think he's actually serious about wanting to be with me?'"

The wobble in his voice with the final question has Natasha shooting a panicked look to the others, searching for some guidance, but all three of them seem to have been stunned into silence, even Morgan looking distinctly unsettled over on her perch. It should be reassuring that they've likely reached the same conclusion she has - that Felix, knowingly or not, is drawing parallels between the girl in the magazine and himself - but it's not, and she has no idea what to do about it. Luckily, Nat seems to take action in her place.

"Felix-" she starts, but he continues talking over her.

"I mean, poor girl right?" Nat winces at the fake laugh he forces out. "It must be… really hard to be in that kind of situation. With all the worrying and the longing and…" he trails off weakly before shaking his head to continue. "And wow, to get this response too!"

"Felix-" Natasha reaches out a hand to him but he shifts away from the touch. Her concerned frown deepening, her furrowed brow sinking further.

Unit Alpha had finally turned up, making their way over to the team with no small amount of confusion at the weird atmosphere that seemed to be settled over the group.

"'Four months is a fair deal of time'," he dictates. "'Long enough, at least, to have figured out if he seriously wants you. If he's continuing to flirt and especially be physically intimate with you, but not offer any commitment, there's likely something more going on - perhaps it's even time to consider what you already seem to be considering; that perhaps he's not as interested in you as you are in him.'" Felix pauses in his reading. "I mean… that's not fair, right?" He swallows harshly before looking around the room for reassurance an answer. "That doesn't mean he's not… Just because they haven't made things official after a few months doesn't mean he doesn't ever want things to be serious and for real, right?"

“I don’t know, kiddo." Tane answers before any of the others can speak up. "Sounds to me like that’s pretty much it.”

“Yeah, we didn't hear the start," Maaka follows, "but if the guy hasn’t committed at that point he’s clearly not as into her as she is to him, you know?”

Tamiko shoots a concerned look to her leader, who returns it while Adam pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply through his nose to keep the frustration down. Morgan and Nat send them both looks of warning, though Nat's is tinged more with worry than the anger found in Morgan's.

The glare Natasha had been brewing since they started talking burns fiercer - demanding they shut up.

They all go ignored.

"Maaka. Tane." Lesedi firmly tries to interrupt, but she also goes ignored.

“Probably just stringing her along for a bit of ‘fun’, if you get the drift.” Tane nudges his brother playfully, waggling his eyebrows suggestively to emphasise his point as they both laugh.

“Oh.”

The one word response was enough to draw them both out of their laughter; the despondency ringing out in the single syllable causing them to notice the sudden angry shift in the room, bringing with it a sudden, horrifying realisation to the two men - Felix and Adrien have been unofficially seeing each other for six months.

“Shit.”

“Look, kiddo, we didn’t mean-”

“That doesn’t mean that’s what’s happening with-”

“It’s okay,” he says, stopping their flustering. “Really.” The pained smile looks out of place on his usually cheerful face, his amber eyes sparkling for once without mirth but instead with thinly restrained tears. “I asked a question and got an answer, right?”

The brothers share a look of concern, but before either of them or anyone else in the room can react, he's gone. Regret weighs heavier on their shoulders than the guilt that begins to stifle them. Adam and Nat share a look, silently discussing the options at hand and their next course of action. It takes barely a second before she offers him a small smile of agreement, walking over to the still-glaring Natasha and placing a hand on her shoulder to draw her attention.

"Perhaps you should go catch up with Felix," she suggests gently. "Make sure he's alright."

Natasha can't hide the surprise at being the one chosen to check up on him, her sharp gaze unintentionally flicking to Adam only to soften at his nod of confirmation. Giving Nat a nod of her own that is far more certain than she feels, she leaves the two teams behind with little more than a furious glare directed at the brothers, hoping that Felix didn't go too far… that he hasn't gone somewhere beyond her reach.

~~~*~~~*~~~

Thank you very much if you’ve made it this far! I hope it wasn’t too much of a chore! Thank you, truly, for your time 💕

~~~*~~~*~~~

#the wayhaven chronicles #into the detective-verse: Kingston and Trexler #adrien kingston #detective natasha trexler #smalltowndetective #porslenwritessometimes #I feel bad about doing this to Felix 😭#It all works out in the end though I promise!#Shout out to Jen for letting me know about the emoji keyboard though haha 💕💕💕

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plethora-of-imagines · 3 years

Text

Tradition

AN: My Secret Santa fic is for the amazing FabulousPotatoSister! I hope you enjoy it! I tried to incorporate something that would be culturally significant (in a small way) and I am so, so sorry if I messed it up!!!

Word Count: 1805

Description: The Doctor wants to celebrate Christmas with you. Christmas may already be passed but it doesn't mean that she can't have a small celebration with you and she has plans to try a tradition.

Secret Santa: @fabulouspotatosister

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

“I know that it technically isn’t Christmas anymore for you, but - well you know- time machine and all.”

The Doctor did a little flourish as she reminded you that she lived in a time machine. As if you would ever forget this fact after having traveled with her throughout time for years. You tried to hide your laughter behind your hand, she was so cute. All eager and attempting to convince you of something you hadn’t even said no to yet.

"I don't know Doctor," you played hard to get, "last time we really celebrated Christmas together you ate mistletoe and got sick..."

For someone who spent so much time around humans, the Doctor managed to misunderstand traditions quite often. The fact that her eleventh body -or so she claimed, with how often she forgot her own age you almost doubted she knew how many bodies she had inhabited- had decided it was a good idea to consume all the mistletoe that you had used to decorate the TARDIS with was a clear sign of her ability to misunderstand tradition. They had gotten horribly sick and you had spent the whole holiday trying to keep the stubborn Time Lord in bed. You had never let him live it down, even when he had regenerated.

"That was two lifetimes ago. And I thought we promised never to mention it again!"

Okay, maybe after a lot of begging you had agreed to let them "live it down".

You held her pouting face in your hands. A silent apology for bringing it up. Thumbs rubbing against her cheeks. You would feel bad about teasing her if it weren’t for the smile on her face the moment you touched her.

"What did you have in mind, Doctor?" You couldn’t help but inquire.

She leaned into the affection you were showing her like a touch-starved cat. Completely ignoring your question in favor of nuzzling into your palms. Eyes closed in bliss.

"Doctor?"

You hoped to catch her attention before you had to resort to drastic measures, like pulling your palms away from her face.

"I've been researching," she murmured. "I have a small idea, nothing big or impressive. We barely need to leave the TARDIS, which reduces the chance of trouble."

"Oh? So unlike your previous two selves, we will actually manage to do this unscathed? No sick from mistletoe boyish Time Lords? Or trouble seeking grumpy Scotsman Scrooges?"

You let yourself be just a bit dramatic about your somewhat sarcastic teasing. After the mistletoe disaster, her next regeneration refused to celebrate the holiday with you. It wouldn’t have been as disappointing as it was if he hadn’t tried to find an alien invasion to stop in order to avoid celebrating with you. It had been almost insulting. Which was why in the following years you had simply gone home for Christmas. The Doctor’s newest regeneration had a reestablished interest in celebrating the holiday with you that you didn’t quite trust yet.

You kissed her nose before finally pulling your hands away from cradling her face, reveling in getting her to scrunch her nose in surprise. She stumbled after you for a moment before she caught herself and rushed around the TARDIS. Maneuvering around the console as she rushed to get you to your destination before you could consider denying her. Not that you would ever deny her.

“I didn’t agree to your plans yet Doctor!”

She ducked her head out around the center column.

“Ah, but you didn’t say no yet either!”

Smiling incredulously, you shook your head, knowing that there would be no stopping her now.

“Can I know what the plan even is? Please, Doctor?”

You made your best puppy dog eyes at her. Doing your best to will her into giving away the plans she likely wanted to keep as a surprise.

“It’s a surprise! Besides, I’m sure that you will recognize what the plan is once we buy what we need for it.”

The TARDIS landed with a soft, teasing chime. The machine herself laughing at your sorry attempt at manipulation. The Doctor gave her a look that practically said, ‘please stop making fun of my human’.

Grabbing a scarf from the hexagon step’s railing, she did an awkward little jog over to you. Throwing the scarf around your head, pulling you in close before wrapping the one end around your neck. The other end had the majority of the excess. The tails were obviously lopsided. In a quick motion, the Doctor wrapped the other end around her own neck. Burying her chin in the fabric, hoping to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks.

“Sharing a scarf... it’s cute.”

You avoided her eyes, starting to feel just as embarrassed as she was. The two of you seemed to be back to the shy teen stage of your relationship after her regeneration this time. Everything seemed softer, every glance and touch full of yearning.

“Well, you can’t wander off and get into trouble if we are attached,” the Doctor eventually found as an excuse for the action that could have been seen as either sweet or clingy.

“More like it’s a kiddy leash so a certain Time Lady can’t run off and get into trouble without me.”

You gently nudged her in the side as you playfully teased her.

“Hey!” She protested in faux outrage. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly capable of dragging you into trouble without the help of my makeshift human danger-magnet leash.”

“Human danger-magnet leash!”

Laughing you almost fell over, bringing the Doctor with you. Luckily you caught yourself in time before you could fall far.

“Shut up!” She was smiling. “Come on, trouble maker let’s go get the shopping done with before some aliens decide to invade the market I’ve chosen.”

Walking out of the TARDIS you almost expected the market to be- well, alien. Instead, it seemed to be a normal human market like the ones you would find back home. However the ordinary setting didn’t disappoint you, it served as reassurance that the small celebration that the Doctor wanted to have with you would actually manage to be peaceful.

Exploring side by side you tried to determine what it was that the Doctor was looking for. If you knew what you were searching for you could help to find it. All of your attempts to ask were met with a smile and gentle reassurance that you were smart and would figure it out. You had your suspicions when the Doctor stopped at a stall lit up with the traditional paper Christmas stars you would see at home during the holidays.

Those suspicions furthered as she gathered up bamboo poles and colored paper. Your excitement grew as she paid for the items. She had actually done some research, she hadn’t just said that to reassure you. As the shopkeeper handed her the bag filled with her purchases she turned to you.

“Back to the TARDIS before trouble can find us?”

You looked at her in adoration,” back to the TARDIS,” you agreed.

**************************

Sitting on the console room floor you helped the Doctor to organize the supplies as she started to nervously ramble.

“I watched a few videos so I should be okay at putting the star frame together for the parols. Is it pronounced parol? I honestly don’t know how to pronounce it, the videos I watched always just had the instructions typed out on the screen while calming music played. Did they pick calming music because putting these together is normally stressful? Or do you think it was just whatever the top royalty-free song happened to be? Either way, I think I can make the parol frames. Please tell me if I’m making a fool of myself and saying that wrong!”

“Your pronunciation is perfect Doctor,” you kissed her cheek to help stop her rambling.

As you continued to organize the paper by color the Doctor started to assemble the frames. Using her sonic as a method by which to secure the poles in place. You had no idea how it was working but you weren’t about to question it. She was making them in a variety of sizes, one was so big you weren't sure that you had enough paper to cover the frame. You thought about telling her that one was too big, but you didn’t want to ruin her fun.

Once the paper was organized you began to cover the completed frames. Starting with the smaller frames that would take up less paper. Gluing the paper onto the frames with care, not wanting to rip any of it. It was delicate work, but it was fun.

The Doctor watched your movements carefully when she was done putting all the frames together, watching with eager childlike interest. Slowly, after you had finished covering a few frames, she began to work on covering a few herself.

Her attempts were a bit childish. Small corners not covered or the paper bunched up in places. But you didn't mind at all. They had character, they spoke of being made by the Doctor.

The companionable silence as you worked ended when it was time to work together on covering the ambitiously large parol. The two of you joking together as you attempted to cover the large frame. You making fun of her for wanting to make one this huge. You managed to just barely cover the whole frame. It looked like the inside of a kaleidoscope with the random assortment of colors patched together.

The Doctor hung the parols throughout the console room, the natural glow of the pillars lighting them up. You felt as though you were in a sea of stars. The TARDIS pulsed lightly to bring your attention to the side of the room where two mugs of hot chocolate and a large fuzzy blanket were placed. Bringing them to the center of the room you settled onto the floor. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. When the Doctor finished hanging the last parol she turned to you for approval. Opening your arms to her you encouraged her to join you in the blanket for cuddles.

Immediately she rushed to clutch at you, snuggling into your arms with a content sigh.

"Do you like it?" She nervously asked.

"I love it, Doctor. Thank you."

You handed her the mug of hot chocolate and laughed as she eagerly drank it, leaving a milk mustache on her upper lip. Kissing her lips sweetly brought the sweet taste of chocolate to your own mouth. You picked up your own mug and took a sip while admiring the parols spread throughout the room. Maybe you could celebrate Christmas again with this incarnation of the Doctor without fear of trouble. You smiled, you'd have to see how next year went.

#thirteenth doctor x reader

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black-dragon1998 · 4 years

Text

First day back at the office

part 8 ‘Out of the box wat of starting a family’

summary: Lena has to go back to the office but Kara has a Supergirl emergency so Lydia has to go with her.

part 1 Beginning a family

part 2 Meeting the rest of the family

part 3 Going shopping

part 4 Waiting for Supergirl

part 5 Sick

part 6 Game night part 1/2

part 7 Game night part 2/2

Lena had imagined her first day back to work a little different. Kara and her had agreed on taking turns on staying home and taking care of Lydia. Kara’s job as a reporter gave her a little more leniency about her work hours and place. Lena had to eventually go back to the office, even how good Sam did a job as a CFO L-Corp didn’t run without her signature. She did however hoped it would be a little smoother.

Of course, their life couldn’t be that easy. The day Lena was support to go back to work, she really couldn’t put it off anymore. Alex called in Supergirl for some alien crisis, forcing Lena to come up with a new strategy. Lena woke up a grumpy Lydia, trying to explain why she had to go with her to the office. Luckily Lydia took her baths in the evening and only needed a fresh pair of clothes.

Putting her in her highchair Lena gave her an easy breakfast that she couldn’t smear out over herself, while she gathered everything to take with them. Next to two different outfits she also packed a couple of toys, Lydia’s favorite color book and crayons, her noise-cancelling headphones and a couple of soothers.

Forty-five minutes later Lena had both of them strapped in the car and was driving toward L-corp. Lydia had back asleep.

It still being early in the morning L-Corp wasn’t as busy as it usually was, so Lena could move Lydia to her office without her little girl being scared by all the noises. Lena installed Lydia on the couch so she could sleep for another couple of hours. She didn’t have any meetings planned for today, so she could become up to date with all the paperwork she had missed. This also mend she could keep a close eye on Lydia, not quite ready to let the girl be alone.

It was close to 11 o’clock when Lena saw the mountain of blankets on the couch start to move. Lena signed the paper in front of her and got up from her desk to go see her.

“sleep well a chroi.” Lena crouched down in front of the couch and started stroking Lydia’s head to help and ground the little girl. Waking up in unfamiliar places was hard for the little girl, evident when she woke up at Alex and Sam’s house when they had laid her down for a short nap. Seeing her mother made the girl relax, preventing an meltdown.

“Mommy! Mama?” the little crinkle in the little girl's forehead reminded her so much of herself and couldn’t help but smile.

“mama is with aunt Alex, they are helping people.” Explaining to a two-year-old that your mother is a superhero is one thing trying to explain what the entails are on a whole other level.

Seeing the familiar object Lydia dropped her thump and opened her mouth for her mother to put in the soother. Putting in the soother Lena strokes Lydia’s cheek with her other hand for comfort.

“do you know where you are Angeal?” Lydia nodded, still whining for her mama. Lena and Kara had noticed Lydia had taken on the habit of sucking on her thump while feeling fussy so Lena searched Lydia’s bag for her ‘Supergirl’ themed soother, a gods gift to keep the girl calm in hard moments. If only had they had it the first couple of weeks.

Lena stood up, getting back to work hopping Lydia would sleep for just a little while longer. No such luck, because like every time Lydia woke up she craved human contact when she just woke up.

“Mommy!” Lydia makes grabby hands at Lena, the young mother knew she shouldn’t give in so fast or her little girl would get spoiled. Thinking back at her times with the Luthor’s. She couldn’t remember if Lillian has ever hugged her, makes the decision very quickly.

Lena picked up her daughter and walked back to her desk to continue working. During her time at home, Lena had learned how-to work with a little human attached to her hip or on her lap.

A couple of hours had passed when Lydia started squirming on Lena’s lap. Looking down Lena saw Lydia looking up at her.

“Mommy, potty.” Reacting quickly Lena lifted Lydia and puts a hand under her to feel it heavier than before.

“Okay little one, let’s get you cleaned up.” Lena got up from her desk. Putting Lydia on the ground to grab her bag with clean cloths. The little girl started to get fussy when putting down and Lena had to act fast.

“just a moment Angeal, I’m just grabbing your bag and clean cloths.” Slinging the bag over her shoulder she grabs Lydia’s hand and leads her toward the restroom, the on the hall and not in her office because the one in her office didn’t have enough room for her to help Lydia let alone changer her. Nobody used it beside her and Jess so nobody could see her being soft and ruin her reputation.

Exiting the restroom Lydia was walking next to her, full woken up and was animatedly talking about her dream. Lena was listening intently while they were walking back. The talking instantly stopped when the little girl noticed the woman standing in front of Jesses desk, who was out on her lunch break.

The woman looked very agitated her foot tapping rapidly on the floor and her arms were crossed over her chest, huffing every few seconds to let people know she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

“mommy wo that?” Lydia talking seemed to draw the woman’s attention, she spun around on her high heels and levelled them with a glare. Lena was unaffected by this but Lydia hid behind Lena.

“ah finely, somebody to assist me. I have to say this is one of the worst welcomes I have had in a long time.” The tone in the woman implied that Lena should feld bad for this, which she didn’t. All Lena could do was stare at the woman. Who was she? What was she doing here and more importantly how did she get up here?

Lena felled a extensive talk with her security team coming up.

“what can I do for you, ma’am.” Lena didn’t show any emotion on her face. She knew the woman wasn’t here for an appointment because she didn’t have any today and had told Jess to redirect everybody that wanted to make one to another date.

the woman sends her another glare, looking very annoyed.

“well because of your tardiness ‘I’ am late for my appointment.” Lena couldn’t help but look at the woman with a questionable look. What was this entitled woman talking about, what nonsense was she spouting. It also seemed she didn’t know who she was talking about and that Lena was the secretary.

Lydia didn’t like this woman. She was mean snarky and not in the bubbly way her mommy could be with her mama and auntie Alex. She made her feel uncomfortable. The little girl pulled on Lena’s pants to get her attention.

Looking down Lena saw her daughter outstretched, silently making fists at her. Lena picked her up and put her on her hip, stroking her back to soothe he, sensing she was feeling uncomfortable.

Seeing Lydia seemed to double the woman glaring, making the little girl shrink back into Lena.

“if you weren’t so busy slacking off at your job maybe you could let the CEO know I am here.” Lena was getting fed up with this woman and her making her daughter uncomfortable was the last straw.

“Sorry to disappoint you but are no meetings plant for today, so if you would be so pleased to leave before I’m forced to call security.” Lean fired back, stepping behind Jesses desk ready to call security.

Not giving up that easy the woman started spouting other lies while calling Lena names.

“that is impossible I know the CEO and he is expecting me, so if you would be so nice as to go and get him you and that runt of your can go back to doing nothing. Let me guess you want to sell the kid as he don’t you, making him pay for your expenses.”

“I’m sure you know the CEO, but she doesn’t know you and is asking you to leave.” Lena fires back, picking up the phone and call security. Hearing Lena call security the woman loses it completely, razing her voice while spouting insults and pointing an accusing finger at Lena saying that she was lying. Lydia buried herself further into Lena, not liking the loud noises.

“I don’t know if you think you are funny but I demand to speak to your superior!” keeping a calm face Lena walks into her office, leaving the woman behind screaming.

She placed Lydia on the couch stroking her cheek, calming her down.

“you okay a chroi?” Lena asked looking wordily at her daughter. Lydia didn’t say anything but did give a little nod. Lena decided to leave Lydia in the office while she dealt with the raging woman and after that, she thinks it might be best to go home for the day, maybe stop for lunch. Giving her a final kiss on the forehead Lena walks back outside the office.

Lena had informed her security team of a code yellow, trespassing without violence. So they should be here soon. She closed the door behind her so Lydia wouldn't see or hear anything that would happen. The woman was still where she left her and attacked Lena the moment she saw her exiting the office.

“I thought you were going to get your superior and where did you leave the brat.” That was the last straw for Lena, nobody called her kid a brat.

“I don’t have to go and get anybody because in this company there is no one higher than me. What I did do was notify security and they should be here any moment to escort you out.” The grave mistake she seemed to have made settled on the woman’s face. The ‘simple’ secretary she thought she was harassing turned out to be the CEO of the company she wanted to get an appointment with.

Behind the woman, Lena saw the elevator doors open. Stepping out were Jess and her security team. If this was something Jess had to deal with on the daily the woman deserved a raze.

“the next couple of minutes will determine whether or not I press charges for trespassing or not.” Lena watched on in amusement how the woman’s face flushed with rage but held her breath. Informing Jess over what happened and trusting she will handle everything with security Lean stepped back into the office to check on her daughter.

Lydia had retreated to one of the corners of the couch, knees pulled up to her chest and plush wolf squeezed tightly between her arms and legs. Lena sat down next to her, not touching her to not startle the girl even more. It took a minute for Lydia to notice her mother had reentered the room.

“mommy! Woman gone?” Lena pulled Lydia on her lap and started stroking her hair. Seeing the state her daughter was in Lena did have to have a firm word with her security team, so things like this never happened again.

“it’s okay now little one. The mean lady is gone.” Lydia visibly relaxed into Lena and hugged her mother closer.

“Why don’t we pack up and go home, we can stop for lunch and maybe mama is done with her work already and can join us.” Lydia nods in the crook of Lena’s neck. Lean picked up the things she needed, the rest she would leave at the office for if Lydia stayed over again. Before leaving the office Lena put on Lydia’s noise-cancelling headphones and picket her up.

She took the elevator straight to the underground parking where her driver was waiting for her. On their way home, they stopped for Kara’s and Lydia favourite lunch at Noonan’s. sending Kara a quick text to tell her where they were and how things where going moments later she got a text back from Kara saying she would join them at home for lunch.

When Kara entered the apartment for lunch Lydia’s mood had gone back up again and she was telling Kara about the day she had at the office. Kara was a little confused when Lydia started talking about a monster that had yelled at her mommy, but with Lena clarifying Kara was listening intently.

food devoured Kara played with Lydia for a little while, letting Lena put on the final touches on the papers she started in the office before laying the little girl down for her afternoon nap. While the little girl slept Kara finished the article she had to finish before cuddling with Lena on the couch to listen to how her girlfriend was feeling. She knew Lena was good at bottling up her feelings and prioritizing other people over herself. It didn’t take long before all the stresses of the day were released and Lena snuggled into Kara to take her own midday nap.

The first day back to work had certainly interesting, but Lena if she had Kara and Lydia coming home to she could do it forever.

want to support me Buy me a Ko-fi

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #kara danvers x lena luthor #kara danvers x reader #mom kara danvers #lena luthor x reader #protective lena luthor #mom lena luthor #Kara Danvers x Daughter OC #oc daughter #protective Kara

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apples-r-rubbish · 4 years

Text

Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 4

Summary: An adventure with the Doctor leads you the outback, with a mysterious stranger Word Count: 2.8k AN: 2 parts on one night because I’m feeling nice :) hope you enjoy! -L x Warnings: none Tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @penguinwithitsarseonfire

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7) (PART 8) MASTERLIST

Travelling in the TARDIS was weird, you’d imagined it handful of times and yet it couldn’t actually compare to it happening

“It’s bigger on the inside. Sorry I always wanted to say that,” You chuckled in awe of the ship

“Any weird burning questions?” She asked flipping a few switches and looking at you over the console

“Is it actually psychic? And are the bunk beds still around? I really want to believe Amy was kidding about both of those”

“Yes, no and no. Yes it is psychic, no the bunk beds aren’t around although I still love them and no she wasn’t joking,” She explained stepping over to you and tapping a few buttons “We’re here, wardrobe is down the corridor, a left then a right then another right. I mean I am assuming you don’t want to wear a work suit on another planet, that is” She said with a small laugh escaping her lips. She was beautiful.

Eventually you found the wardrobe got dressed and wandered back out, the TARDIS was suspended in the air and she was on the phone, “Just calling to say hi, fam. Where are you? We said an hour. You're late. Very late. All of you. And I picked up (Y/N), on the way we finally matched so we had that date, right see you soon,”

“You have a group chat?” You asked disrupting her thoughts as she messed with various tubes and cables

“Yeah, just in case. You look nice, I think that’s the most casual I’ve ever seen you, other than New years,” She laughed, helping you out of the box with her surprisingly strong arms. She didn’t notice the black cars pull up behind her, or a few men dressed in all black step out

“We need you to come with us,” One of them stated, in a monotone voice

“Can I finish up first? I'm just draining the water slides. And the boating lakes. And the rainforest floor. Plus, I'm waiting for my mates,” She frowned clearly not pleased by his request

“Your friends are inside the car. We went to your office to find you Miss (L/N), however you weren’t there,” The agent further explained. At that point Graham stuck a cautious and slightly confused head out of the window “This is the worst uber ever,” He joked

“Please, it’s in your best interest you come with us,” The man urged again. The doctor looked at you, and you nodded and gave a cautious smile, she took your hand and stepped into the car. She got into the front and you got into one of the backseats, greeted by the confused faces of Graham, Ryan and Yaz. You explained the situation quietly to them whilst they nodded at brief intervals. That was until the car got murder obsessed and killed the driver and decided to fire at you until the Doctor managed to fix it and you arrived at M.I.6 headquarters in one piece.

MI6 was busy and despite the Doctors lack of faith in them they managed to get the TARDIS to the building in one piece. A heavy looking, important man wandered over to the group and tried to introduce himself to Graham, “Well, well, well. Finally we meet. You actually do exist.”

Graham stood there a confused look clear on his face, whilst an advisor whispered into the man's ear. You recognised him as C due to brief encounters MI6 and the institute had had over the years

“No, I’ve read the files. The Doctor is a man,” was his response. You laughed at that, earning a glare from both C and the Doctor.

“Some of us have been lucky enough for an upgrade. Hi sorry, I’m the Doctor, the car you sent for us tried to kill us,”

“Oh we tried to escort you here not kill you,” He man laughed

“I swear, we have better tech at the institute and we aren’t ran by the government,” You frowned

“Ah Miss (L/N), lovely to see you again. How’s the institute? Still up to date on conspiracy theories and wasting money I see?” He shot back, a smug smile resting on his face “We need your help Doctor.”

After showing you all, the body of a former human in a coma and various spy gadgets, C explained the situation. “All of the spies that have ended up like this have been assigned to one man, Daniel Barton. Founded VOR.”

“We need skywatcher on this, where is he? I haven’t seen him yet?”

“We fired him-” He began. The Doctor pulled out her phone, typed a text and sent it, “kisses. Very french isn’t it?” She said another small wink aimed in your direction. Her phone dinged, in response a picture of a fish. She pushed the phone back into her pocket

“I can’t believe you fired the only person with an open mind about aliens-”

“Can we focus, look, we think Barton may be a double or triple agent he could be working for-” You heard the glass smash first, before C’s head rocked forward revealing a gun wound. You all ducked, running out the room as fast as you could, sprinting to the TARDIS. The Doctor typed away at the console as you stared in horror as something broke through the doors and tried to reach for you as the others were busy arguing

“That’s definitely not supposed to happen!” You shouted as the final button was pushed sending the thing vanishing

“Right, Ryan, Yaz, undercover work, investigating Daniel Barton, anything you can get on him, anything unusual, anything alien. (L/N) you can hack the list and get them in right? You can do it through the console,”

“On it,” you nodded calming down, and clicking away at a few buttons on the console

“So me Graham and (Y/N) will go and investigate my friend. Me and her, we’ve got the best chance of getting him to listen, I’m literally an alien and she’s my assigned stalker.” You stuck your tongue out at that, as you finished typing.

“I see you decoded my message. Fancy a cuppa?” A man sat in a chair asked, when the three of you exited after dropping off Ryan and Yaz.

“Always. Hello, this is my friend Graham, and my other friend (Y/N), she works for the Bad Wolf institute,”

“And you’re?” Graham asked

“O,” He responded, standing to greet the you all

“O?”

“O. It was an inside joke, C would always say it when I entered a room and it just stuck,” O explained

“Can I take a nose around your gaff?” The doctor asked, not waiting for a response before heading in

“Sorry to hear about you being fired. I would have offered you a job if I’d have known about your interests,” You smiled

“Thank you, that’s kind. I heard about the attack, I’m so sorry that happened cybermen are especially awful,”

You wandered into your house, a mess of technology and paperwork was strewn about the house

“What is all this stuff?” Graham asked, trying to sound as polite as he could

“The full MI6 record of the unexplained, as compiled by me. Human disappearances, sightings of unidentified objects, mysterious beings, possible alien incursions going back centuries,”

“So basically my department then?” You asked sipping something that vaguely resembled tea

“I’ve read about you,” O began “You’re amazing. A missing person’s case, a ghost but you have all that power, that knowledge.”

“Had no family left, and a few friends when I joined the institute, no one to miss me. Better that way, connections to the institute make you vulnerable. Especially dealing with aliens and time travel,” You explained

“Still, you appear throughout history, that’s amazing! Even as a missing person,” he rambled, light in his eyes. The Doctor cringed at that, she did not appreciate the way he looked at you or asked questions like that

Panic flooded your system, the two guards were gone, and one of those glowing figures remained.

“It’s coming through the wall!” Graham shouted

“There’s another trap, it won’t release we need to get it to that spot,” O gestured as he fiddled with controls. Without thinking, you rushed to the spot and made lots of noise, it took steps toward you until the heavy trap glass cage slammed down over it. More typing and shouting between the two of them until the energy had been rerouted. You fell to the floor in relief after it was contained

“You ok?” The doctor asked, waiting for a brief nod before she turned to scan the thing, ignoring you. O helped you to your feet, “It worked, it actually worked. You were brilliant, thank you for doing that. You can stay if you like. It worked,” He buzzed, small excited jumps coming from him as he held you hands for support. You simply laughed at him as the Doctor attempted to interview the being. It had begun glowing

“It’s fighting back,” O announced, suddenly rushing back to the monitor “It’s trying to overload the systems,” The monitor shocked him angrily. The thing vanished and in its place was Yaz.

After a bit of time hopping you were back, you’d picked up Ryan. It was daytime in the outback. You were sat on a kitchen counter, as Graham and O talked at the table

“How do you know her?” Graham asked O in attempt to make conversation

“I had brief encounter with her once, back when she was a man,”

“Everyone keeps saying that. Even her. She was actually a man?” Graham questioned as you and O laughed

“What do you know about her home planet? They can cheat death, on there,” O started before he was cut off by the Doctor existing the TARDIS holding a large glass jug. More explanations, more confusion, more plans. Barton’s DNA was only 93% human. A vaguely threatening animation. Your head was spinning, you were overwhelmed. O went to talk to you, the doctor stopped him and offered him a trip as you had to break into a party, talk to Barton, she guided him towards the TARDIS. Before turning back to you, “You alright?”

“Overwhelmed, tired. Very different to case files and vortex manipulators,” You mumbled, resting a cautious head on her shoulder. She pressed a finger to one of your temples and the sensation went, “should be fine now. C’mon party to investigate, let’s get dressed up,” She said, tugging you towards the TARDIS as O exited it and rambled about how impossible everything was.

You were dressed in a suit and at the party, it was crowded and loud. “Is this the time to mention I never did much undercover work?”

“You said you worked for MI6 didn’t you, son?” Graham asked

“Yeah as analyst,” O responded “I don’t think I did any missions,”

“Breathe, you’ll be fine. Done this loads of times,” You responded, the Doctor frowned, “What? I don’t just use my time in other periods for work purposes, my time travel isn’t too dissimilar from yours.”

You split up, Graham and Ryan going in one direction, Yaz going in another, you nodded at the Doctor before splitting from the others O trailing behind you.

“Sorry, you just seem to make this look so easy,”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, we'll play some games and try to get you relaxed and also look for Barton.” You reassured him. You selected a game and played. You tossed the dice casually as people cheered

“Did we win?” You asked confusion clear

“No, not remotely, but you know what they say unlucky in dice, lucky in love,” O said, staring at you a small smile on his face

“I’ve never heard that,”

“That’s because they don’t actually say that,” He laughed. The Doctor stormed back into the room, “We have to go now, Barton’s getting away,” You nodded and sped after her. She insisted on stealing motorbikes outfront and insisted you stay with her

“Promise me, you know how to ride this,” You said as you held her waist tightly

“I have a vague idea, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” She said as she started it and sped away the others following closely behind her “I could get used to this you know, you clinging to me,” There was smug element to her voice

“You chose to flirt now when we’re being shot at? And when you’re riding a motorbike,” you hissed slightly sarcastically

“Never a better time, I do some of my best work under pressure,” She laughed

Eventually you arrived at an aircraft carrier and you snuck past what little security there was.

“We can’t let him get away c’mon,” the doctor said chasing the plane,

“It’s not as if we’re going to jump on the plane- no- you can’t be serious-” Graham muttered. The Doctor threw herself into the plane followed, by you, the fam and O trailing slightly behind, you grabbed his arm and helped pull him into the plane

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” You said as he caught his breath. The Doctor frowned as she closed the hatch. The six of you headed further into the plane. “Sorry about that, I’ve never been good at sprinting. I was the last one in every race at school” O explained a sheepish smile stuck to his features

“Sorry what?” The Doctor asked, cogs turning in her brain “I read your file, you were a champion sprinter?”

There was a heavy pause. Followed by a laugh and a shift in O’s demeanor “Got me. Well done.” A sharp clap punctuating his sentence

“I’m sorry what?” Yaz piped up

“Might want to look out the window, a little bit wicked witch, but you get the gist. Maybe. Maybe not.” His house was hanging outside the window suspended in midair.

“No,” was all the doctor managed to say

“Come on Doctor, catch up you can do it!” He pointed a finger at you “And you should be using your pathetic human brain, c’mon you can do it, you’ve read all the files,”

“Oh,” was all the doctor managed to say. You swore, loudly.

“That’s my name, that’s why I chose it. Oh, so satisfying. Doctor, I did say look for the spymaster. Or should I say spy... Master? Hi. And you, you’ve read countless files upon files about me and yet, you couldn’t figure it out,”

You sat there stunned, unable to move in shock “But you can’t- you shouldn’t- you- you died-” was all that managed to stutter out of your mouth

“I can be and I very much am, sweetheart,” He replied, cool confidence in his tone

“So, what’s going on? He’s not O?”

“I’m her best enemy, call me Master. Me and her,” he said gesturing towards the doctor “go way, way, way back,”

“But I met O years ago?”

“I know, I know,” He laughed jumping like a giddy child

“But there was an O? C mentioned him,” Ryan asked clearly still confused

“Yeah, a man very close to my heart,” he said placing a hand on his chest “Not that one the other one. Well, my pocket actually,” He pulled a small matchbox out of his pocket revealing a small miniaturized figure within it “It’s always good to keep a backup of one’s work. Tissue compression it’s a classic. Aw you should have laughed at that,” He nudged you as he said it, “ambushed him on his way to work for the first day, shrunk him down and took his identity. That staff canteen was surprisingly good,” He tossed the matchbox casually to one side “I have had SO much fun!”

The doctor snapped into action, “We have to warn Barton! He’s not here? What did you do?”

He fell into the chair next to you, “I don’t understand what you see in her, she’s not very bright is she, love? Wrong question, dear. Check the seat,” He smirked, you sat there still processing everything. “Oops, made it sonic proof, no parachutes, deadlock sealed. Cockpit bomb, short fuse. I can relate,” The master stood up overdramatically.

“Where’s Barton then?” You asked

“Called away before take off. Stick with me (Y/N), I control everything.” He clicked his fingers and two of the Kaasavan appeared. You backed into your seat and shook your head violently

“Get back, I can’t stop it!” The doctor shouted, slamming the door as a loud boom sounded.

“Oops. One last thing, Something you should know in the seconds before you die, everything you know is a lie.” And with that, he had vanished. The last thing you saw of the Doctor was her panic filled eyes staring at you.

#13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #doctor who self insert #13th doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor #thirteenth Doctor imagine #Doctor x reader #Doctor who x reader

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koolkat9 · 3 years

Text

First Valentine’s Day

Paring: GerEng, implied PruIta

Rating: Teen (Just to be safe)

Word Count: 1949

Summary: Germany and England are celebrating their first Valentine's day together. Germany who has little experience in the romance department and the haunting memory of their first date littered with mishaps is nervous, but vows to give his lover the best Valentine's Day he can.

---

"Germany you need to stop," Italy said, his usually cheery tone was replaced by one of seriousness. Germany had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes and the sight was making Italy's neck hurt. "I know it's your first Valentine's day, but you have nothing to worry about."

"What about our first-"

"That was only once. And still, he loved you regardless."

"Ja but...b-but..."

He grabbed his friend's forearms with a strength Germany never saw before. "No buts. Take a deep breath. In...Out...good."

Despite Italy's best attempt, Germany's stress was way past the point of deep breathing. He tried to smile at his friend, but even he could tell it was strained. For a week now he had been thinking of all kinds of plans for England's and his first Valentine's day together. Sure they had spent it as single friends over the past decade, but now they were lovers and that changed everything. England deserved only the best, and Germany had little to no experience with romance. While Germany began pacing again, Italy just rolled his eyes and headed to the living room to phone one of the best restaurants in Berlin and get the two love birds a reservation.

When he returned to Germany, said nation was still pacing around the room, mumbling to himself. "Dios Mio. You can relax a bit. I set up your dinner plans.

Germany halted his pacing. "Really.”

"Si, si. For six. Now come on, you still need to get him a gift."

Germany opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't really argue. Also, one important thing was out of the way, which made him feel lighter. Before he could say anything, the beaming Italian was pulling him out the door.

---

"So you have the reservation?" Italy asked as the two sat in the car just outside of a glitzy restaurant. The only light was that from the street lamps and the restaurant itself.

"Ja...Ludwig for two at six."

"Perfect! And the gift?"

"Yes." Germany looked down at the nicely wrapped box he held in his hand.

They had spent the whole afternoon looking for something and regardless of how many little trinkets they found, none of them were fitting enough (at least according to Germany). Eventually, they came across a store that sold all sorts of glass items. He hadn't thought much of it at first, but he was desperate. He definitely hadn't expected to find a small glass figure of a bunny with eyes as green as England's and would walk away with such a gift. It seemed perfect at the time, but now he was starting to doubt that England would like it.

Italy gave him a slight pout as if he knew what Germany was thinking. "Don't start that," he warned, "just get in there and show him how much he means to you!" Germany swallowed hard. He appreciated his friend's advice and support, but no words were able to calm his beating heart or racing mind.

A knock on the window took Germany out of his thoughts as he came face to face with England. His emerald eyes sparkled under the lights and there was a small and endearing smile on his lips. Germany always found his smile beautiful and the image in front of him made him a bit calmer.

"Good evening love," he greeted, placing a kiss on Germany's cheek.

"Guten Abend." They stood awkwardly for a few moments, looking over each other shyly. England wore a nice a-line suit in dark green that complemented his eyes perfectly and his hair was more kept than usual. "Y-You look lovely," Germany eventually spoke.

The Brit's cheeks went pink at the compliment. "Thank you...so do you." He took the German's hand and began guiding him towards the entrance. "You know, you didn't have to go out like this."

"I-I know...I...I just...you deserve it."

"Oh...w-well.." for once England was at a loss for words, "l-l-let's just head in."

---

"What do you mean the reservation was for five?" Germany took in a deep breath, trying not to raise his voice at the hostess. That proved difficult however as she told them that their table had been given to another couple due to their "tardiness."

He was about to lose it until he felt a light tug on his arm. "Come on Ludwig...it's fine." England muttered. He began pulling Germany towards the door, despite his protests.

"B-But..."

"We don't need their fancy, overpriced meal," he said a bit louder this time to make sure he was heard by the staff.

"Arthur!"

"Just come on."

England didn't stop pulling until they were back outside and even then he didn't let go of Germany's arm. The cool night air against Germany's skin and a deep breath managed to cool him down and let go of his frustration. With a clear mind, he began thinking of what to do next. Italy was the one to drop him off so he didn't have a car and England flew here so he didn't have one either. He looked up and down the street trying to think of restaurants nearby that wouldn't be busy.

"I saw a bar on my way here and it didn't seem too busy, maybe we should try there," England stated, leaning into his boyfriend.

"We might as well check. I don't have any other ideas."

---

At least there was some luck on their side. The bar England had mentioned was practically empty and they got a table right in the front window. Their suits were a bit much for the venue, but they distracted themselves with conversation and their meals. Despite how awkward and frustrating the night started, everything fell into place once they were seated and catching up with each other.

As they ate and England went on about the disastrous meeting with the Commonwealth, Germany noticed that some crumbs had made their way across the Englishman's cheek. "Y-You got some..." he gestured to his own cheek. England lifted his napkin to the side of his face, just missing the spot. He tried a few more times before Germany had had enough and reached over with his napkin to wipe them away. The Brits cheeks went warm at the contact, but a small smile graced his lips as well. Germany was not so lucky however as his whole face and even his neck went bright red and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Thank you...now how has your week been?"

"W-Well..." Germany debated whether he wanted to admit he had been worrying and panicking over today, but considering how good things were going, he figured that it was best left forgotten. "Pretty good. Nothing too special though other than helping Feliciano pick out a gift Gil."

"I see. Tonight is at least eventful."

Germany gave a small chuckle, "I suppose. But anything with you is a highlight in my week."

"I-Is that so?" England's cheeks were flushed again as he reached for what to say next, "God you are too much sometimes...but I feel the same way."

After finishing their meal, England suggested exchanging gifts. Due to Germany's nerves, England offered to go first, handing him a heart-shaped box with a lovely white ribbon. He looked away as Germany took the box. "I-I got Emma to help me get the chocolates. I-I-I hope it's to your liking."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful." He looked down at his own gift box starting to think that maybe he should have just gotten flowers or chocolates.

"Love?" England called after a few minutes of staring at the gift.

"Uh...sorry. Here you go. Fröhlichen Valentinstag."

Germany was unsure what exactly caused him to drop the box, but somehow, while handing it over to England, it ended up on the floor and a loud crack was heard. Things became deathly silent as the two stared wide-eyed at the fallen gift.

"Lud-" before England could finish, Germany was already up and heading to the door, his fist clenched and a deep frown on his face. England quickly paid, gathered the boxes, and rushed after him. He shouted out Germany's name as he wandered the streets looking for him.

Eventually, England caught sight of the slicked-back hair of Germany across the street much to his relief. It did not last for long as he tripped while coming down off the curb and landed on his foot wrong in an attempt to stop himself. At least he got Germany's attention who was at his side in no time. He propped the Brit up into a sitting position and ran his fingers over the small scrapes on the other's face.

"Arthur. Mein Gott. Th-This is...I'm so sorry."

"It's...ah...it's fine love. I'll be good as new in a couple of hours."

"No, it's not fine. None of this night has been fine. I...I'm ruining it all. I'm sor-" he couldn't finish his sentence as a pair of lips crashed into his. The kiss made his mind blank and he found himself eagerly kissing back.

As they pulled back and Germany's brain began working again he asked softly, "can you walk?"

"I don't think so."

"I'll carry you."

"W-Wait Ger-" Ignoring the Brit's sputtering, Germany hoisted the other man onto his back. All England could do was grab onto his partner's shoulders and bury his burning face into the crook of Germany's neck.

"I'm sorry for a mess of the night," Germany apologized again.

"No, no, no. You have nothing to apologize for. Lady luck just isn't on our side. Plus...I still had a good time at the bar."

"M-Me too. And I'll replace your gift. It's probably even more broken from that fall."

"Yeah...you don't have to though."

"I can't just not get you a gift for Valentine's day. And don't you start arguing with me over such matter." England sighed and buried his face once more into Germany's neck in compliance.

---

As soon as they returned to Germany's home, England was laid on the couch with his injured foot and Germany went into the kitchen for ice.

"Can I get you anything else?" Germany asked after he situated the ice just right. Before getting up, he pecked the other's ankle for good measure.

"Well, there is one thing." England gave him a smirk as he gestured for the German to come over to which Germany did with a cocked eyebrow. Before he could say anything, he was pulled down into a long, slow kiss. He hummed into it as he moved his lips to match England's. They eventually (and reluctantly) had to break for air, but England's hold on Germany kept them close.

"Anything else?" Germany murmured, placing a light kiss on England's ear.

"Can I see the gift you were going to get me?"

"Nein, you will have to wait for tomorrow."

"Bu-" In a similar way that England did this evening, Germany pressed his lips against England to silence him.

"I'll get the same thing, I just have to run to the store again tomorrow."

"Fine. Chocolate?"

"I'd love that."

And so, the two lovers shared the chocolates as they sat back and watched some cheesy romance film that was playing on the T.V. Eventually, England snuggled into Germany's side and closed his eyes, content to fall asleep right there. Usually, Germany would protest such actions, but it was Valentine's Day and England's sleeping face looked so soft and peaceful so he let it happen. Soon enough Germany also dozed off, leaning his head Against England's.

Translations:

Guten Abend= Good evening

Fröhlichen Valentinstag= Happy Valentine's Day

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omgviolette12 · 5 years

Text

After Hours - A Professor Loki fanfic

Summary: Evelyn Monroe has been a TA for professor Laufeyson’s Calculus course for four months now. He was known to be quite strict, but that never deterred her from applying for the position in order to be close to the man she had been secretly pining for. One evening, she returns to his office after opening hours… and with her bountiful luck, she walks in on something not meant to be seen.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Eventual Romance/Smut

Pairing: Loki / Original female character

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 1681

A/N: The professor Loki fanfic you never asked for ;.; I was gonna wait till I had like… six chapters written in advance till I posted this, but fuck it. I’m fairly consistent, so you don’t have to worry about ‘when the fuck is this gonna update!?’ Anyway, let me know if it’s good so far.

Come check this out, babes!: @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101

_________________

“Excuse me! Sorry, please move! I said move!”

Evelyn spoke as she weaved her way through the busy hallway, bee-lining straight towards Professor Laufeyson’s office.

She had been absent not once, but three times the past two weeks for each one of their meetings, and she could feel that his patience had long vanished.

Until now, being a TA for his calculus course had been smooth sailing - contrary to what herself, and everyone else who had taken his class thought.

When Evelyn opted to take calculus the previous semester, she had already braced herself for failure. Math had never been her strong suit, barely passing even the most basic of classes despite her studious nature.

But under his tutelage, Evelyn had unexpectedly grown a deep love for the subject - and the professor himself.

In class, while professor Laufeyson could be unbearably strict most times, he never failed to find innovative ways to make each lecture fun and engaging. Not only that, he was extremely patient with her when she came for extra help during his office hours. She had even breached his lunchtime on multiple occasions, and not once did he turn her away.

That was why after passing his course with flying colors, Evelyn decided to apply for the TA position as soon as it opened. Admittedly, she had grown attached to the man; not only was he knowledgeable in mathematics, but with subjects ranging from history, literature - anything she could possibly think of.

But now, as she raced towards his office, she steeled herself for a harsh tongue-lashing from her scary professor. One thing that professor Laufeyson hated the most, was tardiness. He had been lenient with her thus far, and Evelyn feared he would think she was taking advantage of his good-will.

Reaching the door to his office, she swung it open in haste.

And there he sat, his mere presence exuding authority. One long elegant leg crossed over the other as he flipped idly through a book, not sparing a glance in her direction. He was even more intimidating with his sharp way of dressing; White dress shirt pressed to perfection, covered by a dark, slim- fit suit vest. Evelyn was a sucker for men in suits, and her professor wore them like no other.

She scuffled inside, closing the door behind her. Evelyn made sure to check if it was closed correctly - perhaps due to its age, the door refused to click most times.

After doing so, she walked to stand in front of his desk, shuffling awkwardly on her feet as she waited for him to speak.

It took several beats of silence before she finally heard his cold voice, “ Enlighten me…what day is it, Miss Monroe?”

Shit…what was today? “Uhm…Taco Tuesday..?”

He looked up from his book to give her a sharp look, “Is this a joking matter to you?”

“N..No..Nope! Uhm..I don’t- what… what was today suppose to be again?” Really Evelyn? Taco Tuesday? That’s the first thing that came to mind?

Sighing, her professor pinched the bridge of his nose before lifting a sheet of paper into view with two fingers.

Teaching Assistant Evaluation Form: Midterm Progress

“I am highly disappointed in the effort being displayed thus far, Miss Monroe. Out of all my other TA’s, I expected much more from you.”

Evelyn gaped stupidly at the paper in his fingers, and then began to panic internally. She had no idea TA’s had midterm evaluations, so she did plan on slacking a tiny bit until finals rolled around.

As an art major, taking three studio classes began to take its toll - so much that even professor Laufeyson became an afterthought. But now faced with the danger of failing, she would have to re-organize her priorities.

“I understand that you have a lot on your plate this semester. However, I would advise that you treat all responsibilities with equal priority.”

“Yes…I’m sorry professor, I promise to make up for all the lost time…”

The look he gave her after she said those words made her extremely uncomfortable. Sharp, and burning with intensity. Uh…did I say something wrong?

Having noticed that he must’ve looked off, he turned his head abruptly back to his book.

“Actions speak more than words, Miss Monroe. Now sit. You have much to make up for.”

And so, for the next three hours, Evelyn worked hard in the suffocating silence of his office grading one too many papers. Her professor never talked much, granted. But he wasn’t usually this quiet with her.

Over the past four months as his TA, they had developed a sort of… companionship. If you could call it that.

She was intimidated at first- and still is, but he was surprisingly easy to converse with. After she assisted him with whatever he had on his plate, they would usually fall into casual conversation, and talked about all manner of things that inevitably drew them closer.

But now…she could sense that he just was watching her, and she could barely concentrate on grading due to nerves.

Evelyn raised her head from the papers to chance a glance at her professor - and sure enough, he was staring at her with furrowed brows, and narrowed blue-green eyes.

What.. what’s his deal? He’s acting so weird…

Evelyn cleared her throat stiffly to breach the silence, “Uh… is everything okay?”

He shot her the unfriendliest look she had ever seen on his face, but spoke in a calm voice that did not match it, “You pull three no-shows, show up late, and then have the audacity to ask if everything’s okay?”

Welp…guess I shouldn’t have asked…

He closed the lid to his book a bit too harshly, causing Evelyn to jump slightly in her seat at the sudden sound.

“You’ve done enough, you may take your leave.”

Evelyn glanced down at the pile of papers she barely managed to make a dent in, “ Oh..but-”

“It is lunchtime, and I’d like to eat in peace. Now please leave.”

At his stern command, Evelyn gathered her things quickly before walking to the door. She glanced over her shoulder to look at her professor one more time, guilt weighing down her heart as she watched him gather the large pile of ungraded exams in front of him.

While she was a student in his class, professor Laufeyson always went above and beyond to make sure she knew the material and spared no effort in tutoring her when she asked for help. He was a busy man, so he rarely showed any other students the same courtesy.

But her lack of effort and laziness not only gave her a poor grade, but unnecessary stress to the person she admired the most.

No wonder he was so affronted with her. She was a terrible student, in addition to being a terrible friend.

Evelyn walked a little around campus aimlessly with a heavy heart, until she went inside a cafe across the street.

She loved the place - it had a cute little reading corner at the back, and she would always order a huge slice of lemon cake to eat while she studied.

And at the thought of cake… Evelyn was suddenly struck with an idea. She recalled, during one of their many casual conversations, that he mentioned having a bit of a sweet tooth.

Even if she couldn’t make up entirely for her poor work ethic, she could at least treat him to a nice, big slice of cake as a start.

After studying for a few hours, she went up to the counter to order the biggest slice of lemon cake they carried.

It was around six in the evening by the time she left the cafe, the skies now a dark purple hue as she scurried across campus with a large cake box.

The cake’s size was a bit overkill - but like her mama always said, go big or go home.

She just hoped he was still there around this time. More than likely he is, with the amount of work she left behind.

Evelyn entered the now empty building where his office was situated, taking care to walk as slowly as possible. She could be a bit clumsy when she was nervous, and at the moment her heart was beating a mile an hour.

Just give him the cake, apologize again, then head on home. No biggie.

He was really pissed with her earlier on though, and she hoped he cooled down considerably since then to accept her gift graciously.

As she slowly approached the office door, Evelyn paused.

Eh… the heck is that sound?

She walked closer to the door, and the sounds grew louder as she did.

Whack! Whack!

Slap!

Evelyn was beyond perplexed. What in the world was he doing in there to make that sound?

She was about to knock when the sound of her professor’s velvety voice through the door caused her to go stock still.

“I am highly disappointed in you, Miss Monroe. Who told you to come?”

Evelyn shivered at the tone of his voice, her eyes growing wide.

How…how did he know I was here? And why’s he talking like that?

She plagued herself with so many questions that she felt herself turning silly.

’‘But… I suppose you’ve been a diligent, good girl. You may come now, Evelyn. Come for me.”

What the…I guess he wants me to come in then?

Without further confirmation, Evelyn twisted the knob to swing the door open.

“Uhm… I’m sorry for - Holy SHIT!”

Little did she know… it wasn’t the ’come in, have some tea!’ type of come, but the sexy, kinky kind.

Evelyn all but threw the cake inside the room with a surprised yelp, shocked at the sight that now tainted her poor virgin eyes.

Her beautiful professor… whom she secretly admired… was currently balls deep within a fortunate female victim - paddle in hand as he fucked her mercilessly against the obviously sturdy surface of his mahogany desk.

Good? Bad? Worth pursuing? Let me know~

#loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki smut #tom hiddleston fanfiction #professor loki #tom hiddleston fic

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dat-fandom-losertown · 5 years

Text

The Drift Between Us

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Chapter 4: Beginnings of Adaptation

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Hank Anderson x Connor and Gavin Reed x RK900

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: Anxiety similar to mine, a lot of swearing all thanks to Hank

Word Count: 8,921

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~> Masterlist <~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Ritch knows even before he tries to wake Connor up for breakfast that it won’t work. After a day as bad as yesterday, the twin rarely comes out of his room the next day, and if he does it’s late in the afternoon at the earliest. Yet Ritch still always tries because he knows Connor will appreciate his effort of not just leaving him behind when he becomes active again.

He is aware that Connor is only more used to dealing with hunger and thirst because he occasionally feels the irrational need to punish himself like this for no reason. He understands needing alone time to recharge after stressful events, but Connor needs to at least eat or drink something instead of letting himself slowly deteriorate. Ritch idly wonders how many times Connor has gone longer than two days without food for one incomprehensible reason or another.

He thought his brother might not run into this problem when they were finally away from Amanda, though.

Although, to be fair, a portion of Connor’s situation this time is Ritch’s own fault. He’s not too prideful to admit that to himself. To Connor or anyone else, probably, but not to himself. He just thought that since Amanda wasn’t here, his brother would get steered down the wrong path or overwhelmed or both, so Ritch tried to step in and guide him in her place, and tried to be a bit more gentle than she was while doing so. That was obviously the wrong move to make or he did something else wrong, and it didn’t help that he went and hounded him down after a while, too, he realizes now. He’ll remember that for the future.

He still doesn’t want Connor near Mr. Anderson, but he’ll try to be more gentle and subtle about it from now on. He’ll also try to fix the relationship with Simon and the others that he and his twin undoubtedly made at least awkward again. It won’t be too far out of Ritch’s way to do so, since he plans on continuing his friendship with that group, and he played a large part in this mess, so it’s only right that he tries to correct things. Plus, it’ll be easier for Connor to find another partner if he’s on good terms with Markus and crew since they could possibly introduce him to new people in the future.

That, and Ritch really doesn’t trust Mr. Anderson with Connor at all. He’s a grumpy, short-tempered alcoholic who can barely get out of bed before the later part of lunch, and Ritch thinks his brother can’t quite see this due to the rose-tinted memories of when he was a decorated pilot on the television.

Either way, nothing can be done about any of that at the moment, especially considering breakfast hasn’t even quite started yet, and Ritch has a mission for himself. He is heading to where he may be able to find Luther and Chloe so he can alert them of Connor’s absence today. Maybe he’ll try waking up Connor at lunch and hope that he’ll actually get up since he no longer has to stress about Amanda’s reaction to him being late. Or maybe he’ll be practically comatose for longer than a day because Amanda doesn’t have any extra work waiting for him tomorrow for slacking off today…

“...well, we’ll just have to apologize again today, then, won’t we?”

Isn’t that North? Judging by where the voices are coming from, they’re headed to breakfast and will pass Ritch if he backtracks to the main hallway. That’s exactly what he does.

“Again, I don’t think that’s the right way to go about things,” Markus reasons, “He obviously doesn’t want to be reminded about whatever he was thinking about yesterday, and apologizing for it today will only make him think about it again.”

“Yes, but I think just looking at us will remind him of yesterday, anyway.” Simon points out.

“I think Simon’s right.” Ritch calls, stepping out to intercept the small group.

“Oh, hey Ritch…” Josh greets nervously. Ritch elects to ignore it.

“The best thing to do in this case is to act as if last night never happened at all. He’ll be awkward for the first bit of time, but he should go back to normal eventually.”

“We’re really sorry–”

“There’s no reason to apologize, Simon.” Ritch interrupts in a manner that he hopes seems kind, “You guys were just curious and concerned for him, and I had already made it stressful enough beforehand. I’m sure that if I hadn’t pushed him as far as I did, he wouldn’t have reacted quite this way when you guys asked your questions.”

There’s a brief awkward pause where no one knows what to say, so Ritch decides to continue on.

“I guess just… From now on, if you have any questions, you can always come to me. We grew up together after all.”

“Oh, sweet. So were you guys ever ordered to kill each other or something, then?”

–the punches come and come and don’t stop or slow–

“North!”

–where did he go where is he where is he whERE IS–

“What? He said we could ask him! And quite frankly, I don’t believe Connor!”

North’s last comment properly snaps him out of it. Ritch takes in a deep breath and holds it. Forcing himself to stay away from those thoughts, he mentally addresses the fact that North essentially called Connor a liar. While his brother may be a surprisingly good liar, he absolutely hates doing it. He, like Ritch, very much prefers to find loopholes within the question or lightly exaggerates or understates the truth.

“That doesn’t mean you get to ask him too! If it was sensitive to Connor, it probably is for him too! Why don’t you use your head for once, North!”

Jesus… Were they that blunt with Connor? No wonder why he’s the way he is right now. He had it worse than I did. He finally releases his breath, finally calmed down enough.

“Ritch? Are you okay?” Markus asks, taking a step forward with an expression of pure concern.

“Probably.” He answers too fast.

“Probably?” Markus tilts his head slightly.

“It’d be best if you avoided any questions of that type indefinitely, because even Connor and I avoid discussing such things with each other. And if there are any other questions that any of you feel may be risky to ask, it’d be best to ask me about it first.” Josh and Simon are just about to apologise when Ritch cuts them off. “But to answer your question, North, the event we don’t speak of didn’t end with us against each other. Amanda knew better than to break laws like that.” Most of the time, anyway, he doesn’t add.

“Oh. Sorry ‘bout that.” She seems genuinely regretful.

“I appreciate it, just please don’t be so blunt with Connor. He picks up hints easily, even when you don’t know you’re giving them. He probably won’t be in class today, so I can’t show you his little tells of his attentiveness. It’s actually quite fascinating if psychology and sociology are things you enjoy.” Ritch takes a deep breath to fully dispel the lingering nerves. “Anyhow, I was on my way to let Luther and Chloe know that Connor won’t be in class.” He takes everyone’s nods as a polite dismissal from the conversation, so he turns and starts walking away. “I’ll see you guys at breakfast in a bit?” he calls over his shoulder.

Josh replies with forced enthusiasm, “Yeah! We’ll see you then!”

This time, Ritch doesn’t stop until he finds Luther in his office preparing for the day. He found Chloe several minutes before him, but she seemed busy and he didn’t want to bother her with a small message such as this since she has other responsibilities. He suspects she only sticks around Luther for the first week or so to help with evaluations.

When he gives the instructor a brief rundown of what kind of state Connor is in and pointedly doesn’t mention why, Ritch expects him to insist that Connor comes down anyway since they can’t take “mental days” if they become real pilots. Instead, Luther completely understands and even goes as far as to write a personal note to Connor, explaining that he should take whatever time necessary to get back to normal and they’ll find time for him to take the initial evaluations.

With a quick farewell and a shocked yet genuine thank you, Ritch heads back to his room with the paper in hand. On his way back, he runs into Gavin again, but easily dodges the asshole’s attempt at tripping him. He ignores Gavin’s taunts and swears behind him just as easily while he walks on. Ritch is learning how to handle that mess of a human relatively quickly, he thinks. Maybe one day he’ll figure out how to trip Gavin back with little to no repercussions.

He opens the door to his shared bunker easily and finds Connor asleep on his bunk, just as expected. He lays Luther’s note near his pillow so he’ll see it whenever he wakes up instead of trying to wake him up to read it now. He also takes his own blanket and lays it on top of the one his brother has himself wrapped up in, knowing he likes to feel like a tightly wrapped burrito when going through a mood dip. Connor doesn’t even shift in his sleep. Ritch then gets down and starts playing relaxing ambiance sounds on the small speakers he brought with him, hoping that Connor will return to normal faster if he does.

This is the one time he’ll cottle his brother like this, and it’s really only because this reaction is more than reasonable for the memory that was brought up this time. That, and he did play a part in bringing Connor down to this. Otherwise, Ritch would leave him to do his own thing. Not because he doesn’t care, quite the contrary, actually. It’s because he knows that there are harder, tougher times coming in the relatively near future, and he needs Connor to be ready for it, to be able to pick himself up in case Ritch is gone on a separate mission– or gone for a much worse reason– and can’t be there to help. He very highly doubts Connor will ask for help from anyone, and he also doubts that Connor’s future partner will know how to properly help him through these episodes. Hell, even Ritch barely knows how to anymore.

Therefore, Ritch just waits patiently each time and hopes that his twin is learning how to bring himself out of these dips in an easier and faster way each time he’s tortured with them.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

The first dinner Hank spends without that Connor character coming to sit at his table, he thinks nothing of it. The young adult probably found some friends finally and is sitting with them. Hank makes the note to come to lunch early the next day to find out which group to avoid, since there’s no doubt Connor has already started spreading new rumors or nasty truths within that group. Even if he hasn’t, he wants to spare the sickeningly polite guy the mandatory greeting and small talk with Hank if they ever pass or run into each other, and the poor kid doesn’t need any teasing from his new friends.

Hank ends up waking up much earlier than he wanted to the next morning thanks to a particularly nasty nightmare. Cranky and exhausted, yet unable to go back to sleep with the horrors waiting behind his eyelids, Hank forces himself up and downs a beer or few to ease the pain and to maybe hopefully get back to sleep. It doesn’t work. He ends up being the fifth person to breakfast, which thoroughly shocks the military equivalent of high school lunch ladies. Deciding that since he’s up this early anyway, he may as well wait to see which group has Connor in it now.

Hank waits and waits and watches the entrance closely but subtly, yet he never spots the kid. He easily finds his brother, who is still hanging around his group of friends that Connor mentioned, but there’s no Connor. He’s one of the last people to leave breakfast that morning.

Now, Hank is in no way attached to Connor whatsoever, but anyone would start becoming concerned when the person who refused to leave them alone at mealtimes suddenly disappears. That’s exactly how Hank explains his strange sense of confusion at the young man’s vanishing act, anyway. That lunch is spent pointedly not thinking about houdini number two and focusing on enjoying the peace and quiet again. He definitely doesn’t keep an eye on the door at almost all times to try and find the young adult, either. That would be borderline creepy and way out of character, even for a guy as nosey and curious as Hank can be sometimes.

He gets to dinner that evening his usual time, right in the middle when people are too invested with their own meals and friends to pay Hank any mind, but the line is already pretty much gone. He gets his food, sits down, then starts eating. Still no Connor, but it’s not his problem anymore. It wasn’t his problem to begin with, actually.

The next day goes smoothly. Lunch/breakfast is normal, and he gets dinner just fine. It only becomes less fine after he starts eating, though. He barely gets three bites into his meatballs when some asshat decides to sit in front of him.

It’s the fuckin’ light version of Connor from the hallway yesterday, whatever the fuck his name is.

He wouldn’t have been able to hold back the growl of annoyance even if he wanted to. “The fuck do you want?”

“Have you asked Connor any questions? Or brought up any topics to speak about with him?”

What in the fresh hell? “Do I look like the type of guy who likes to buddy up to people? He just kinda sits there–” Hank gestures to Connor’s spot “–and fidgets the whole damn time.”

Frosty the Glareman studies Hank for a few long moments. He must find something– or the absence of something– that makes him finally shake his head slowly and back off.

“No, you don’t. I apologize for taking up your time then, Mr. Anderson. Have a good day.”

The only way Hank could describe his current emotion is “???”. He has absolutely no clue what just happened or why it had to happen in the first place, and now he’s just going to up and leave just as quickly as he sat down?

“What? That’s it? I don’t even get to know why it was so important to ask me that?”

The young man hesitates. “Connor’s just been in a mood dip recently, as I call it. I know that he doesn’t dislike being around you, so I was simply clarifying that you didn’t accidentally worsen this dip. I’ll let you get back to your dinner, now. Good evening.”

A mood dip? What the fuck does that mean?

Hank thinks he gets that answer during lunch the next day.

“Holy shit, you look like a walkin’ corpse.” Hank comments upon seeing Connor limp towards his seat on the other side of the table. “The fuck happened to you?”

His skin is pale, he has dark bags under his eyes, but his eyes themselves, while shiny, aren’t red, so he probably hasn’t been crying recently. His normally styled hair is in complete disarray. He didn’t even take the time to put on his normal T-shirt with cargo pants and boots, instead opting for a tank top, sweatpants, and slip on shoes. Every single one of Connor’s movements are slow and sluggish, and every single one shows off some kind of bandage, scab, or bruise on his arms, shoulders, and neck area.

All in all, he looks like someone who might’ve been in too much pain to properly sleep. Although, that wouldn’t make sense with what Connor Lite told him yesterday and the kind of questions he asked. Curiouser and curiouser, indeed.

“I was just reminded of something unpleasant, is all. I shouldn’t even be affected by it, yet here I am.” Connor drops in his chair like a sack of potatoes. “Very affected and very drained.”

Then it finally properly clicks, what Connor version two meant by being in a mood, and why he came to Hank of all people to ask if he had anything to do with it. The poor kid probably hasn’t been up due to pain, but nightmares instead. Hank can’t stop himself from empathising with him, having just had that particularly nasty one just the night before.

“Well, you should get some fuckin’ sleep. Leavin’ the lights on help sometimes.”

Connor’s brows furrow in confusion before he slowly looks up at Hank, tilting his head in the process.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said you look like a walking corpse.” Hank states with pointedly raised eyebrows, not especially emotionally invested in what’s happening anymore. He turns to his food, instead.

“I have been sleeping.”

“Bullshit, but suit yourself.”

“I think all I did was sleep and try to sleep for the past 16 hours.”

Hank, a hypocrite who adores calling people out on their bullshit and proving them wrong, turns to face Connor, resting his elbow on the table and leaning on it.

“16 hours, huh? So what’dya do for the other 24 then? Hm?”

He watches Connor freeze for half a second before relaxing again with one of the most forced laughs Hank has ever heard. The panic doesn’t truly leave his eyes either.

“Ha ha, very funny. Ritch used to try to do that to me too.”

Hank . “Why is this funny? You literally disappeared for an entire day and a half then suddenly showed up again.” Hank brings his full attention back to his food with an annoyed shake of his head. “I thought you finally found some actual friends or somethin’. Damn.”

“...I missed another day…”

Hank barely catches that comment, since it was said under Connor’s breath, but it’s got enough emotion in it to make him want to look back over at the other mess of a human being at this table. He ends up giving in and doing it.

And a mess he is. Connor’s frozen with wide eyes that see through the table, his food seemingly forgotten in front of him. It’s extremely unsettling to see him completely still for a change. Just a few days ago, Hank would have prayed to the god he doesn’t believe in to make it stop, but stillness in this fashion screams “wrong” so much that it’s almost worse than the light, rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the table. Not that he’s gotten used to them, just that that would be more comfortable than the current tense inactivity.

“I missed an entire day of evaluations.” Connor says a bit louder.

That seems to spark something in the injured man because he abruptly goes straight as a board and starts frantically looking for something. It’s not until he catches what Connor’s muttering under his breath “...what time is it? What’s the date? Where’s the time? A clock? I need a clock–”

“It’s just past noon on the 17th.” Hank huffs an answer, immediately changing his mind on the stillness versus movement. Thankfully, Connor stops.

“Oh shit.” he whispers, Hank barely hearing it, “Oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m currently skipping evaluations, shit.” Connor quickly stands, somehow looking both more alert and more exhausted than ever before. “I am so fucked, oh no.” He grabs his untouched tray and gets up to walk away.

Hank may not like very many people, but he knows no good can come from not eating for at least 48 hours. He doesn’t think he would even let Gavin Reed, the selfish asshole, leave without trying to get something in his gut if the guy was in a position and mindset similar to Connor’s.

“Hey hey hey, woah.” Hank sits up straight and puts his hands on the table, making it look like he’s about to get up from his seat even though he has no real plans to, “You have to sit down and eat. You’re going to starve yourse–”

“I’ll be fine.” the trainee interrupts, not stopping. “I’ve gone longer without food. I just need a water bottle and I’ll be fine.”

“You will do no such thing.” Connor 2.0 appears, blocking the other’s way with a stern frown. “Mr. Anderson is right, you’re going to sit down and you’re going to eat.”

“Ritch,” Ah! That’s what his name was, “I’m not in the mood to play your games. I have things that need to be done so move out of my way.” Connor tries to sidestep Ritch, but he blocks him again.

“I’ve already informed Luther that you were going to be out of commission until further notice. Did you not get his note?”

“Yes I did, but it’s not him I’m worried about. There are higher ups that are watching us and I can’t afford to miss any more–”

“Connor.” Ritch growls, it even takes Hank off guard for half a moment. He’s mildly impressed. “You will sit and you will eat, or so help me Markus and I will pin you down while Simon spoon feeds you. I don’t care if you’ve lasted longer without food before. You didn’t really have a choice then. You will not start doing this again. I refuse it.”

Upon seeing Connor’s returning glare, Hank quickly changes his opinion of him from being the polite fool to someone who could easily hold his own when needed. Well, he still is too much of a people pleaser, but at least he doesn’t seem to take any shits when he really doesn’t want to.

“Ritch, move–”

“Your brother’s right, Connor.” Hank stares Connor down. The older man has thankfully been desensitized to death glares over the past few years, otherwise he would have been in trouble just now. “And I promise you that if Luther understands, then so does anyone else watching. He’s probably the most strict with these rules since he’s ��passionate’ about his job or some bullshit like that. Now sit the fuck down ‘cause you’re making me tense with all this nonsense and I already haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

Connor glances between the two of them before huffing and sitting back in his usual seat. Ritch sends a warning glare at Connor– which the latter retaliates with a huff and a slight eye roll– then nods at Hank and retreats back to his table. Before he can even sit down, though, Hanks’s own table starts being slightly jostled. One glance towards Connor proves it’s him and his damn leg bouncing again. Although, as much as Hank wants to snap at him to stop, even he can recognise that Connor needs people to be less harsh with him right now.

“Connor, you’re leg’s bouncing.”

No response.

“Connor.” Hank tries again louder.

Connor starts muttering to himself then puts his head in his hands, his fingers combing through his own hair in an unconscious way. Hank can’t help but empathize with the poor guy. Hank’s been in a similar state of mind before, but not when he was this young. Actually, now that Hank’s thinking about it, he may still have the stuff that helped him all that time ago, just out of reluctance to clean his bunker.

“Connor!”

The young man jumps and turns his head to Hank so fast the older man wonders if he got any sort of whiplash. Connor’s eyes suddenly widen and he goes mostly still and refocuses his attention on his food tray almost robotically.

“Right, right. Food. No fidgeting. Have to eat. Need calories to train.” Connor takes a breath, shakes his head as if physically clearing the thoughts in his head, then says under his breath, “Real jaeger pilots aren’t like this. I was trained to be better. Stupid stupid stupid…”

This is an entire level or two worse than Hank originally thought, but he’s pretty sure the things he has could still help. What surprises Hank the most is that he’s actually almost wanting to help this guy out just for the sake of it. Although, he rationalises, it’s probably because Hank had been in a mindset similar to his at one point in time, and can remember exactly how it felt to be that overwhelmed and in over his head. What he can’t rationalise, is the proud feeling at being able to maybe make this guy’s day easier.

All he knows is this guy obviously doesn’t have any friends to lean on yet, and Hank’s gonna do something to maybe make this easier on him.

...Hank was kind of hoping that if he restated it he could bullshit a reason for doing it in the first place. Apparently not. Going with the old “blindly following his gut” thing, now, huh? Whatever. He’s deciding to not care anymore right now.

He heaves a sigh, interrupting Connor’s uninterpretable muttering. “Alright, take whatever food may be appetizing to you later and let’s go.” He stands up and starts taking his mostly empty tray to where it belongs, throwing out the trash on it.

“Go? Go where? If I’m gonna leave I’m going to go class–”

“Well why don’t you just shut up and just follow me. Unless you don’t want anything that could maybe possibly help with this–” he gestures to Connor, “–fuckin’ disaster you are right now.”

Connor gets up quickly at that, “Things like that exist? Really?” He starts stuffing the pre-packaged items of his lunch into his pockets

“You live under a rock or something?” Hank is already losing his patience. This is a mistake.

“Well, my– uh… My trainer, I guess you could call her, didn’t really like that I was limited, and she didn’t like us getting help for something we could fix on our own even more ‘cause we aren’t weak. And we didn’t really have a social life or anything growing up, either, ‘cause we’ve always been kept busy..” Connor takes a deep breath, “So yeah, I guess I have lived under a rock until recently.”

Whoever this bitch is, she sounds like a down right asshole. Hell, even Gavin wouldn’t go that far with anyone and he’s him. When Hank says as much to Connor as they travel through the reinforced halls, Connor splutters.

“She– I– Well–” He finally gives up with a sigh. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

Hank doesn’t give a response.

The rest of the trip is spent in silence, and by the time they make it to Hank’s bunker, the small portion of food Connor brought with him is gone. That’s a good sign at least. Really good. Hank puts in the code to his door and cracks it open, then turns to the anxious man (even though he’s hiding it really well now, Hank can still see the signs of it) behind him.

“If I give these to you, you have to promise to try to find other people to hang out with. Got it? I ain’t friend material.”

“I beg to differ, but if it will put you more at ease then I will try harder to find other people who will put up with me.” As if on cue, his foot starts tapping and he starts picking at his fingers less-than-subtly.

“Try harder? You’ve already been trying?”

Connor shuffles a bit in place, “Yes, but I’m not good at making friends like Ritch is. I’ve always either made a fool of myself or blended into the background.” He looks up sharply. “Which is okay! I’m used to doing things on my own by now. And now I’m talking too much again, I apologize.” he lowers his eyes again.

“Huh. Well, you better come inside so that asshat Reed doesn’t see you hangin’ around here and decide to try an’ pick a fight.” Hank says as he opens the door to his room, waving Connor in. It’s not like he has anything to hide, it’s just his dirty clothes and the empty bottles of various alcohol bottles all over the floor.

He immediately shuts the door once Connor fully enters. Ignoring the other man, Hank gets straight to trying to find his old weighted blanket and stress ball. He’s been wanting to get rid of them anyway, and if they can help a possible future comrade, then good. Hank pauses in his search when he hears a bit of shuffling and turns to Connor… who is neatly moving all of the empty bottles on his floor into a pile in the corner of the room.

“What’re you doing?” There’s no anger in his tone, only pure confusion.

Connor freezes, then immediately drops the two bottles he had in his hands as if he didn’t realise what he was doing.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson,” he straightens up, “I just didn’t want the bottles to break and have you cut your feet, but this is your room and I shouldn’t have touched it. It’s my bad, sorry.” his fidgeting is getting worse again.

“Cleaning an alcoholic’s empty bottles off of his floor is hardly something to apologise for. Just wonderin’ why you felt the need to.” Hank returns to his search, just looking for the stress ball now, with the blanket folded on the floor by his feet. “You aren’t my maid or anythin’.”

“Oh. It’s just a habit, I suppose.”

Hank kneels down to better search the bottom drawer, “Habit? You one of those losers with the squeaky clean rooms growin’ up?”

A moment passes in silence, then Connor speaks with a cautious tone in his voice. “Is it not normal to have a clean room as a child?”

“Uh, not really.” Hank finally pulls out the dull-from-age stress ball and puts it on top of the navy blue blanket that may or may not have a few visible stains on it. Probably from where his old dog drooled or chewed something on it years ago and Hank gave up trying to wash the slobber out. God, he fuckin’ misses Sumo.

“Oh. Um…”

Connor looks like he wants to ask something but is hesitating, and Hank is officially running out of patience. He wants this man out of his room as soon as possible. Yes, Hank’s being somewhat bipolar recently, but can you blame him? This has been a rollercoaster of week so far, and he’s willing to bet that next week won’t be much different. He tried to go with the flow, but now he just wants his regularly scheduled life back please and thank you.

“What?” Hank finally snaps.

“Uh– What kind of things do people use to make their spaces cluttered? Like, pleasantly cluttered.” Connor rushes out.

What in the? “I’m sorry?”

Connor looks down at his hands, which he’s tightly wringing together, “Like, do normal people actually hang papers on the wall with tacks that make holes everywhere? It seems inconvenient to use when there are other, non-damaging methods of hanging things up.”

Did he really not have any normal friends growing up? What the hell.

“Well, uh, it was just me and Ritch for as long as I can remember, so…” Shit, he must’ve said that out loud. “Oh! But there was this one kid named Ross we were acquainted with when we were eight years old and he was nice. It’s probably why he got adopted almost immediately. I hope he’s happy now.” Connor finishes genuinely with a small smile on his face. It disappears quickly though, “And I’m talking a lot again. I apologize.”

“Why the fuck do you do that?”

“I don’t know. I just answer a question and then it reminds me of something else and I guess I haven’t learned how–”

“No no, not the talking itself. Why are you fucking constantly apologizing for talking a bit more after answering a question? It’s kinda more annoying than the talking itself.”

Connor freezes. “Oh. Oh…” He looks around, obviously caught off guard. “Uh, only friends talk to each other as freely as I tend to want to talk to people. Or that’s how I’ve grown up being taught, anyway. And you’ve implied plenty of times that you’re not interested in becoming friends, even though I personally think you would make an adequate friend, but I digress again.”

How the hell does Hank respond to this?

First thing to unpack, when this guy said that he didn’t have a social life earlier, he literally meant that he didn’t to the extent that he didn’t even realise messy rooms were a thing. Messy rooms of all things! That’s like, the most iconic part of being a teenager! And if he didn’t even know that, then that means he didn’t have any social medias or a TV growing up either, because that fact is literally all over every type of media there is.

That also brings up the point that whoever raised him did a real shit job at it, because who the hell believes people can only talk amicably to friends? How the fuck does someone make friends if they’re not allowed to talk freely with other people until the friendship title has been officially earned?

Hank’s sure he could go on bashing this so-called “parental figure” Connor had growing up, but he doesn’t particularly want to spend any more time thinking about it right now. If he did, that would mean he actively cares about the kid, when in reality he’s just concerned about how little he knows and how little help he’s been getting for his very real problems, just as any half-decent human being would.

Secondly (Or is this thirdly? Hank’s lost count already), this poor, misguided kid thinks he of all people would make an acceptable friend. What. The. Hell. He understood Connor doesn’t really get certain social clues even before all this ‘being sheltered’ shit spilled today, but Hank thought he was better than this. What part of Hank’s old, unkept, very-out-of-shape self mixed with scowls, growls, groans, and complaints told Connor “Hey, this old man wouldn’t be horrible to befriend!”. Even with the fact that he used to look up to Hank during his old jaeger years, the young man should have realised after the two days of sitting with him that it wasn’t worth it.

“Why are you so convinced I’d make a good friend?” is all Hank says out loud.

Connor looks surprised by that, then quickly turns his head away in obvious contemplation. He looks back a moment or two later with a kind determination Hank hasn’t seen since Jeffery last told him that he’d try his best to help Hank. Hell, even his best friend and copilot of many years couldn’t put up with his shit anymore. What makes this trainee think he could?

“I’m gonna give you the long, blunt truth because you seem like the one person around here that I don’t have to sugarcoat or say anything gently for. If I start talking too much, just tell me to shut up.” He takes a breath, then, when Hank says nothing, he continues determinedly. “I think you’re lonely without realizing it. I know I was before I got here and was forced to be around a lot of people. And it might be a lot of self-projecting onto the first person I’ve regularly hung around, but I think it’s true for you, even if you don’t know or believe it.

“You already know that I used to follow your work as a jaeger pilot– you, Marshal Fowler, and the Gerund brothers were my inspiration and motivation, really– and I also know that you don’t really have any friends left because you’ve changed so much since then and they always expected you to go back to your old self, even though that’s impossible.” He pauses briefly, visibly contemplating how to word something. “People keep accusing me of wanting to ‘fix’ or ‘change’ you, but I honestly don’t. Well, it’d be better for you altogether if you drank less, but I can’t control what you do and I won’t try to. You’re a grown man who can take care of himself, and even if you couldn’t, it’d probably be hypocritical of me to lecture you about healthy coping mechanisms.

“I mean, honestly, I’m just looking for someone to sit down with and not have to worry about watching every little thing I say during conversations so people don’t get any more nosy than they already are. Plus, it just gets exhausting being around the other people around here because I’m so used to being able to sink into the background and be forgotten when I want, and the people around here won’t let me. And from what I’ve gathered, you don’t like the people here for a similar reason; they either completely ignore you or won’t leave you alone.” Connor takes a breath. When Hank doesn’t say anything because he’s too busy processing what’s been said so far, Connor presses on, less confident this time.

“I know a friendship can’t thrive upon disliking the presence of other people by itself, but I feel like it could maybe start one. I don’t know what you were like before, and quite frankly I don’t really care. People change all the time, and that version of you is in the past, for better or for worse. You just have to make do with what and who you are now.” The younger man looks down to his feet. ”I don’t know about you, but I hate it when people start treating me differently when they find out about my… previous lifestyle and unique experiences, growing up.” He shrugs and looks up to Hank.

“You don’t. You’re the only one who hasn’t and doesn’t expect anything special out of me in return. And I try to make it a habit to not treat people differently either. Unless, of course, they’re a cold-blooded murderer or something, then yea, I probably would treat them a bit differently, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t, so…” Connor finishes with a small, awkward smile.

Well if that wasn’t a speech and a half… Hank feels like he’s been saying this constantly these past few days, but once again, what the actual fucking hell. Connor has spent just about two days total with Hank, and yet he clearly understands him more than even most of the coworkers he’s had for years. He doesn’t know whether to be disappointed in his group of acquaintances as well as his therapists, impressed that Connor doesn’t have his head up his ass like almost everyone else, or worried that Connor’s already correctly guessed this much about him in almost no time.

Hank decides he feels a mixture of all three, plus a weird sense of concern for the man in front of him. He spoke like he has personally experienced horrors, and his two day disappearance just because he was– how’d he word it? “Reminded of something unpleasant”?– proves that he probably has. If Hank has figured anything out about Connor these past few days, it’s that he greatly downplays any and everything pertaining to himself. For fuck’s sake, this guy had no concerns over being beaten almost to a pulp by his own brother. Yet, then again, said brother wasn’t looking too hot himself, either…

What exactly happened to him during his– how old was he? 26? That almost sounds right– 26 years of existence that he would so clearly understand the mentality of someone who’s been through hell and back?

Hank holds out his arms to give Connor the weighted blanket and stress ball and opens his mouth to briefly explain what they are. He doesn’t have a single clue why the next question comes out of his mouth instead.

“How old are you again?”

To be fair, Connor looks about as surprised as Hank feels right now. “Nearly 23 years old.”

Twenty-fuckin’-three. This guy standing in front of him, who looks like the biggest brown-nosing pushover, but can pack a very mean and very solid punch and can conjure up a glare so harsh and deadly it could make some grown-ass-men cower. Connor, who made it into this training program with very little effort and could– and probably will– skyrocket to the top of his class if what Jeffery briefly said about him and his twin the other day is true, is only fucking 23 years old.

On top of that, didn’t Connor mention an orphanage and a stepmother? If that’s the case, then it means his original family is long gone and he wasn’t adopted out until after he turned at least eight. That’s fifteen years ago… around five to ten years after the kaijus started coming, right when permanent defenses finally started becoming a necessary integration to all shorelines and not just the rich ones. The chances of him having lost his family during those first waves are extremely high.

God damn, Connor really didn’t have a childhood, did he? Fuckin’ hell, that’s just downright depressing. Even though Hank had it rough growing up, he could still say that he had plenty of time to fuck around as a kid.

Well, Connor was right about one of many things, Hank isn’t going to be giving him any special treatment beyond this mother fucking stress ball and heavy-ass blanket, that’s for sure. He’s got a reputation of being an asshole to keep up, after all. He doesn’t want people to think that just anyone can come up and talk to him or ask him for and about stuff now, would he? Hank has made that mistake only once in the past few years.

“Alright, fucker, you got me. Whoopty doo.” Hank starts sarcastically. “Just don’t spread whatever you think of me around too much, I got enough problems to deal with as it is.”

“Yes, of course Mr. Anderson. I don’t very much like it when rumors spread about me, so I won’t be doing anything of the sort for as long as I can help it, and never when involving you.” Hank can almost imagine him as a puppy with how easily and happily Connor’s agreeing with him.

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said you needed to find other friends.”

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d try harder to make them.” A pause. “And I won’t force you into an acquaintanceship with me either. If you really dislike me hanging around, then I can always find another private place to sit during meals.”

Hank opens his mouth to confirm that he does, indeed, dislike Connor’s presence, finally given a way to get rid of the main disturbance in his life recently. Yet, he finds he can’t. Looking past the fidgeting and essay answers to most questions asked, Hank surprisingly hasn’t found much else to truly hate about him. A lot of said answers seem rehearsed and robotic or sarcastic, but Hank can tell he’s been genuine, or at least has been trying to be. That, and while most people who are open books normally come off as in-your-face and annoying, Connor’s an open book in a way that he doesn’t broadcast anything, but doesn’t try to hide much when asked by someone he’s comfortable with, either. Hank can tell this because he used to know someone exactly like this and can already see the patterns.

Those types of people generally make the best pilots, in his experience.

In the end, Hank just silently holds out the blanket in his arms again instead of saying anything. Connor glances back and forth between the other’s face and the blanket in his arms, and hesitantly reaches out as if Hank’s going to snatch it away from him at the last moment. Hank begins explaining what they are, seeing that Connor probably has no fucking clue what these actually are and what they’re meant for.

“This is a weighted blanket. The box and company will tell you it’s supposed to make you feel safe or like someone’s hugging you or some shit like that, but honestly it just feels like someone laid a flexible mattress over you or something, which can kinda feel nice when you’re having a bad day for some weird reason. I dunno how to fucking explain this shit so just take it.” He does. Hank points to the squishy ball on top of the blanket. “That thing is a stress ball. You squish it, pull it, throw it, do whatever the fuck you want with it. It’s designed to not break unless you’re purposefully trying to. It never really did shit for me, but you fidget all the god-damned time so it’ll probably do somethin’ for you. You’re welcome.” Hank huffs the last part, having to put minimal effort into seeming grumpy, as opposed to no effort, for the first time in ages.

Connor looks at the old, tattered blanket and ancient, somewhat stretched-out stress ball (from the amount of times Hank hurled it at the walls in sudden bursts of rage) like it was the best thing in the whole damned world. He shifts the blanket onto one arm as if it weighed the same as an average throw blanket and not 15 pounds (around 7 kg), give or take, and uses his now free hand to give the stress ball a test squish. All in all, Connor really shouldn’t have that amazed and grateful look on his face for two old and very used items.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Anderson. I greatly appreciate this. Thank you.” He looks up from his stuff to Hank, “I’ll take care of them and bring them back in the same condition you gave them to me in.”

“Give them back?– Connor.” he deadpans, “I’m fuckin’ giving these to you. Permanently. I’ve been needing to get rid of them anyway, and you sure as hell could use them if what happened before is even somewhat a normal thing that happens.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, Hank realises a tad too late.

Connor’s changes from gracious and happy to anxious yet calculating in the blink of an eye.

“I still need to catch up on evaluations.” He starts stepping backwards, somehow expertly avoiding anything he could trip on despite not actually being able to see them. “Thank you very much for these Mr. Anderson, but I’ve really got to go. I have a lot I need to do. A lot. So thank you, I’ll get out of your hair now.” Connor opens the door. “Goodbye.” And he’s gone.

...why does his room seem so quiet and cluttered now?

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Ritch releases a large, mental sigh of relief when Connor enters the room during their current written evaluation. When he watched Connor blindly follow Mr. Anderson out of the food court area before actually eating anything earlier, it took both Josh and North gently holding him back and talking him down so he wouldn’t hunt down the pair. He’s glad they succeeded in calming him down, though, because whatever Mr. Anderson said or did very obviously calmed Connor down, and judging by the empty wrapper sticking out of his pocket, he even got his stubborn brother to eat something.

Maybe Hank isn’t too much of an incompetent asshole after all. Yes, he’s still obviously constantly grumpy and drinks way too much alcohol, but maybe one half of the rumors and stories aren’t quite true. Either that or maybe Connor simply latched onto him much faster that Ritch originally thought, and is now somehow charming the old man into not despising him by using his stupid puppy eyes. It’s likely a mixture of both, now that he’s thinking about it.

No one can quite interpret what’s being said between Luther, Chloe, and Connor, but seeing his brother’s pleading expression along with the instructors’ stern ones with undertones of concern, they’re most definitely making him wait until tomorrow to continue evaluations. He still looks like a complete wreck, after all, with his sleeping clothes still on and disastrous mop of hair.

Ritch forces himself back to the boring and simple exam even though he finished a few minutes ago. He even purposefully marked a few of the questions wrong just as he and Connor planned, but he’s currently waiting for at least two other people to finish before he turns his in. Connor then quietly leaves with a pleasant farewell to the two instructors, and the room is plunged back into silence once more.

Precisely 24 minutes later, Ritch can’t take sitting in the silence with nothing to do any longer while his brother is off doing who knows what right now. Plus, he’s pretty sure Luther and Chloe have booth figured out by now that he hasn’t actually been writing anything down for a while. He gets up and is the first one to turn the evaluation in. Ritch most certainly does not think about how Amanda would be disappointed in him for not being able to sit still for any longer because Amanda no longer has any control over his life. What is she going to do? Somehow hack into the cameras, see him giving in, then fly all the way over here just to punish him for being weak?

Ritch also does not think about how that doesn’t sound completely outlandish and bizarre for some of Amanda’s standards. That woman is frightening when she wants to be.

Instead, Ritch focuses on how, upon entering his bunker, he hears the shower running in their little bathroom. That means Connor is officially out of his funk. This is significant because the event he was directly reminded of normally causes the worst dips by far. The last time someone asked about it, he refused to come out of his room for just over four days, and Ritch had to smuggle snack foods and water bottles into their shared room (where it wasn’t allowed due to carpeting and bedding) just to keep him from starving and dehydrating.

Maybe Ritch was right to begin with, maybe being away from that environment really is helping Connor after all. He truly is a talented and smart guy, Amanda just didn’t particularly like how he puts his heart on his sleeve, since that could get him or others hurt. Ritch wants to believe that she didn’t mean to break Connor like this, but another part whispers that she may have purposefully broken both of them long ago in order to make them soldiers; that they had just found different ways of coping and played different roles in the games she called ”training”.

Connor will show her. He doesn’t believe it now, but he’s quite strong in his own way. What kind of person can say they’ve been through what Connor has and still remain so reluctant to become bitter and reclusive. Hank can’t, that’s for sure. Even Ritch can’t quite say he can, either. It’s only because of Connor’s constant desire for genuine friendship and connection that Ritch had even tried talking to Markus and the group in the first place. If his brother had no part in what Ritch thinks and how he behaves, he would spend most if not all of his free time in their room.

Connor doesn’t realise, let alone believe it now, but it takes a special kind of bravery to put oneself out there, especially when one’s mind constantly screams every imperfection about themselves like Connor’s seems to do.

Ritch calmly places the sleeping oil his brother uses to remain unconscious during his mood dips back where it belongs. He doesn’t think that Connor knows that he knows he uses it, but there’s no way Ritch wouldn’t have after all these years of sharing a room and storage space with him. Plus, the amount of times he’s had to hide these little bottles from Amanda to save Connor’s forgetful ass when he leaves it out is far too many. Now Ritch only puts it away out of habit, and some part of him knows that it will likely put Connor more at ease knowing the bottle was hidden away for one reason or another, away from where anyone could see it.

Ritch also notes the… well loved ball and the stained blanket placed on the desk. He wonders if Mr. Anderson had anything to do with those, since Luther would have given any gifts at the same time as the note he wrote for Connor the other day, and these are clearly a new addition to the room. If the older man actually did have anything to do with those, then he’ll have to thank him at some point in the near future.

Maybe, just maybe, Connor is right. Maybe Hank Anderson really isn’t as horrible and unpredictable as people say, and maybe Connor really isn’t looking to bring him back to how he was during his “glory” days.

Maybe… Maybe he won’t get between the two of them for now. Just for now.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~> Masterlist <~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Heyo guys! Another chapter out, whoot whoot!! So, I don’t have much to say except this chapter was kind of boring, but it’s a stepping stone for what’s to come in the future so please bear with me 😅 Next chapter will feature Gavin and Ritch!! (even though it may still be kinda dull compared to the last chapter 😅) I feel like I’ve been focusing on Connor a lot since the beginning of this fic, but that’s only because that’s how it has to work out in my evil master plans Mwahaha!

Anyway, The next thing I’ll be posting is actually the first chapter of a Hankcon fic I had planned, Cat Out of the Bag, and that will be coming very soon! I already have more than half of it written! Thank you for reading and leaving comments! I may not respond to everyone, but I read everything! Y’all are the best 💖

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darling-archeron · 6 years

Text

No Peace for the Wicked

After returning from Under the Mountain, more demons haunt Rhys than he realizes when he has a panic attack in front of the inner circle.

AN: This contains a darker Rhys then I’ve written before, one very much haunted by his past. I might eventually expand this into a second part.

TW for a panic attack and allusions to rape.

Rhys had missed the city more than he thought possible.

It was the little things that still surprised him, the memories that had slipped away over fifty years. The creaky floorboard on the second floor. The mysterious yowling cat that was always heard but never seen.

Most of all, he had missed the people – his family in particular.

Though that sentimental feeling was wearing a bit thin, considering they were twenty minutes late for a meeting Amren had called.

If he didn’t know better, he would have though his thoughts summoned her as the clacking of bracelets announced his Second’s arrival.

“You’re late.” He commented lightly.

She strode through the room and gracefully plunked down on her usual armchair. “I knew the others would be tardy, and I didn’t feel like sitting around and waiting for them to show up.”

Rhys felt one side of his mouth quirk up. Reaching for the geometric-patterned plate on the table, he picked a scone off it, that smile his only reply.

Several minutes passed before Cassian and Azriel wandered in. Both helped themselves to a generous amount of the blueberry scones. Rhys rolled his eyes.

“Amren was right – I should have told you two to be here to be here thirty minutes earlier than we planned on starting. Two military officials such as yourselves certainly ought to be able to arrive at a friendly gathering on time.”

Cassian snorted. “I had business to attend to. Is that what this is? Are we having family sharing time now?”

Rhys jerked his head in Amren’s direction. “Is that why you called this meeting, dear Second? Not spending enough quality time with your favorite fae?”

“I was waiting for Mor, but if you must know –“

Her words went unheard by Rhys as he caught a whiff of something from the street – something so familiar it caused him physical pain.

It wasn’t just the aroma that he felt like a blow to the chest. No, it was because of how it had been expertly blended into an expensive perfume.

Cassian was staring at him in concern as Rhys sprang from his seat.

He had laid next to a female covered in that scent for fifty years, and he could never get the sweet scent of warm vanilla. So sickeningly saccharine, you could be suffocated by it.

The caress of a hand against of a chest, soft and gentle as a butterfly.

And now Amarantha had come to Velaris, to wreak vengeance upon him. Rhys wouldn’t let her touch this place. The moment he found her – a misting would be a mercy. She had tortured and killed and made everyone suffer unspeakable torment. She had made some part deep inside of him become just as twisted and broken as that bone jutting out of Feyre’s arm. The bone he had pulled and twisted at to hurt her, manipulate her.

He could feel that broken part rearing its ugly head now, straining to release the darkness and molten wrath inside of him. His head was spinning and breathing quickening as he wrestled with that blind panic and rage.

He would destroy her.

There was no mercy in him. Just as there was no peace for the wicked.

A red, serpentine smile.

Rhysand’s talons slid out, wings unfurling as he turned, searching for her. The motion made his wings hit the giant spray of flowers on the coffee table, shattering the red vase into shards that looked like beads of blood.

Claws slicing out of delicate, pale hands and carving into the tattoos on a bare chest. Drops of blood glimmered off them as they were retracted.

Perhaps ten seconds had passed since he first scented that gut wrenching vanilla, but with every moment, more and more of his beast form revealed himself. The distant part of Rhys – the part that had managed to remain less damaged, somehow – recognized how macabre and twisted this part of him looked. Especially when compared to the city’s serenity. But that part in Rhysand was miles away, going farther as the rage mounted with every heave of his chest.

A dark hiss of pain that barely managed to turn into a bedroom murmur.

Cassian and Azriel were both on their feet now, eyes narrowed and assessing the situation. He could feel their siphons humming as they drew magic up. Amren was saying something her couldn’t hear. They didn’t see, they didn’t know -

“Show yourself.” His voice was one that haunted a thousand nightmares. Unleashing his magic fully, Rhysand sent stalks of power to course through the city and find her.

They didn’t get far, because she – Amarantha – was directly outside his home.

She had made so close to the heart of his city.

A guttural snarl with nothing good in it tore through Rhysand’s throat, and quicker than lightning he had vanished from the table and winnowed to the front steps. His shadow-wreathed talons closed around her tan throat. Not too hard – he didn’t want to shatter bones or draw blood just yet. The talons snagged on tendrils of golden hair, and he relished the cry that came from her lips. Good. Good that she felt even this little pain, there would be infinitely more to come –

Golden hair.

Golden – golden hair. He had held her for not even a second, but as he loosened his grip in shock, Cassian sped out of the townhouse, tackling Rhysand and tearing him away. At the same moment, the woman sent an immense blast of power from herself, knocking Cassian and Rhys backwards.

Cassian remained standing. But the force of that power – mighty enough to cleave stone – was enough to bring Rhys to his knees as his vision cleared.

Morrigan. It was only Morrigan.

She stepped away from him, chest heaving and eyes dark.

Around the neighborhood, neighbors had dropped their work and were staring. The Demon Lord never showed his fae in Velaris – it was always Rhys here. Even his father had never lost control like this in the city.

Azriel raised his hands, siphons creating a shield around the yard that doubled as a glamour of invisibility and silence.

Amren turned to him with a furious expression her face. It didn’t go unnoticed by him how she had angled herself in front of Mor – though his cousin was more than capable of protecting herself.

“What in the damn bloody pits of hell, Rhysand?” she demanded, silver eyes flashing. He didn’t have an answer for her. His breath was calming and the world had become quiet and it was becoming so clear to him what he had done….Cauldron, what had he done -

Mor stepped up beside her and held up a hand to calm Amren. He could sense magic humming around her, ready to defend herself from him at any moment. She was still breathing hard, the sides of her neck still red.

Rhys’s beast form was reverting back to High Fae as he steadied his breathing. Feathers turned back to skin, razor-sharp teeth became blunted once more. But he didn’t say a word, couldn’t answer any of their questions as he turned his eyes back to the ground. He slammed his hand – still ended in talons, not finders – into the cement, hard enough to break something. The cement shook and cracked beneath his palm.

Still, the scent burned his nose.

So sickeningly sweet.

They were all still waiting, wanting an explanation. So he choked out the only few words he could manage.

“I am….so sorry, Mor.”

Amren didn’t give Mor a chance to answer. “Why.”

“That perfume…it was the same kind she used.”

“Amarantha.” Cassian said quietly.

Rhys didn’t – couldn’t - respond. Never before had anyone in the Inner Circle seen him quite like this. Raging on the battlefield as he cut down enemies with sharp precision, yes. Devastated at the sight of two boxes floating down the river, yes. But never quite this….wild fury that came loose so quickly from its trappings.

It was a beast that had prowled under his skin ever since the war, brought to life to protect his people. In the years after, it had been content to sleep in the back of his conscience. But the darkness of that Mountain had fed it and made it fester and morph into something else.

He had never let them see him anywhere close to this – not that it had ever gotten this bad. But even half of this….who would want to bother with this broken mess he had become?

Mor, perhaps, could have accepted it. Cauldron knew she had her own monsters. But everything about this had been so wrong – she was looking at him the same way she looked at Keir.

Rhys’s chest shuddered. He had attacked her. It was vile and loathsome, and the shame was flooding through him. But not quite enough to erase the memory of the black fury coursing through his veins.

Not enough to erase the feel of that hand on his chest.

Nor for the talons to ease back into his skin.

Rhys was silent for quite some time, fingers holding that crumbled cement and crushing it into dust. The whole time, he imagined he had ground her bones to dust.

Wishing he had killed her the first day he met her. A thought that would haunt the rest of his existence.

There was no peace for the wicked.

There was no peace for him.

#my writing #kate's writing #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #rhysand #rhys #cassian #mor #amren #azriel #fanfic #fic #acotar fic #rhys fic #angst #dark!rhys #kat's writing

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raywritesthings · 6 years

Text

A Slight Detour

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: The Doctor and Donna take a drive. Written for @basmathgirl based off this photo. Slightly NSFW AO3 link

“You rented a car?”

“I did, yes.” The Doctor nodded to the vehicle in question, a big vintage one in a blue that hurt the eyes to look at for too long.

Donna continued to stare anyway. “What for?”

“I thought we could take it out for a spin. You always say we never get to see the sights.”

“So you went and rented a car. And — is that a basket? What, are we doing a picnic now?”

“Maybe?” He was rubbing at the back of his neck. “We don’t have to. I just thought it’d be nice.”

That wasn’t the first time he’d said that in recent memory. It seemed like a lot of their trips were being geared towards nice places, lovely sights, and pleasant company. At least until they inevitably found trouble.

But it was like he’d been going out of his way lately to find these places. Ever since that trip to the 1920s...which was probably best not to dwell on, considering what had happened between them there. She was sure he’d put it out of his mind already, even if things had seemed different since then. And now this!

She’d been suspicious, of course, when he’d practically been bouncing in his seat at breakfast that morning. That had only grown when he’d suggested she might want to stop by the wardrobe room before they disembarked for the day.

The TARDIS had helpfully laid something out for her that wouldn’t have looked out of place on her Gran in some of the very old photo albums of her and Gramps in their youth. Donna had turned this way and that in front of the mirror, watching the pale blue skirt fan out. Things were not as billowy up top.

“The 50s really were the heyday of curvy girls,” she’d noted to herself while eying the scoop neckline. “Look, have you got something a little less showy up here?”

The TARDIS hadn’t even given so much as a hum in reply.

“Oh, thanks.”

She’d decided to just head out to the console room. If Spaceman hadn’t wanted to get an eyeful of her cleavage today he shouldn’t have recommended his finicky ship.

But he hadn’t been in the console room. “Doctor!” Donna had called.

A horn had honked outside in reply, and she’d stepped out of the doors to find him and their borrowed transport for the day.

“What do you think?” He’d asked. Which had led them to here.

What did she think? Aside from being totally surprised. He’d gone to all this effort to give her a quiet little trip just the two of them. As much as she enjoyed meeting people from other places and times, she had to admit the idea had some merits.

And a picnic lunch. She’d always wanted to do one of those. Admittedly, whenever she’d pictured it, it had always been as a date. Which this certainly wasn’t. Best friends went and rented cars to just take their best friend out for a picnic all the time. Right?

The trouble was, she wasn’t entirely sure what they were anymore. That’s what happened when you snogged your mate.

Oh, what the hell. It wasn’t as if she was about to go hiking in these heels.

“Go on, then,” Donna said at last.

He beamed at her, taking her arm to lead her around to the passenger door which he opened for her. When he didn’t immediately shut it behind her, she turned in her seat to look at him just as his eyes jumped up to her face.

“You, um, you look lovely,” he said.

“You’ve said that before,” she reminded him, then winced. 1920s. So much for not thinking about it.

“Well, you were lovely then, too.”

She shook her head and reached for the door, but he placed his hand on hers. Her usual rebuke got stuck somewhere in her throat when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

“Really, Donna, you’re beautiful.”

Donna felt her cheeks warm under that sincere brown-eyed gaze. “Shall we get a move on?” She managed eventually.

“We shall,” he agreed, finally going back round the car to his side.

He really had picked a nice spot for a drive. The sun was out but warm rather than blazing, there was a light breeze, and the countryside was uninterrupted apart from the odd house here and there. She ought to have brought a camera to show Gramps. As long as no aliens cropped up, it would’ve even been safe to let her mum see.

They drove along winding roads with the windows down, chatting about practically anything the way they usually did. He’d been right, of course, this was nice. Like something out of a daydream, the ones she’d been having lately despite her best efforts.

Donna tried refocusing on something, anything else. She looked down as he shifted gears again, and then it hit her: Spaceman could drive.

“You’re not half bad at this,” she remarked out loud.

“Well, thank you.”

“But they can’t have had cars like this where you came from. When did you learn to drive?”

“Oh, it was ages ago. I don’t usually have a reason to put it to use. I did own a car back when I was with UNIT,” he told her. “She was a real vintage, though. Bright yellow.”

“What, like Noddy?” She couldn’t help asking.

“What is it about you and Noddy? Do you want to go visit Enid?” He glanced to her and grinned back when he noticed her teasing smile. “Hadn’t thought about Bessie in a while—”

“Bessie? Oh my God, did you name your car?”

“Well, why not?”

Donna was too busy laughing to answer.

“Donna,” said Spaceman.

“No, go on, I’m sorry,” she replied, not very sorry at all.

He shook his head but continued, “Hadn’t thought about her — I can hear you giggling, you know.”

Donna took her hand away from her mouth where she’d been trying to muffle the sound. “Sorry, I just had the thought, the Old Girl ought to count herself lucky!” She fell about laughing again, unable to help herself. Donna had used to hate how obnoxious her laugh sounded, but it didn’t seem to matter as much around the Doctor. He never thought her odd or unappealing for it.

Even now, he was smiling as he attempted to cajole her. “Donna.” He passed her a handkerchief to dab at her eyes where tears had started to leak out of the corners.

Donna took a deep, calming breath. “Okay, you hadn’t thought about Bessie in a while, till we were chasing down Agatha, I suppose?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, looking glad to be back on track. “That was good fun, wasn’t it? Apart from the murders, I mean.”

“Yeah, it’d be good to avoid those today.”

“Exactly, that was the plan. Just sort of pick up where we left off.”

He was staring straight ahead out the windshield, but there was something almost carefully casual about how he’d said it. Where exactly did he feel they’d left off? Not the actual drive to rescue Agatha, surely. Perhaps them simply arriving at the party out on the lawn, before things had gone sideways.

Unbidden, the memory of his heated gaze on her after the kiss rose to the forefront of her mind. But he couldn’t mean that. He’d even said he meant the detox about ever doing that again. Not her.

It didn’t matter that there was a picnic basket for two sitting in the footwell of the backseat, or that it was his handkerchief she was currently twisting around her fingers, or that just the recollection of that searing look sent a shiver of something down her spine. Excitement or fear, she didn’t know, but it had kept her up nights on the TARDIS ever since.

Donna cast about for the first thing she could say in diversion. “Why didn’t you just travel in the TARDIS when you were with UNIT?”

“I couldn’t exactly use her at the time,” he replied, which had Donna raising her eyebrows. “And anyway, it was easier not to for short trips like that. Some farmer would report seeing strange lights in the woods and we’d drive out from HQ, that sort of thing.”

Donna felt a bit relieved at that. So cars to him were just transport, a work thing. He probably didn’t even see the romantic implications of a ride out alone in the middle of nowhere.

“So you’ve never taken a pretty girl out for a drive just because?” She checked, if only for her own curiosity.

“Well, I believe that’s what I’m doing right now,” he replied far too smoothly for a man who was supposed to have just meant the detox.

Donna scoffed. Alright, now he had to be pulling her leg. Probably all smug she was getting worked up over nothing. “Yeah, well we’re not about to get up to any mischief in the backseat.”

Immediately she winced. Why had she even brought it up? There wasn’t any reason to bring it up. Now he might think she’d been thinking about it or something, and then what would he think?

All he did, however, was turn to her with his face all scrunched up in that manner that meant he wasn’t following. “Mischief?”

Oh, he was kidding. “You know,” she said with a pointed look.

“No, I don’t. What sort of mischief can you get up to sitting in the back?” He glanced behind them as if to check for such mischief. “There’s not even a gear shift.”

“Yeah, it’s less to do with sitting and more with lying down, Time Boy.”

“What, across the seats? I’m not sure we’d even fit,” he mused.

“Oi.” Donna’s eyes narrowed. “And just how do you know that?”

“Just an estimate. We could always test it, though,” the Doctor added, already turning them off of the road. He pulled them up alongside a fence made out of wooden posts and had barely shut off the car before he was hopping out.

Donna sat there a moment or two, needing the time to accept the fact that he actually wanted to do this. This was mental.

It took one of his customary calls of “Donna!” to get her moving.

When she finally got out of the car and went around, she was met with his trainers sticking out of the open door.

“See, I thought so. I’m too tall.” He shook his feet for extra emphasis, and Donna felt fairly certain he was probably wiggling his toes as well.

“Right, well, now we know.”

“So how exactly does this constitute mischief? You said we’re both supposed to be back here?”

“You really want to know?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer. He couldn’t stand not knowing things.

Sure enough, he gave a cheery, “Yep!”

Donna wasn’t about to actually go through with it. That wouldn’t be stretching the bounds of their friendship; that would be shattering it. Just a hint ought to be enough for a genius like him.

She placed a knee on the seat between his legs and leaned in, then gripped the headrest to keep herself balanced.

“So you’ve got two people and a horizontal surface. You do the maths.”

Donna meant to get right out and leave him to it, only when she shifted backwards her head knocked against the very low, very hard ceiling.

The following events all happened very fast.

“Ow!” Donna took her hand off the headrest, causing her to pitch forward, landing with a yelp from Spaceman underneath her. His legs jerked, one foot connecting with the door which swung out and then back in with the momentum before closing on them with a slam.

She buried her face in the nearest hiding place with a groan. “Seriously?”

Of course, that hiding place was the Doctor’s chest. Which was ridiculously comfy now that she had the chance to reflect on it. His hands went up to cradle her head, fingers threading through her hair with light touches. “Are you alright?”

It took her a long moment to realize that he was checking for a bump and not giving her an impromptu massage. Donna felt her cheeks heat up all over again.

“Uh, yeah, fine.”

Her mortification only grew as she took further stock of their situation.

She was straddling his thigh. Spaceman’s thigh. How had she let it get there? His legs were bent at awkward angles, which was causing the skirt of her dress to ride up past her knees. Donna didn’t think he could see that from his prone position.

But as she lifted her head from his chest and glanced down, she realized she was giving him a different view entirely.

“Donna,” the Doctor said as she shifted to bring her arms up. She paused, but he didn’t appear to have thought far enough ahead to the end of that sentence. His eyes were very wide and panicky. “Um.”

“Just keep those eyes on the ceiling, Time Boy,” she advised, far less stern than she might have ordinarily managed due to her embarrassment.

“Oh,” he realized, voice very quiet. She could feel his swallow as he did as ordered and Donna began to work tugging at the neckline of her dress.

She had to shuffle about a bit, doing a sort of wriggling maneuver to free up enough of the fabric on either side to make incremental gains. It’d be easier going if this didn’t involve her becoming well-acquainted with the very solid, very lean leg pressed between her own. Somehow the fact that it, well, felt rather good was not helping at all either. Was it her imagination or were the muscles in his leg tensing? Her breath was coming out in short puffs and gasps, and it was growing uncomfortably hot in the cramped space.

“Donna,” said the Doctor again, more urgently this time.

“What?” She snapped.

“It would be incredibly helpful if you could move around a bit less.”

“Oh, would it?” She gave a particularly exaggerated rock to one side just to spite him — then froze.

A choked sort of noise escaped him before he could slap a hand over his mouth, but it hardly mattered when she could feel the unmistakable stiffness poking into her thigh.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. It was a precarious moment, frozen between discovery and realization.

Was he really…?

The doubt rolled in, though Donna thought it more likely to be cold rationality. She was a warm body getting up close and personal with sensitive bits. Any bloke would have reacted, even an alien one. It was the situation, not her.

If anything, he was likely to be cross with her once he got over his embarrassment. “Doctor, I’m sorry,” said Donna, wanting to make amends as quickly as possible.

His eyes squeezed shut and his hand moved away from his mouth allowing him to speak. “Of course you are. Oh, this was not the plan at all.”

Donna paused, this time in the middle of trying to untangle their feet. “What plan?”

There was a red flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “The drive, the picnic. Trying to- to pick up where we left off.”

“Hold on.” It felt as though the entire universe had undergone a seismic shift, and Donna had to know, “Is this a date?”

“If you want it to be,” he said on a miserable sounding sigh. The Doctor cracked an eye open to meet her gobsmacked expression. “Look, Donna, just sit up, and I’ll drive us back, and we can pretend the whole thing never happened. Alright?”

But she couldn’t reply. She hadn’t sat up. The one sure way of avoiding this entire mess, and what had she done? Pretty much the exact opposite. God, she really had lost her head over him.

She dropped it back down to rest on his chest again as a snort escaped her, then a giggle.

“Donna?”

“We are so daft,” she managed breathlessly.

“We are?” He asked, sounding absolutely confused and a tiny bit scared.

Donna felt herself smile. She lifted her hands to his shoulders and used that hold to drag herself up the length of his body, which undid about all the work she’d put in to preserve her modesty. A fissure of excitement went through her upon noting that his interest down there didn’t seem to have flagged in the slightest.

“You do the maths yet?”

“Maths?”

Bless, she might have broken him.

“Yeah. You, me, a horizontal surface.” She thought she saw the answer spark in his eyes the second before she kissed him.

God, it felt like ages since the last one. Or the first one, really, but Donna wasn’t too bothered with the particulars while her lips moved against his. She should have realized he’d be better without a million other things stuffed in his mouth, but she hadn’t realized how much better. And that tongue…

One or both of them let out a moan. His arms had wrapped around her and there was no space between them at all. She felt at once a desperate hunger for more and yet totally at peace, knowing this was exactly where she wanted to be.

His legs had relaxed out of their bent posture, but to properly stretch them out the Doctor stuck them out the open side window. Her own feet went with them due to the tangle of their legs. She was tempted to kick her heels off to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine.

“Donna,” the Doctor murmured in the scant space between kisses. “My Donna.”

Her hands cradled his face then dove into his hair, anywhere she could reach. She was dizzy with the knowledge that this was her Spaceman, and he wanted her the same way she’d grown to want him. It was an absolute perfect moment.

A loud honk startled them both, and Donna darted up just in time to catch the driver of a passing lorry throw them a jaunty wave. She immediately dropped back down.

“Oh, my God.” How had she forgotten they were just off the side of a public road?

“Ah, well, suppose that looked…” Spaceman trailed off, one of his hands rising to tug at his ear. Today was just full of humiliation, wasn’t it? “Perhaps finding somewhere more private would be a good idea?”

“Yes, please, that’d be lovely.”

“Brilliant.”

She turned her face to see his grin, which she swore was infectious. A chuckle left him, and her smile only grew as he bent his head at an angle to kiss her cheek. Donna couldn’t help chasing his lips with her own, feet kicking up into the air.

It took them far longer than necessary to get back on the road.

#doctor x donna #ten x donna #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who #the doctor #my writing

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