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#there’s a small chance it could happen but right now we’re looking at having to do surgery through the intestine
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
could you do a poly!marauders with fem reader where reader doesn’t swear at all (or like REALLY rarely) and the boys are with her and something happens and she just starts cussing like a sailor and the boys are like O: ??where??did??that??come??from??
Thanks for requesting my love! This is not based at all on anything that's ever happened to me ofc (I've never cursed even once in my life and am a very attentive driver) but it was fun to write!!
cw: near-miss car accident
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 820 words
“I can’t believe you keep the seat so far back,” you say, squinting into the rear view mirror. 
“Right?” James backs you up from where he’s gently massaging Remus’ knee in the backseat. “Moony, your height is an injustice to us all.” 
Sirius smirks out the passenger window. “I don’t mind it.” 
You laugh, glancing into the mirror to assess Remus’ countenance. He’s usually the one to drive the four of you around, but he’d woken up this morning with his knee aching and none of you had wanted to chance him getting a cramp or tweaking a muscle while he had his foot on the gas. He claims the pain isn’t bad and the rest of you are playing along, but his promises do little to reassure you. Remus’ tolerance is crazy high from years of aches, pains, and injuries, so him saying it doesn’t hurt very much is like when Sirius says he’ll be over in five minutes; he probably believes it to be true, but everyone else knows better. 
Remus’ lips are twisted slightly upward at your bantering, though, and when you scan his face for signs of tension or discomfort you don’t find any. He starts to lean onto James’ shoulder, then shoots back up, eyes widening. 
Sirius’ sharp inhale has you whipping your attention back out the windshield, where another car is trying to butt into the small space between your car and the one in front.
“Fucking fuck!” You hit the brakes and slam the butt of your hand into the horn, letting it blare until the intruding car swerves back into their lane. If you’d hit them, it would have been Sirius’ side colliding with the driver’s door. Your blood pounds in your ears. “What the hell, jackass? Stay in your own fucking lane!” You start to pass them, and the driver hastily puts down his phone, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, how about we stay off our goddamn phones while we’re on the road? Fucking dumbass.” 
You blow out a harsh breath, refocusing on the traffic around you now that the danger has passed. The car has gone completely silent. “Oh no, Remus, did it hurt your knee when I braked, honey? I’m so sorry.” 
A beat, and then Remus clears his throat. “Uh, no.”
The tension doesn’t break. You wouldn’t blame the boys if they were still in shock from your near-miss, but the quiet is a bit unnerving. You’re fighting the urge to look over at Sirius or glance at Remus and James in the rear view mirror, not wanting to take your eyes off the road again. 
You jump when James asks, “What just happened?” at the same time as Sirius shouts “Fucking yeah, baby!” and holds up his hand for you to high-five. 
You barely brush it with your fingertips, hesitant and a bit wary. “What?”
“Dove,” Remus says hoarsely, “I’ve never heard that kind of language from you.” 
“Oh.” Your ears burn. “Yeah, sorry.” 
Sirius makes a sound that’s half startlement, half something else. You chance a look his way, and he’s grinning at you, mouth hanging slightly open. You think those might be stars in his eyes. “Don’t fucking apologize,” he laughs, sounding downright giddy. “That was great! Fantastic! I didn’t know you had this side to you, gorgeous.”
You shrink a bit in your seat, but there’s nowhere to go. You know if you check your mirror, you’ll find two more pairs of eyes staring at you from the backseat. “I don’t usually…well, you guys haven’t been around me while I’m driving before.” 
James guffaws. Sirius has begun to shake with silent laughter beside you. “Do you mean to tell me this happens every time you drive?” James asks.
“Not every time,” you say defensively. “They spooked me.” 
“They spooked you?” Sirius hoots from beside you, and now you can hear even Remus’ quiet chuckling. “Baby, I didn’t know you knew half those words! If that’s what happens when you drive, I want you behind the wheel every time.” 
“Oi,” Remus objects, but there’s no offense to be found in his tone. “It’s not like I don’t cuss.” 
“No,” James replies, reaching up to squeeze at your shoulders playfully, “but with you it’s not usually such a performance. That was a spectacle!” 
“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” you say, but you’re giggling now too, worse when Sirius joins in on James’ teasing, pinching at your side. “You all curse like sailors, you were bound to rub off on me eventually.” 
“It’s not like you’re not allowed to curse, dovey,” Remus says. “It’s just that we weren’t expecting it from you.” 
“And what, you’re gonna act like it’s our fault?” Sirius scoffs, poking you in the ribs and grinning when you squirm away. “As if any of us would ever say ‘fucking fuck.’ That’s an amateur's work, gorgeous. Can’t blame us for that one.” 
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navybrat817 · 6 months
Text
Rules and Chaos
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your friends are a bad influence when you and Bucky set up booths for a Fall Festival. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Implied sex, slight humor, slight fluff, tension, teasing, inner monologue, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Previous Part of AU: Ladies and Gentlemen A/N: Fic #4 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Quick visit with Hottie and Sugar and a small mention of Thorn and Rose.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @jobean12-blog (thank you and @whisperlullaby for assuring me this wasn't garbage!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“You did this on purpose. I know you did.”
With a small laugh, you finished setting up the last sign in front of your table. You wanted the stand to look perfect. “What exactly did I do, Tess?”
She pointed to the booth beside yours where Bucky and Hal were also in the middle of getting their things set up. “You somehow got them to put us right next to the boys.”
You stole a glance at the “Sin On Skin” booth beside yours, the sign tastefully saying “S.O.S. Tattoo Parlor”. Bucky winked at you when he caught your gaze out of the corner of your eye. A goofy smile appeared on your face before you cleared your throat and got back to work. “You do realize I had absolutely no control over where they placed us since I didn't organize this event.”
The nearby elementary school had put on a Fall Festival over the last few years and the woman Steve started seeing was a teacher there. She thought it would be fun for the guys to do face paintings and temporary tattoos for the kids. It was Bucky who suggested that your shop sell baked goods, after running it by you first. Not only was it good for exposure for you and Tess while helping to raise money for the students, it was an excuse to spend the day a few feet away from your boyfriend.
How could you say no to that?
The only downside was that the weather for tomorrow called for rain. To be on the safe side, the booths were going to be in the gym so that the families could still enjoy some of the festivities if it stormed. No matter what happened, it would be a fun day for everyone.
“Then he did it and now I have to watch you two make eyes at each other between customers tomorrow,” Tess accused, but there was no malice behind her words. You didn’t argue since there was a good chance that you would check Bucky out and vice versa. “And aren’t you two hanging out tonight after we finish up?”
“Yeah. We’re doing a movie night,” you replied. You hadn’t had a chance to do a lot of fall activities with Bucky yet, but he promised that he’d take you on a hayride tomorrow before the event was over. And the two of you were watching scary movies tonight. A perfect excuse for you to snuggle against him.
Which will probably end with him inside me, so well worth the jump and scares.
“I still think he’s the reason why we’re next to each other,” Tess said, checking over the order you put together. You made sure there was a range of Autumn and Halloween colors and everything was back at the shop ready for you to set out the following morning. “Though I shouldn’t complain. You two are cute together and he makes you happy.”
“We are a cute couple,” Bucky said, winking at you again. “And she makes me happy, too.”
You had to smile as your heart skipped a beat. It still felt a bit like a dream that the handsome tattoo artist was your boyfriend, but he was yours. It was silly to think that the season was brighter because you had him around, but he was like the unexpected warmth you sometimes experienced on a cool day when the sun came out. If you told him that, you knew he’d argue that it was the other way around. That you were the one who brightened everything around you.
Bringing out the best in each other is what good couples do.
“Get back to work, Hottie. We’re almost done,” you teased when he walked around his table. Clad in one of his signature Henley's, maroon to likely go with the fall theme, you found yourself staring at his chest as he stopped in front of you. Your eyes snapped to his lips when he tapped them with his finger.
“Gimme a kiss first, Sugar,” he said, his voice as warm as your cheeks felt. “One little kiss. That's all I'm asking for.”
“Fine,” you agreed, moving in close. “One kiss.”
He cupped your jaw as he leaned in and deeply kissed you, instantly making you melt against him as you kissed him back. You smiled as you tried to pull away after a second, his lips eagerly seeking yours as he went in for seconds. You discovered after your first date that one kiss was never enough for your boyfriend. He claimed your sugary lips drugged his system with desire and the only cure was for him to have another taste, which made him crave you and your kisses more.
I crave him, too.
He wrapped a hand around your hip and dragged you closer as you mewled, a sound of need that you tried to stamp out. Arousal seized you as his tongue licked along your mouth. It wasn’t fair that his kisses brought such a strong reaction out of you, especially when there was nothing you could do to satisfy it. At least, not right this second.
I’m not going to wiggle my hips and rub my pussy against his cock. I will maintain some sort of self-control.
“Hey!” Hal grinned as you tore your lips away from Bucky’s, shivering at the slight growl he let out at being interrupted. The sound made you want him more. “You two can’t fool around here. Not unless you’re teaching Sex Ed.”
“Yeah,” Tess chimed in, handing you her phone so you could take photos. Bucky still had a hand on your hip, only allowing you to twist a bit. The possessive touch also had safety behind it, telling you that you had nothing to fear when he was close by. “Behave, you two. This is a school.”
Your jaw dropped before you snapped a few pictures, making sure to capture the entire booth. You’d have to get more in the morning once the treats were set out. “We are professionals. We would never fool around here.”
And, thankfully, no children were nearby to witness you and Bucky kissing each other since it was after hours. You couldn’t wait to see him interact with the kids though. They would adore him and his gentle giant demeanor. The kids would love all of them. Jake’s sister even planned to stop by so his niece could get a face painting done.
“So, you're saying if he dragged you off to a nearby classroom… Oh, come on. Like you didn’t think about it the second you asked for a kiss,” Hal said, shrugging when Bucky shot him a glare and set out a bottle of orange paint that matched the shade of his hair. You wondered if he’d keep it orange for November or if he’d go for a shade of red. “Or maybe you two will roll in the hay during that hayride you keep talking about.”
Bucky didn’t look at all embarrassed, swearing that the boys were used to hearing him moan on and on about you. It was a nice feeling. “Like she said, we’re professionals and we wouldn’t do that,” he argued, raising an eyebrow. “And did you just say ‘roll in the hay’? You sound like Jensen.”
“I’m a country boy at heart. I know all about rolling in the hay,” he smirked, looking over at you when your boyfriend pulled you closer. “Hey. Don’t classrooms have locks?”
“Hal, stop encouraging them,” Tess hissed as he chuckled. It was too late. They planted the seed and you knew Bucky was thinking about it, too. “Though he does have a point. Just go into one of the rooms and lock the door. No one will notice.”
“And there’s still time before we have to get out of here,” Hal added as he checked his watch. “Make it a quickie.”
“Hold on,” you said, handing the phone back to Tess when you realized you were still holding it. “You two are actually encouraging us to find a classroom to fool around in? The night before the event?”
Not that it wouldn’t be fun and a good stress reliever, but-
“It’s no different than you two in the kitchen,” your friend said, pointing at Bucky as your cheeks got hot. “Yeah, I had that counter cleaned twice.”
Bucky turned his head toward you, humor in his eyes as you played innocent. “You told her about that?” he asked, brushing a kiss to your temple. You had to tell her. It was technically her kitchen, too. “How I ate you out so good you almost cried?” he added low enough for only you to hear.
You trembled at the memory, the mere thought of his skilled tongue and fingers making your toes curl in your boots. Before you could open your mouth to say something in your defense, Hal laughed. “And it’s no different than the two of you messing around in the break room. Thought Andy was gonna buy a new couch to replace it.”
It was Bucky’s turn to feign innocence as you gazed at him, gently tugging on his bun as tried not to smile. “You told him about that?”
Earlier in the week, you waited around for him to close the parlor. The two of you chatted on the couch when you didn’t want to leave right away, which led to a heated makeout session. It wasn’t long before he had you in his lap, bouncing you up and down on his cock as he growled filthy praises. How well you took him, how beautiful you looked riding him. It was a feat that you could walk out before he took you home.
Where he wrecked you all over again.
“Steve told him, so everyone knows. Punk can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Bucky said, glancing around where a few others were starting to wrap up. “Look. Messing around in our shops is one thing. We own them. Messing around here is something else.”
“He’s right. And even if we wanted to mess around, I’m pretty sure the security guard or administrators will catch on if we suddenly take a stroll down the halls,” you said before your brow furrowed. “Wait a second. Where’s Steve?” you asked. You hadn’t seen him since he dropped off the table banner.
Hal looked behind him and shrugged. “Wasn’t he helping Rose grab decorations for one of the other displays?”
“It shouldn’t take that long, should it?” your boyfriend asked.
As if on cue, Steve rushed into the gym and came to a stop a foot away from the booth. His cheeks were pinker than usual and his hair was a bit of a mess. “Sorry. Rose was showing me around. She’ll be back in a minute.”
Bucky nodded slowly. “Thought you two were getting decorations.”
“Well, yeah. We did. She has them,” he said quickly.
“Stevie?”
“Yeah?”
“Check your fly,” Bucky said, nodding to his crotch.
Hal laughed so hard he almost fell over as Steve fixed his pants, you and Tess covering your mouths to not draw more attention as you giggled. “See? If Stevie can have fun in a classroom, so can you.”
The blonde looked slightly offended by the assumption. “We were not in a classroom,” he stated as you all stared in disbelief. It only took a moment for him to smile. “We were in an office. That’s completely different.”
You shared a look with Bucky, practically seeing the lightbulb turn on over his head. “An office?” he repeated.
Steve nodded, pointing to one of the gym doors. “Yeah, the principal's office is that way and the nurse’s office,” he said, smirking when he realized why his best friend was asking. “You’re worse than I am, you know that?”
“Worse than what?” a kind voice rang out, Steve's girlfriend gracefully walking over with a small box in hand. He took it from her hands immediately, like it was too heavy for her.
“Buck was wanting to, um, 'visit' one of the offices,” he replied.
Rose kept a neutral look on her face as she looked at you two. “So he told you,” she said carefully.
The poor guy really can't keep a secret.
“More like his open fly told us,” Hal chuckled, holding up his hands when Steve took a step toward him.
Rose placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I normally wouldn't encourage this, but since Steve let the cat out of the bag,” she said, smiling when he gave her a lopsided grin. “The teacher's lounge should still be unlocked, but only for a few more minutes and I can't help you if anyone walks in. You're on your own. Got it?”
“Got it,” Bucky chuckled, leaning in close to breathe against your ear. “What do you say, Sugar? Think we can sneak in there? Have a bit of fun before our movie night? Break a few rules?”
The thought had you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. “Thought you wanted one kiss before you got back to work. Not a quickie.”
“Let’s live dangerously,” he smiled.
Your breath hitched, something in your mind telling you to go along with the crazy idea. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. The two of you would clean up any mess you’d make once you were done. And if Rose, who worked here, had fun with Steve, would it be so wrong for you to do the same?
“You’re a bad influence,” you smiled back as he tugged you by the hand toward the door. “All of you!” you added when Tess laughed and Hal whistled.
But it’s good to be bad now and again, especially with the right partner by my side.
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So, did Bucky fuck you against the door, the vending machine, or on a table? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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cosmos-coma · 2 months
Text
My Sun, My Star- Part 2
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 7476 (whoops)
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.
Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!
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“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”
He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 
“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.
“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  
Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 
“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.
As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 
“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 
“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 
“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 
Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”
“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 
“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 
“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 
“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 
----
You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.
Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 
“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.
You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 
Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 
“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 
“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.
“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 
He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.
“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.
“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 
“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….
“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“
“But I-“ 
“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 
You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 
You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.
“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 
“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 
“Doll, I’m sorry-”
“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”
You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 
“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.
Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.
You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 
You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 
You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 
When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 
Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 
A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 
“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.
“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 
“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 
“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”
“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 
“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.
 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”
You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?
You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 
But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 
“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.
You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”
Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”
“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 
Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 
“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 
You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”
“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.
You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 
Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”
Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 
Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”
You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”
“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 
You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 
You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 
“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 
Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 
You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 
This was it. 
--------
Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.
“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 
“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.
“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 
Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-
The apartment. 
Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.
“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 
Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 
“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 
“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.
“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 
“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 
“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.
“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 
A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 
Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 
You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.
Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 
“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 
His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 
He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.
You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 
“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 
You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 
“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 
You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 
After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 
‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘
With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.
Silence.
You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 
Quiet.
Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 
With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.
---------
Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 
The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 
Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 
“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 
Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 
He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 
Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 
“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?
He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.
Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.
He would take care of you. 
“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  
Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.
What did he do to you…?
-----
You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 
You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”
“It’s Bucky…”
You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 
“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 
As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 
“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.
“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 
He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 
“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”
But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.
“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 
You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.
You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.
As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.
Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 
He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 
You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 
Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 
“He…” 
Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.
“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.
“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 
Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 
The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 
He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 
When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 
Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 
“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”
“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”
You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 
Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 
“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 
“Doll…” 
“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.
“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”
Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 
“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”
_____________
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darkbluekies · 5 months
Note
The track runner reader fic w/Silas got me thinking👀
Hear me out okay..
Ballerina reader x Silas
How would he react to see her practice,her shows
Swan lake, Giselle..
Italian fouettés, Entrechat quatre x3 royale, Developpe A la Seconde etc
Yk the high extensions,leg holds the whole shebang
Just a thot👀
Stolen part
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Yandere!mafia x fem!reader
Summary: you've finally been granted to do ballet, but when Silas sees you upset, everything turns into a nightmare
Warnings: yandere, mentions of blood, broken bones, a lot of guilt and confusion, panic attack(?), reader just feeling horrible
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: I took some creative liberty with your request, I hope that's okay. And uh, I know 0 about ballet, so take this with a handful of salt<3
One performance — that’s the deal. One single performance and then you’ll go back to normal life. You nearly fainted when he told you that you could do one dance, after months and months of begging, pleading and crying. You almost started threatening him when you became desperate enough. 
“Well … we’re here”, Silas sighs as his men stop the car. “You know the rules, don’t you? Do we have to go through them again?”
“No, I know them”, you smile. 
You take his hand while exiting the car. Silas smiles and squeezes your hand softly. It’s worth all the trouble, he tells himself. If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.
When you enter the practice room, you’re met by a dozen other girls wearing the same clothes as you. It’s been such a long time ago that you’ve felt so … included. There’s a certain feeling about wearing the same thing that creates a unity you can’t explain. 
“Run along”, Silas tells you, giving you a small push towards the group. 
He walks over to the instructor. He can tell right away that she knows who he is. He braces himself. She can either call the police or let him go. If she decides to call the police, he’ll have to create a blood bath and snatch you back in the car. 
“Can I have a word with you?” Silas asks politely. 
“Sure”, the woman answers hesitantly. 
“I can tell by the look on your face that you know very well who I am, so I want to make a deal with you.”
“What type of deal?”
“If you don’t call the cops on me and give my girlfriend an honest chance — because I know that she’s magnificent — I will fund your entire club. All clothes, all expenses, all props, venue, is on me. Fair?”
The woman thinks for a moment. Silas know that the club is underfunded. He knows that she has to agree.
“Okay”, the woman says shortly. 
“Good”, Silas replies and waves at you to come over. 
You skip over with sparkling eyes. He pulls you in to kiss him, in front of everybody. His kisses are always controlled by him, but they always show extremely much love for you, a deep hunger nothing can satisfy. 
“My men will stay to supervise, to make sure nothing happens to you”, he says and gives you another kiss. “Have fun now, little thing. I’ll see you soon.”
You nod. Silas squeezes your shoulder, gives the group of ballerinas a warning stare and then leaves. 
You return to the group. The people who knows who Silas is give you nervous gazes and the ones who don’t look at you with jealousy. 
Well, this is starting off great, you’ll absolutely make many friends.
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Time goes on. Silas enjoys seeing the wise smile on your face every time you exit the building after a practice. Every time you’re in practice, he takes the opportunity to do some errands. He always makes sure to come pick you up clean, never covered in blood. 
But one day, you’re crying when you meet him. His heart drops in an instant and he thinks that putting you in ballet was a mistake. It wasn’t worth it at all. 
“What happened, baby?” he asks worriedly and takes you in his arms. “What did they do to you?”
You struggle to talk through your violent sobs. He believes that you’re having a panic attack, but you can still move relatively well. Silas grabs your shoulders and waves at his men to come over. 
“Y/N, what did they do to you?” he asks and looks at his men. “Did any of the others hurt her?”
The men shake their heads. 
“Y/N!” Silas says sharply. 
“I-I didn’t … get … the ... lead role”, you manage to get out through your sobs. 
You know it’s silly, of course. Honestly. It’s childish to cry over not being the main character, but this was your only chance to be on stage before you’ll get pulled back into capture. You’ll never have this much freedom again. It’s embarrassing to cry about this, and you know that very well, but they don’t know how much you’ve suffered to even be in the practice room. 
“You didn’t?” Silas asks shortly. 
“No”, you cry. 
Silas turns to his men and hands you to one of them. 
“Bring her to the car”, he says. “I will be back soon.”
He disappears into the building. The practice room is empty, apart from the constructor who is cleaning up after today's class.
“Oh”, she says, noticing him. “Can I help you?”
“If you're smart, you can”, Silas says coldly. “I heard that Y/N didn't get the lead role. I'm just wondering why?”
“She wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular role … I mean, she's extremely good, but just not what I had in mind when I visualized the lead. She's a runner up, though.”
Not good enough, Silas thinks.
“Okay”, he says and nods. “I see.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves. Anger is burning through his chest. Seeing you so upset makes him see red. He would burn down the entire world for you to watch you smile. He walks back to the car where you sit in the backseat and the two men in the front. 
“Hey, baby”, he smiles and sits down beside you. “Are you feeling better? Should we get some food on the way home?”
You nod. Silas smiles and wipes your tears. His men are forced to hear how he sucks the air out of you in the backseat. He devours your lips, trying to comfort both you and himself. He holds you in his arms, letting you cry. The more you cry, the more embarrassed you feel. You’re ashamed because you can’t understand why you are so upset over it. It’s just a role, you’ll still be on stage, won’t you? Is it because you think that you’re better than the others? That you deserve the position of the lead? Do you deserve it because you’re so good or because this is your only chance? The others have many more opportunities to get the role you want, why can’t you just get one? You’ll never be seen again, why can’t you get it?
Why are you thinking like this? You’re not entitled to anything. Has Silas imprinted the narrative that you’re so special, so wonderful that deeply into your brain? Do you believe that you’re this special, one of a kind person that deserve everything because you’re so special? 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Silas asks, caressing your cheek. “You look so thoughtful. Let me in.”
“I- … I- …”, you start, but can’t seem to talk — you can’t even formulate your own thoughts.
“Breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re with me now.”
“I am breathing … I just …”
“Just …?”
You shake your head. 
“Just hungry”, you lie. “And tired.”
“It’s okay, you’ll get some food soon”, Silas promises and kisses your lips once again. “We’ll stop by McDonald’s.”
You get your food and you eat together with Silas in your bedroom, but you can’t stop thinking about the lump in your stomach. Why are you so upset? Why can’t you put words on your feelings? 
You lay awake the entire night in your empty bed (because Silas is out working) and think. Crying over not getting the lead role won’t make you enjoy the last few weeks in the club. Ballet is your true love, you should do everything you can to enjoy it — specifically because you’ll not get it back. You should be happy with your role — you’re even a runner up! That’s fantastic. You breathe out. Ease sets into your heart. It doesn’t matter what role you get, as long as you have fun. 
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When you enter the practice room the next time, you can tell that something is wrong right away. The girl who got the lead part … has crutches. You feel a shiver run down your back. Mortified, you shake your head. Silas. He must have done something to give you the lead role, that you so desperately wanted. He never got to know that you became satisfied with your original role. Guilt washes over you, suddenly you feel extremely sick. You need to take a hold on the wall to not fall. One hand presses against your chest to not vomit. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” one of the body guards asks as they hurry over. 
You nod sloppily. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. This is all my fault. 
This is what you had been feeling bad about — finally you can put words on that weird feeling in your stomach. You were scared that Silas would do something to the girl that got the lead without even noticing it. If anything, that shows how close you know Silas.
“He … he did this … didn’t he?” you whisper, feeling distant. 
“The boss couldn’t stand to watch you be upset”, one of the body guards answers quietly, only for you to hear. “He made sure to get you the role he wanted.”
You’re freezing. That poor girl. Suddenly you don’t want that part anymore. The part is dirty, and your hands are covered in blood. 
Your mind is anywhere but in practice when you dance your stolen part, but your body works for you. 
Silas is standing out in the parking lot a wide smile when you walk out. He opens his arms for you, but you don’t walk into them. 
“Are you happy now?” he asks. 
“You shouldn’t have done that, Silas …”, you say quietly and shake your head. 
He tries to grab you, but you jerk back. Silas frowns. 
“But you wanted it”, he says. “You had a panic attack. I gave the part to you.”
“Silas, I feel extremely guilty. I stole her part. It’s not fair.”
He grabs your shoulders and force you to look at him. 
“The world isn’t fair, little thing”, he says. “If you have some power, use it. I want to use my power to make you happy, baby. You’ll do better than that girl ever could. You should have gotten that part from the very beginning.”
He gives you a kiss and brings you to the car. 
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When the day for the performance arrive, you refuse to come out of the dressing room. The costume looks horrible on you. You can only see the other girl in the mirror. None of the other girls have talked to you after the lead girl ended up with crutches. They all know why you got the role. And how you got it. 
“We start in five minutes, get out!” the instructor tells you and basically pulls you out on stage. 
You see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. Silas has brought as many of his men as he possibly could. Silas himself is sitting in the front row with his right hand man beside him, smiling at you. You look around. All his men are smiling at you. Weirdly enough, it’s somehow cute. They all look like they could kill anyone in any second, but the second you look their way, big, genuine smiles creeps up on their faces. Turning them from killer machines to teddy bears. 
You dance to the best of your ability. This is what you’ve been begging and pleading for. Better enjoy the spotlight while you can. You can’t help but feeling dirty throughout the performance. Silas, however, has never looked this proud before. 
The second the applauds roll in, you fall to your knees, crying. You fulfilled your childhood dream, but at what cost? A girl broke her leg because of your emotions, you stole her role … you’re covered in dirt that you can’t wash off. You don’t deserve these applauds. You don’t deserve any of this. 
“Y/N!” Silas gasps and runs up on the stage with his right hand man by his side. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I want to go home”, you sob. “Get me out of here.”
Silas nods and waves at his men to walk out. He picks you up and follows his men. 
“You did so well, baby”, Silas smiles while walking. “I’ma always proud of you, but this was something else. Everyone saw how absolutely fantastic you were. You’re an absolute badass, baby. I fucking love you so much.”
You smile slightly. It’s finally over. You’ve achieved your dream — although you wish that you never had done it — and now, you’re going back to your locked bedroom. You almost long for it. 
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acowardinmordor · 5 months
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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six
Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.
Part One .... Part Four - Part Five
---
“Rob, no.”
“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”
“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”
“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”
“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 
“I’ll figure it out on the way!”
She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 
It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 
That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 
She touched his arm.
And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 
Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 
“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”
“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”
“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 
“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“He said it was his fault!”
Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.
“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”
“No! And why are you working?”
Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”
“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”
“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 
“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 
Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 
“Steve.”
“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 
“Why does he get special treatment?”
Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 
“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”
Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 
“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”
Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”
“And that doesn’t make you friends?”
“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 
The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 
He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 
“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”
“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”
She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 
“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 
The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 
If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 
Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 
Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  
Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 
“Did, uh, did you say something?”
Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 
“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”
“Birdie, you don’t--” 
“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”
“Got it,” he smiled.
And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 
***
Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.
Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 
“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 
Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.
“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”
He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 
Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.
Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 
Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 
Eddie was still standing there. 
“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.
Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”
It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 
“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”
Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 
“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 
“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 
Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 
***
Steve didn’t open it. 
He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 
If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 
“Do you have…?”
“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 
Eddie nodded. 
Eddie left. 
***
Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 
Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 
She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 
When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 
***
Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.
“No.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 
“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”
Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 
“No?” he asked instead.
Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 
“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.
“Steve?”
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”
“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”
Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 
Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 
Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 
“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.
“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 
“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”
The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 
---------------
We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.
Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.
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runa-falls · 10 months
Text
scratches and bites - 3
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pairing: miguel o'hara x reader
warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P
a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)
summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.
w/c: 4.2k
series masterlist | main masterlist
----
“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.
You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined. 
Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.
“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”
“Aw, thanks, dude.” 
Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry. 
Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.
“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.” 
You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”
He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.
“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform. 
He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”
“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.  
Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you. 
His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.” 
This is getting nowhere.
“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close. 
“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped. 
“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night. 
“W-what kind of lesson?”
“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk. 
Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you. 
“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not. 
Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of  Miguel’s natural heat.
“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him. 
“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes. 
“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?” 
Yes.
“Do I…”
“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs. 
Yes.
“B-bite…?”
“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat. 
He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.” 
Yes.
“Yes.” 
He doesn’t waste any time. 
A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.  
The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs. 
“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down. 
It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes. 
And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him. 
Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder. 
Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders. 
“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good. 
You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.
In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite. 
It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away. 
So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…
The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze. 
“What is it?” 
“Don’t leave me.” 
“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression. 
“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in. 
Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks. 
“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it. 
“Yeah?”
You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute. 
Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive. 
Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.
You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference. 
He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them. 
You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.  
You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck. 
With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you. 
His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds. 
You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest. 
“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.” 
“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole. 
He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.
“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing. 
He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”
“It’s a tight suit.”
“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”
Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.” 
You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table. 
He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”
“Me?”
“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”
“I do, actually. Wanna see?” 
You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you. 
He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.
Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady. 
“You’re hot.” 
He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”
“I mean…warm.”
He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”
Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”
 He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs. 
His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”
His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself. 
Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.” 
Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there. 
Then he starts moving. 
His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.  
When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that. 
Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive. 
You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars. 
You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.” 
Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk. 
He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.
“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you. 
With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it. 
He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you. 
“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.
“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”
His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.
“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”
His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.” 
“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”
“I don’t care.”
“Miguel.”
“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.” 
“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”
He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.” 
-----
taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
all mixed up
for @steddielovemonth prompt “love is the perfect mixtape’
rated t | 940 words | cw: brief mention of recreational drug use | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, fluff
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
The silence in the car was stifling.
It was hot. Like, entirely too hot.
Steve was about five seconds away from taking his shirt off and dealing with Robin’s rolled eyes when Eddie, surprisingly, beat him to it.
The windows were down, but the radio was off, and sweat was dripping from every pore of their bodies onto the sticky leather seats of Steve’s car.
Eddie’s shirt was sitting on the seat next to him, and one of his hands was gathering his hair up so he could get some wind on his neck, not that the wind was any real help.
“What if we just all go to Robin’s?” Eddie asked when they were only a block away from her house. “Soak up some cool air.”
“Her parents are home,” Steve said for the fifth time.
“I don’t see the issue.”
“They think you were targeting me as the next victim,” Robin shook her head. “I don’t know how many times I’ve explained to them-“
“Fine!” Eddie said, too hot to bother listening or trying to argue. “But I swear we’re getting the AC in this car fixed tomorrow.”
“Oh, do you suddenly have $140?” Steve was met with silence. “Thought so.”
When Robin got out of the car, she slipped $20 into Steve’s hand. “For gas or AC, whatever.”
It was the first time Eddie had ever seen her give Steve any form of payment for rides, and probably the last going off of the way Steve’s entire face went from mildly uncomfortable to physical pain.
Eddie moved to the passenger seat and buckled up.
That was the biggest rule in Steve’s car: everyone wore seatbelts unless they were being chased by Upside Down creatures.
Steve backed out of the driveway once Robin was inside, and once again tried to flip the AC on.
Nothing.
“Why did this have to happen right before the hottest part of the year?” Eddie groaned.
“Just lucky,” Steve shrugged.
He should’ve taken his shirt off when he was in Robin’s driveway.
He pretended not to be distracted by the sweat glistening on Eddie’s chest, his skin flush pink from the heat. Steve pretended to not notice his newest tattoo, a nail bat that could have been identical to Steve’s real one under his bed.
“Oh!” Eddie suddenly said, nearly making Steve slam on the brakes or steer off the road. Maybe both.
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot,” Eddie started to say as he reached through the backpack he had on the floor at his feet. “I made a…ah-ha!”
He held up a small rectangle, beaming over at Steve, who was too focused on driving to really see what he was holding.
“Uh. What is it?” He asked.
“It’s a mixtape! You were complaining about the kids stealing all your tapes and I thought I could make one for you,” Eddie opened the cassette case and shoved the tape in the tape deck. “I fit as much of what I knew you had on here, but there are limits to my magic so-“
“You seriously made me a mixtape of a bunch of pop songs?” Steve rolled to a stop at a stop sign, finally able to properly look over at Eddie.
He was pulling a lock of hair into his mouth, nervously looking back at Steve like he was unsure he’d done the right thing, like this was a test he hadn’t studied for and had a big chance of failing.
“I mean, I did throw in one of my favorite songs halfway to shake things up,” Eddie said nervously.
“You recorded fucking Blondie on a tape for me?” Steve asked incredulously.
“One song is Blondie, but-“
“And Tears for Fears?” Steve was still stopped in the road.
Eddie glanced behind them, ignoring the squeak of his slick skin rubbing against the seat. No cars, thankfully.
“Yeah, they’re on there.”
Steve put the car in park.
“Steve, you’re in the road, you can’t-“
“Shut up!” Steve turned completely towards Eddie, his face serious. “You made me a mixtape.”
“Yes and now I’m regretting mentioning it while you were driving.” Duran, Duran started playing and Steve let out a small gasp. “Dude, are you okay?”
“Do you remember when you told me that music was your love language? We were high and you said that you would give the person you love a mixtape to show you cared about them?”
He did say that. It was well over a month ago, when he and Steve had been sitting on his roof smoking, when Eddie had almost told him then how much he loved him. He’d held back, but barely.
“I…yeah, I remember.”
“And you made me a mixtape.”
“I did.”
“Eddie…”
“Steve…”
“Is this you telling me you love me?”
It wasn’t. Not intentionally. Not really.
But as expected, Steve saw through him, had a memory like a steel trap despite how many times he’d had his lights knocked out.
“You love me.”
Eddie was desperate to touch him, but the reminder of how hot it was, how much sweat was dripping off of him made him pause.
“When we get to your house, I’ll tell you.”
“What? Why not now?” Steve pouted.
Eddie fell harder.
“Because if I kiss you in this car, I’ll be mad about suffering in the heat longer. You have a house with AC and a cold shower." Eddie poked Steve's bottom lip back in. "I can show you if you hurry."
Steve took the car out of park and hit the gas, his perfect mixtape playing on the radio and Eddie laughing in the passenger seat.
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mellifiedprincess · 6 months
Text
Hazel Callahan x reader
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You stare across the field, looking up into the bleachers where Hazel sat, legs sprawled out. She was in the middle of a conversation with Pj and Josie, and even though she wasn’t doing anything particularly special, you couldn’t help but gush at how endearing she looked.
You were so in love with her, it was nauseating.
You’re brought back to focus, when you suddenly feel eyes on you, realizing you’ve been staring at Hazel this whole time. She’s staring right back at you now, and you can’t help but smile. A blush coats your cheeks, as you raise a hand up and send her a small wave.
“Who are you looking at?” Pj asks Hazel, before turning to the field, where she sees you with the rest of the cheerleaders. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen Hazel.”
“Just like you and Brittany are never gonna happen?” Hazel retorts back while rolling her pretty blue eyes.
Hazel already thought you were way out of her league, no matter how confident she was with herself, she still didn’t believe she was good enough for you. You were the sun in her sky and you didn’t even know it.
“Holy shit! Wait- you have to talk to her.” Pj exclaims to Hazel, waving her hands frantically. “I talk to her all the time, Pj. We’re friends.”
“No, talk to her about joining the fight club. Then we can convince her to bring Brittany and Isabel, teach them to defend themselves, and next thing you know we’re making out with cheerleaders.” She pauses looking between Hazel and Josie for any sign of support.
“Have you ever thought that, i don’t know, maybe some people want more than sex? I actually have feelings for Isabel, and whether Hazel wants to admit it, she has actual feelings for Y/n.” Hazel looks over at Josie with a glare, knowing she was right about not wanting to admit her feelings. Because she knew if she did, there was a big chance of being rejected.
“Blah blah blah, you’re in love. Whatever. Come on Hazel, we’re like kind of your only friends. Do this for us?”
Hazel sat in silence for a moment, looking between you and Pj. She knew there was a big chance of this plan failing, and she would end up looking like an even bigger loser than she already was. But she also just really wanted any excuse to be close to you.
“Fine. I’ll do it!”
——
“Y/n, hey! Wait up.” When you hear your name being called from down the hallway, you immediately turn, meeting eyes with Hazel. “Hi Hazel.” You can feel the blush creep up onto your cheeks, as you send her a shy smile. For a moment, all Hazel can do is stare with her mouth slightly agape. Oh wow, she is too cute. Hazel thought to herself, before clearing her throat.
“So, uh, me, Pj, and Josie were talking and have decided to start a fight club.” Her words were a bit rushed and she could tell by the slight tilt of your head and arched brow, you were completely confused. “It’s really more of a way to help with the lack of female solidarity here at school. Teach girls how to defend themselves better.”
“Oh! That sounds really cool Hazel.” “Would you wanna maybe join? Maybe you could get some of your friends to join too!” You smile at that and nod your head yes. “I’d love to! I’ll bring Britt and Isabel too, they’d totally be into it.”
“Cool, so if you want, I could meet you at your locker and we could walk to the gym together?”
“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You back away slowly, before turning to head to your next class. If you would have looked back, you would have seen the lovesick smile Hazel wore.
——
Since then, you and Hazel have grown a lot closer. Not really sure what to call your situation though. Neither of you have made the move and asked the other out officially, but you definitely weren’t just friends. I mean, you don’t sit on the laps of your other friends any time you’re together. Or find yourself making out with them, when alone.
Point is, you were definitely in love with each other, just too scared to admit it.
And now, as you sit beside Hazel, her hand placed on your thigh, surrounded by the other girls. You can’t help but be even more scared that, with the news of the club ending, so would the relationship you’ve built with Hazel.
“Why do you look so sad, sweetheart?” You look up at Hazel when she breaks you from your worrying thoughts.
“I just don’t want this to end.”
“I’m sure everyone will still hangout. Just because the club is ending doesn’t mean we have to ignore each other.” Hazels words don’t do much reassuring for you.
“Haze, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to lose y-“ You were so close to admitting it, but Pj as usual had to ruin it.
“Guys! Stop jumping to conclusions with the goodbyes.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at her. “Pj, don’t be sad it’s over, be happy it happened.” Annie tries to be optimistic, but Pj isn’t having it. “Alright, can we just all calm the fuck down, please? The club isn’t even over yet.”
“No matter what this club has brought me so much. I feel so much more powerful, and, um, protected.” “Me too.” Josie agrees with Isabel, sending her a reassuring smile.
“Great.” Pj huffs out, and you watch Hazel stand up, not really sure what’s happening. “Oh my god, Pj! I’m sorry you didn’t really get what you wanted out of this club, but I think most of us did.” Your eyes slightly widen at the raise of Hazels voice, never hearing her this upset.
“Good for fucking you Hazel. I’m glad you finally wrote one fucking email. Accomplished a lot.” “I did, actually. I practically ran this club for you and Josie.” And that was true.
Hazel dedicated almost all of her free time to this club. A club that meant more to her than it did to Pj. “Okay, let’s calm down, maybe.”
“You really think that you’re the reason we have this club?”
“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want.” Hazel looks around at everyone, then back to Pj.
What exactly did she mean by that?
“You’re so ungrateful, Hazel. You’re lucky we even let you be a part of this club.” “Pj, you’re a liar.” At that you stand up and grab Hazels hand. “Hey, why don’t you take a walk? Try to calm down a little, clear your head.”
“Yeah well, you can’t even get the girl you’ve been dreaming of fucking to actually fuck you, so.” You immediately look up at Hazel, hearing the harsh admittance. “Leave her out of this Pj.”
“Why? Don’t want her realizing how much of a loser you truly are? You don’t even have any friends.” And that just made your blood boil, Hazel had so many friends.
You watch as Hazel grabs her bag and storms down the stairs and then out the gym. “She’s so fucking drama-“ Pjs words are cut off by your fist connecting to her nose. Sending the girl to her back on the floor. “Talk to her like that again, and it’s gonna be a lot worse next time.” You turn on your heel after that and march out in search of Hazel.
You soon find her looking out at the football field from the top of the bleachers, tears slowly streaming down her face. “Hey, want some company?” You ask softly. She sadly smiles at you and reaches out for your hand, before pulling you down into her lap. Her chin rests on your shoulder, and you can feel her relax a little.
It’s quiet for a little bit. Sounds of the wind blowing breaking it every now and then, but for the most part quiet. Until Hazel breaks it.
“I love you.” It was so softly spoken, you almost missed it. Almost.
“I love you too, Hazel.” You kiss her cheek and watch as she looks at you with confusion on her pretty face. “Wait, what?”
And you laugh. You laugh because how could she not know you felt the same way. She was the moon in your night, always shining bright no matter how dark it was outside.
“Is it so hard to believe that I love you back?”
“Kinda.” She shrugs her shoulders, a shy smile on her face.
“Hazel, I’ve liked you for the longest time. Way before the club started. I thought I was so obvious.”
“I just thought you were super nice all the time.” You both laugh at this. You were two idiots in love with each other and didn’t even know it. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?” She asks you hopefully. “Only if I can call you mine.” Hazel looks at you for a few seconds before taking your chin and pulling you closer.
“Deal.” She mumbles against your lips.
When you pull away, you sit in silence just trying to catch your breath. Finally at peace with your worried thoughts from earlier in the gym.
“Oh shit!” Your sudden outburst scares Hazel. “What baby?”
“I totally broke Pjs nose before chasing after you.” Your now girlfriend stares at you with wide eyes, before bursting into a fit of giggles, causing you to start laughing too.
“She deserved it.”
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theetherealbloom · 4 months
Text
WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 1 | 14th Doctor
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Chapter One: After All Of The Time, And Give An Actual Try
Summary: An enigmatic old face makes a reappearance, heralding unforeseen events. A mysterious spaceship plummets to Earth, bringing chaos and prompting the Doctor's intervention. Amidst the unfolding narrative, a cute and endearing creature seeks assistance, weaving together elements of mystery, adventure, and companionship.
Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance 
Word Count: 12.2k
A/N: Surprise! I love Doctor Who too. I’m a huge nerd, I know tehe. I hope you enjoy this mini-series I have planned for the 14th Doctor! As we know, he is played by the beloved David Tennant who is one of my favorite Doctors ever.
Song: Where do we go now? By Gracie Abrams
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS, NORTH LONDON – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023
A UNIT team was promptly dispatched as the spaceship breached Earth's atmosphere, making its way North of London. Both serving as scientific advisors, you and Shirley were on-site where the ship had landed.
While some military personnel were busy extinguishing the flames from the spacecraft and securing the perimeter, preventing you from delving further into the investigation, you found yourself engrossed in studying the ship's scans displayed on the monitor in your hands, attempting to unravel the mystery.
"Miss them, do you?" A voice called out from behind.
You averted your gaze from the tablet, turning to find Shirley maneuvering her wheelchair next to you. Curious, you asked, "What? Who?"
The redhead sported a cheeky smile. "The Doctor, of course."
It was widely known that you had journeyed alongside the Doctor and his myriad companions. Images of their faces flashed in your mind as you reminisced about those exciting adventures. Rose, Donna, the Ponds, Clara... you longed for them. There was a noticeable absence of the Doctor that left a gaping black hole in your chest.
You shook your head, muttering to yourself, "Can't let the Doctor catch a glimpse of me again; the entire universe might just fold in on itself once more. Already me being here is a problem since there’s a possibility he could pop out at any moment. I’m only on duty since I owe Kate a favor."
Shirley hums and responds, "I've read the files, you know. You two were quite the team. Everything that had happened… was in the wrong place at the right time. Still, it could happen, the two of you… together."
You raise your eyebrows at her and offer a small smile while shaking your head, scoffing, "The Doctor was unaware before, and I won't be the catalyst for another cosmic meltdown due to my selfish reasons. Besides... the Doctor doesn’t know I’m still alive and UNIT is already on my arse for even existing on this timeline.”
The redhead emits a sympathetic murmur and pats the side of your thigh, "Wasn't your fault, love. A colossal tear in time and space that dragged you in here... sounds like fate, or destiny even. If anything, maybe it was supposed to happen... like you and—"
The tablet beeps, abruptly halting Shirley's train of thought. You glance at the monitor, furrowing your brow, then hand over the device to her, saying, "You need to see this. I believe there's more to this than we initially thought."
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“Now I think we’re making a fundamental mistake. ‘Cause maybe that spaceship was a collision course to start with, but look.” Shirley says while the UNIT soldier looks at the tablet, “At the last minute, it pulls up, then settles. What I’m sayin’ is, that ship didn’t crash. It parked.”
As Shirley presents her observations to the UNIT soldier, you can't help but notice the intensity in her gaze, the lines of concentration etched across her forehead. The soldier queries, "No signs of life?" You step forward, interjecting, "Not yet. But we don't know what kind of life we're looking for."
Suddenly, an unexplained shiver races up your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. A palpable sense of familiarity and the eerie feeling of being observed by someone you know too well. Your expression shifts into a frown, and Shirley catches on, concern knitting her brows. "What? What's wrong?" she asks.
You open your mouth but hesitate, exchanging glances with Shirley and the UNIT soldier. Shirley, sensing the urgency, instructs the soldier to step aside. Both of you retreat to a secluded corner, where she probes, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost, dear."
You exhale shakily, "I... I think he's here. He's back."
Shirley blinks, seeking clarification, "You mean..."
"The Doctor. The Doctor, he’s here."
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"Shirley, I need to leave, immediately," you declare, attempting to stride away with urgency.
"Wait, hang on a second," Shirley interjects, gripping your wrist and compelling you to halt. "He's already seen you, yeah? Looks like nothing bad has happened and—"
"Nothing bad has happened yet, Shirley. The stars could go out; millions of galactic species could die if we so much as breathe in each other's direction. I can't risk it. I won't."
Tears well up, and Shirley guides you to a stop near one of the staircases, settling herself in her wheelchair. As you take a seat, you rub both hands over your face, wiping away the tears. "I should have died that day."
Shirley remains silent, allowing you to continue as you shakily sob, "I should have died. But I didn't, and I'm still here."
"I lied to him, Shirley. I lied. He... he might never forgive me for it," you confess brokenly. Shirley shrugs, offering, "You won't know unless you talk. And it seems to me that whatever was keepin’ you apart before… is tellin’ you two maybe now is the right place at the right time."
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Deep in contemplation of your choices, someone suddenly seizes your wrist, muffling your voice as they pull you close, your body pressed against a comforting warmth.
"Hey, it's me. It's the Doctor," he reassures, and you instinctively push away, allowing some distance between you two. Both of you stand there panting, but he breaks the silence first, shouting, "I thought you were dead!"
Throwing the words back at him, you retort, "I was supposed to be dead!"
"Why aren't you dead?" he demands, and frustration laces your high-pitched response, "Are you bloody serious in asking me that?”
 “No. Yes! Argh, I don't know!"
Shaking your head and taking a step back, you declare, "I need to leave."
The Doctor firmly grabs your wrist, halting your escape. "No. Not again."
With determination, you wrench your wrist from his strong hold, shouting, "The universe could collapse! Again! We weren't ever supposed to meet. It was a mistake."
Wide-eyed, the Doctor gazes at you and replies in a breathy tone, "Is that really what you think?"
Paused, unable to respond, you hear his voice in your head, a telepathic whisper so familiar. "You and I both know, that it wasn't a mistake."
Glaring at him, you muster as much resistance as possible, but those big dark brown eyes make it challenging. "That's not fair. Get out of my head," you retort with furrowed brows.
The Doctor whispers your name, barely audible, causing you to flinch and look away. Instead of acknowledging his presence, you pivot to a question, "You regenerated… But why this face? Why are you back?"
"Why do you ask? You don't like this one?" he retorts.
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes, "With you, there's always a reason for everything."
The Doctor admits, "Must be why the TARDIS brought me to you and Donna."
You regard him with a concerned gaze and tone, "What? You saw Donna, did she recognize or remember you?"
"The fail-safe worked; she just commented about my clothes. She has a daughter named Rose," the Doctor hums, kicking a small piece of gravel on the floor. You nod, "Yeah, I keep tabs on 'em. Making sure they're alright. Even though Donna gave all that money away to charity."
"Do you know why she did it?" The Doctor asks.
"I don't. But I have a couple of guesses," you reply with a close-lipped smile and a shrug. The Doctor brings his gaze to you, and you can already feel the question before he says it.
"I thought you were dead, for fifteen years."
You scoff, "Oh, that's nothing for you, Time Lord and all."
The Doctor throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh, don't do that."
"Do what?" you demand.
"Pretend that it was nothing for me! You were everything to me," the Doctor says, taking another step closer, and you take a step back this time. You look at him with narrowed eyes, and in a low tone, you say, "You and I both know that's not true."
"What happened? Where did you go?"
"You and I both know what happened after Arcadia. I was ready to die. I thought I had served my purpose, what I was made for. I got shot midway through the regeneration process, and I felt it. I felt myself slipping away... I could only see the two suns, and then when I closed my eyes, there was this surge of energy... I couldn't explain it back then, and I can't now. But it was like someone had given me their regeneration energy... but when I looked around, no one was there, and I was no longer on Gallifrey."
The Doctor finishes the sentence for you, "You were brought to Earth."
You nod, "I still have no idea who did it. But now, I can't leave. And all those years, my memories were locked away in that old pocket watch until I met you... and then the stars started to go out once more, and I knew I had no choice… I couldn't stay with you."
"All those years... you were alone, just like me," the Doctor says, and you look away before sitting atop one of the crates by the pillar, sighing, "I need to leave again... planets could disappear and galaxies could collapse at any second, and we'd be back where we started."
The Doctor remains silent as you close your eyes, resting your head on one of the stacked crates behind you. You yearn for him. Every atom in your being longs for his presence, yet every angle you examine seems to present an unsolvable puzzle. Thus, you convince yourself that distancing is the best course for everyone involved. How does one repay a sacrifice of such magnitude?
Then, you detect his approaching footsteps, and he settles comfortably beside you, shoulders brushing as he leans in. "Or... we could finally figure out a way to solve the paradox."
Opening your eyes, you shoot him a pointed look. "Doctor, we're in the middle of yet another crisis. A spaceship just landed, and we have no bloody clue who the hell we're dealing with right now. And you want to solve the impossible with our situation?"
"Who says I can't multitask?" he retorts, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. You lightly smack him on the arm, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. Memories of the carefree early days flash through your mind, recalling lingering gazes and soft touches exchanged. Licking your lips nervously, you release a heavy breath, "One problem at a time. We have another alien on the loose."
The Doctor takes that as a win, a calculated risk, with the universe as a potential consequence. He's never demanded anything, and for the first time, he yearns for something for himself. He envisions it — hope — the prospect of finally rewriting the ending you both desperately desire.
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The sonic clicks and buzzes as the Doctor conjures a holographic screen, displaying the schematics of the spacecraft that recently landed nearby. He retrieves his glasses from his coat pocket, donning them as he peruses the screen. Pressing a few buttons, he zooms in on the bottom part of the ship before highlighting the drive.
Frowning, your eyes narrow as an unsettling weight settles at the pit of your stomach while reading what's on the screen.
"Too good for us now?" Shirley remarks as she rolls up in her wheelchair. The Doctor briefly glances at her, nodding, and casually greets, "Evening."
Shirley smiles knowingly as she looks between the two of you. "Doctor. I see you and my colleague have talked. Has galaxies and universes collapsed yet?"
The Doctor hums, "Mmmm, not yet. Soon maybe, if I could get her to kiss me."
You smack him on the shoulder a little harder this time, and he yelps out, "Ow!" Making a face at him, you retort, "Oh, sod off!"
The Doctor gives you a cheeky smile while Shirley chuckles next to you. She then looks at the holographic screen on display, and the Doctor brings his focus back to the problem at hand, saying, "That’s a double-bladed dagger drive, damaged by laser fire which means we’ve got two sets of visitors at war with each other."
He glances at Shirley politely, "Nice to meet you. Did you get the heat readings on deceleration?" Shirley chuckles and clicks her tongue, "Oh, I got everything." She unfolds her tablet to give to the Doctor, who presses a button on his sonic screwdriver to close the holographic screen. Taking the tablet, he begins to analyze the readings as your colleague introduces herself, "Shirley Anne Bingham, UNIT Scientific Advisor number 56."
The Doctor sounds delighted, saying, "Oh! I was Scientific Advisor number one."
Shirley smiles, "No, I know. I’ve read the files. I’m gonna get a bonus just for meeting you."
The Doctor makes a face, not used to humble praise. "Oh."
Shirley then asks, "But why are you hiding away? We’re on the same side and it can’t be ‘cause of her now." She looks at you, and you also turn your attention to the Doctor.
He slightly groans and inhales sharply before replying, "It’s all a bit mad, Shirley. I don’t know who I am anymore."
Shirley crosses her legs in the wheelchair and says matter-of-factly, "Well, you look like the Doctor to me."
The Doctor shrugs, "Well, exactly. The one in the skinny suit. After that, I wear a bow tie. After that, I’m a Scotsman. After that, I’m a woman."
Shirley frowns, "But that’s your future. You can’t know that. It’s forbidden."
The Doctor replies, "I regenerated. And she became me."
Both of Shirley’s eyebrows rise, and her eyes widen as she says, "You got your old face back?"
The Doctor replies with a resounding pop, "Yep."
"But why?" Shirley asks, and the Doctor sighs, "Well, that’s what I’m worried about."
He then inhales deeply before continuing, “Because, besides this lovely stubborn woman right next to me,” you pinch the bridge of your nose briefly as he continues, “I've got this friend called Donna Noble. She was my best friend in the whole wide universe. I absolutely love her as much as I love this one right here.” The Doctor pulls a face and pouts, puffing out a breath as his thick eyebrows furrow, he says, “Oh. Hmm. Do I say things like that now?”
Shirley smiles at him while commenting, “Sounds like a good thing to say.”
You mumble, “I’m not used to this.”
“But Donna took the mind of a Time Lord into her head. I had to wipe her memory to save her life. If she ever remembers me she will die. So what happens next?” The Doctor said with emphasis and leaned closer to you and Shirley, “I get this face back, and the TARDIS lands right next to her. I turn around, there’s her husband. A spaceship crashes in front of her. That led me here to my other best friend in the whole wide universe, my Time Lady who I thought was dead for many years. It’s like she’s drawing us in.” The Doctor finishes, and you and Shirley give each other a look, processing everything he has just said. Especially you, who was processing the fact he called you his. You and Shirley blinked a few times before Shirley said, “What? She’s making it happen?”
The Doctor shakes his head, “No, she’s got no idea. She’s so ordinary. She’s brilliant. She’s got this beautiful daughter. She’s happy. Is she? Hmm.” He pauses before saying in a lower tone, “But the universe is turning around the two people I love the most again. I don’t believe in destiny, but if destiny exists, then it's heading straight for Donna Noble and quite possibly the love of my life right next to me.”
You blink in surprise, opening your mouth to try and say something, maybe correct him, but nothing comes out, so you sit there, mouth gaping next to him like a fish while Shirley has a toothy grin as you say to the Doctor, “Okay, I’m still not used to whatever this is… and I don’t think I ever will be. You’re kind of freaking me out a little, dear.”
The Doctor grins, “Ooh, are we doing pet names now darling?”
You rub your right eye, feeling a migraine beginning to form, “I… What the hell is happening? You sure you’re alright? Last time you regenerated into this form you had a high fever and you were… completely out of it.”
The Doctor scrunches his nose and sniffs, “I feel great. Fantastic even!”
You purse your lips, observing the Doctor from head to toe, and then focus on his eyes—those warm, inviting brown eyes. Softly, you remark, “You've grown.”
The Doctor returns your gaze, his lips forming a quirked-up smile that reveals a dimple. "Just a little bit, yeah."
Shirley interjects, steering the conversation back on course, “You said it was also heading for Donna. What for?”
The Doctor responds with a swift, “I don’t know.” Shirley replies with an, “Oh.” The Doctor continues, with deep emphasis, “But she can’t remember. I won’t be the one who kills her.”
Shirley nods, and the tablet in the Doctor’s hands beeps. He looks at it, saying, “Right. There’s no sign of a pilot, but that’s not an automatic drive, so you should look for–”
“Ma’am,” a soldier interrupts, cutting off the Doctor. He slinks back into the shadows, and you and Shirley listen to what the soldier has to say. “We found the escape pod. No sign of life, but we’re moving out to secure the site.”
Shirley quickly replies, “Good work, soldier. Go get it.” Dismissing the soldier and watching her walk away, the Doctor moves to stand, removing his glasses and putting them away, ready to follow the soldier. But Shirley raises her hand and says to him, “Uh, yeah, yeah. Not you two, mate. I’ve got this. Off you pop. Bye-bye.”
Shirley begins to roll her wheelchair away, leaving the Doctor and you confused. The Doctor then calls out to her, “Waited your whole life?”
To which Shirley throws a look over her shoulder as she responds with a smirk, “You wish.”
The Doctor looks at you, and you look up at him. He turns his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it with your hand. You glance at his hand and back to his eyes; he sees the uncertainty swirling through your gaze.
The Doctor speaks gently, “I know you aren’t ready and you’re scared… but I know you’re brave. And the universe listens to the brave. C’mon, it’s time to be brave again.”
You release a shaky exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat and dismissing the rational urge to walk away from him. Taking his hand, he tugs you along, pushing his legs into a run with you, hand-in-hand.
He thrusts the exit door open, utilizing his sonic screwdriver with his other hand on the back of the UNIT truck, the chains rattling as the trunk hatch pops open, pulling you with him to settle at the back of the truck.
As the UNIT truck pulls away, you see Shirley waving you off, and the Doctor gives her a small salute while you offer her a faint smile.
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CHISWICK, LONDON – EVENING, 2023
You constantly poked your head out to see the stars, in case anything had changed. The Doctor held your hand, squeezing it every time you did, quietly reassuring you that whatever you faced, you'd do it together.
Arriving in the residential area, a long street lined with cars and now multiple UNIT trucks and soldiers running around, you could hear Donna shouting, “Oh, what the hell is it doing in my shed? Get out of my garden!”
The Doctor ran towards the sound of her voice, and you followed him. Reaching Donna's home, the Doctor pounded on the door, “Let us in! Let us in!”
Sylvia glared at the Doctor as she briskly walked towards him, but he exclaimed happily, “Sylvia! Oh, Sylvia! So nice to see you again. Could you let us in?”
Sylvia angrily whispered, “You said that if she sees you again, she will die. Well, no. If – if she remembers me. That’s slightly different.”
You heard and saw Donna through the stained glass yelling from down the hall, “No such thing as spaceships? We’ve got a bloody Martian in the shed!”
Sylvia angrily said, “Just get out of here, now.” But the Doctor knelt down to peek through the mail slot to see all the commotion, finding a small white fluffy creature with big eyes. “Oh, wow. He’s so cute,” the Doctor mumbled. With no other choice, he used his sonic to unlock the door as Sylvia told Donna, “Don’t look! Don’t look. It doesn’t exist.”
As the Doctor walked down the hall, with you trailing behind him, Sylvia whirled around to slap the Doctor. He grunted and groaned, “Here we go again.”
“It’s that man!” You recognized Rose say as Donna pointed at the Doctor, “Oh, it’s the skinny man!”
Sylvia continued to try and gaslight Donna, outstretching both her arms to block both of you, “He’s not there! You can’t see him. And there’s no monster. Oh, for the love of God, none of this is real!”
You and the Doctor ducked down and crawled to the creature to help assist them. In the middle of all the shouting and noise, you saw Shaun Temple appear, saying, “Hey, hey. Dad’s home.”
Everyone stood at a standstill, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next. After a pause, Shaun commented with a small smile, “Something smells nice.” Sylvia smiled, “Tuna madras.”
“Meep, meep.”
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As you and the Doctor sat on the floor, he carefully wrapped Meep’s injury in his hands with medical tape, while you quickly assessed if the Meep had any more injuries. Sylvia spoke to Donna, “We should think about infection. I mean, I think this man should deal with this beast, and we can leave him alone and go back to mine.”
Donna pulled her arm away from Sylvia and gestured around the Meep, “Never mind. Never mind about the ferret from Mars.” She gave you and the Doctor a pointed look as she growled out, “Who the hell are you two?”
You looked to the Doctor for help, and he stumbled over his words, “I– um. What was it?” He looked to Shaun who replied, “A friend from Nerys.” To which the Doctor promptly agreed, “That’s it.”
Donna scrunches her nose and says, “Nerys. Well, now it all makes sense. That viper in the nest.” She continues and points to the Meep, “I’m not going anywhere. We could sell mad Paddington for a million quid.”
Everyone reacted, giving Donna a pointed look and a noise of disagreement, “Woah!” Donna tried to justify her comment by saying, “You fill the fridge!”
The Doctor’s expressive eyebrows furrowed, and he asked Donna, “What did happen to all your money?” Donna got defensive and threw back, “Why are you so interested in us? Everywhere you go, there you are. Now you got this woman with you,” She gestured to you, “are you sure you’re safe with him, darling? Is he forcing you to be with him? Did he kidnap you?!”
You blinked wildly at Donna, “Uh, no– I’m good. He’s my partner.”
The Doctor smirked at you, “Ooh, I’m your partner?” To which you narrowed your eyes at him, “Quiet, you.” He pouted but continued to finish wrapping the injury of the Meep, then the Doctor said, “There is one person missing. I used to know your grandad, Wilf.”
Donna shook her head, “He’s not with us anymore.”
The Doctor had a somber expression as he nodded, “Right. Course. He wasn’t young; he was—” His lower lip trembled as he admitted, “I loved that man. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Donna shook her head, emphasizing, “He’s not dead.” Sylvia shot the Doctor a sharp look, “You idiot.”
The Doctor gaped at them, and Donna continued to share, “He’s in sheltered accommodation. He’s 94. He can’t manage the stairs.” Shaun took over, saying, “We were lucky. We couldn’t afford it, but this offer came along.”
Rose smiled, painting a vivid picture, “It’s amazing. He’s got this room, like a cottage and a garden, and it’s almost free.”
“Run by that lot in the middle of town? UNIT? This woman in charge, Kate, she says he’s an old soldier, she’ll look after him.” Shaun said, and the Doctor's face lit up, “Right. I know her. She’s looking after Wilf. Brilliant. Brilliant.”
Shaun tilted his head as he looked at you, “You look very familiar… Weren’t you with Kate as you were helping with the accommodations for Wilf?”
Your lips pinched together as you nodded, “Yeah, I work with UNIT. I check on him regularly; he’s wonderful.”
“Meep, meep.”
You and the Doctor turned to the fluffy white creature in front of you, and the Doctor’s eyebrows raised as he inhaled sharply, “Yes! The Meep. I promise I can help him get home. Then you’ll never have to see me, or well, the both of us ever again.”
Rose looked at the Doctor and gave him a questioning look, “You’re assuming he as a pronoun? Hmm.”
The Doctor took it in stride and nodded, “True. Yes. Sorry. Good point.” He quickly turned to the creature and asked, “Are you he, or she, or they?”
The high-pitched voice of the Meep responded, “My chosen pronoun is the definite article. I am always the Meep.”
The Doctor’s expression shifted to one of understanding as his thick eyebrows raised and he nodded, “Oh. I do that. But you were shot down. Who wants you dead?”
You tilt your head, captivated by the Meep's explanation, “The Wrath Warriors. They cultivate Meepkind for our beautiful fur. But then the galaxy said, ‘No more fur. It’s wrong. So the Wrath Warriors slaughtered their livestock.”
The Doctor crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face, and leisurely leans back on the couch, letting his back rest against it, “You’re a fashion victim.”
A collective groan escapes from all the humans in the room, “No.”
The Doctor quickly mumbles an apology, and the Meep continues, “Now, they will hunt me down till there are no Meeps left.” The Meep sniffs, “It breaks both my hearts.”
You and the Doctor exchange surprised glances, both of your eyebrows raised. The Doctor shares with the Meep as he gestures to both of you, “You got two hearts? So do we.”
Donna quickly catches onto the Doctor's revelation and frowns, “You’ve got what?”
Sylvia tries to downplay what the Doctor just exposed, stammering as she speaks to Donna, “No. He means it like a metaphor. Like two minds. Do you?” You and the Doctor shake your heads, but suddenly there’s a pounding at the door.
“Open up!”
“Well, what the hell is it now?” Donna exclaims, her frustration evident as she wonders why all these strange anomalies keep happening. The Doctor pushes himself up, and you assist him with his navy blue coat as he puts it on. He continues addressing everyone in the room, “Ah, good. The soldiers! They can give us a lift.”
As he goes to answer the door, leaving you with the Meep and Donna’s family, Rose can't help but ask, “Are you two…”
Your cheeks feel flush, the tips of your ears turning warm, “Yep.”
Just as Donna is about to make a cheeky comment, you hear the Doctor slam the front door shut, loudly informing you all, “I think we need to run. Woah!”
Suddenly, an explosion rocks the backdoor, causing everyone to hit the ground with a collective yelp. You and the Doctor peek to look at the new visitor; arthropods, with a tough chitinous exoskeleton. With their external skeleton acting as a skelo-shield they had formidable strength. Their eyes were like large red lights. Seeing the Wrath Warriors enter while saying, “Wrath, attack formation! Surrender the Meep!”
UNIT soldiers burst in from the main entrance, their voices echoing down the hallway as they shout instructions to each other. The distant hum of gunfire and the vivid flashes of lasers light up the space, creating a chaotic symphony that fills your senses.
Donna, caught in the middle of the sudden onslaught, shouts in confusion and frustration, “What the hell is going on?”
The Doctor deftly manipulates his sonic screwdriver, adjusting its settings. He turns to Shaun and inquires, “Where’s your car?”
Shaun, bewildered but cooperative, responds, “Uh, five- five doors down.”
“Excellent.” The Doctor nods. He pivots, activating the sonic screwdriver to generate large, rectangular force fields. The blue glow emanating from the force fields reveals a recent upgrade, and you can't help but smile, commenting, “Nice upgrade, love.”
“Thanks, dearest. Help me move this, won’t you?” The Doctor passes the sonic to Donna, who handles it with familiarity. You and the Doctor work together to slide the force field into the first section of the hallway, dodging blaster shots as you go. Once in the living room again, you take the sonic from Donna, creating your force field with the Doctor’s scientific instrument. The Doctor observes you with admiration, and together, you slide the final force field into place, sealing off the area where the Wrath Warriors were firing from.
Immediately, the Doctor issues a commanding directive to the Noble-Temple family and the Meep, “Upstairs! Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up!” They follow the urgent order, shrieking as they ascend the stairs, sandwiched between the force fields that shield them from the relentless onslaught of gunshots and laser fire.
“Come on, Meep!” The Doctor encourages, executing an energetic dance of hopping and flailing arms. The Meep responds with a whimper, “No.” Undeterred, you and the Doctor persist, the Doctor continuing his lively hopping routine, insisting, “Come on! That’s it.”
You guide the Meep up the stairs, the Doctor closely behind. A reassuring hand rests on your back as the trio ascends. When you're halfway across the corridor, a deafening explosion erupts from behind. The Noble-Temple family screams in fear, and you're thrown to the ground. However, the Doctor reacts swiftly, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to break your fall. In a protective move, he cushions the impact with his body, leaving you on top of him.
You swiftly roll off him, your palms hitting the floor as you propel yourself upward. Grasping the Doctor's hand, you haul him to his feet, both of you swiftly turning around to confront the aftermath—a colossal, gaping hole now occupying the space where a window once stood. Donna's cry of agony echoes through the room, "My house!"
Despite the devastation, there's no time for dwelling. The Doctor urgently directs everyone, gesticulating emphatically, "Upstairs. Upstairs, upstairs!"
Observing the Wrath Warriors soaring menacingly through the breached window, and amidst the symphony of gunfire and laser blasts echoing from the stairs, you and the Doctor deftly ascend to the third floor. With a swift motion, he lowers the ladder leading to the attic, urgently urging everyone, "Up we go! Fast as you can."
The entire group efficiently ascends to the attic. Positioned beside a robust brick wall connecting attics along the street, you and the Doctor huddle close. The Doctor showcases the device in his hand, proclaiming, "This is a sonic screwdriver. And if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete." He flips it in one hand before activating it, causing vibrations to ripple through the mortar.
Shaun interjects, "That's not concrete. That's mortar." Donna, in her familiarly exasperated tone, sighs and quips, "Thank you, Bob the Builder."
With a determined push, you and the Doctor dislodge the bricks, prompting them to cascade down. Donna crouches beside the Doctor, complimenting, "Skinny minnie, you're not bad."
The Doctor grins at Donna, "You think?"
However, Sylvia intervenes, frowning as she guides Donna aside, firmly asserting, "No, she doesn't. Now move."
"Come on. Five houses down," the Doctor grunts, effortlessly moving aside a box brimming with Christmas decorations. He takes the lead, guiding the family through the interconnected attics.
Traversing through these loft spaces, you witness the chaotic scene unfolding outside, with laser beams and gunshots punctuating the air. Explosions resonate in the distance as you navigate the makeshift route, carefully descending a staircase. Along the way, you stealthily pass by someone deeply immersed in sleep on a couch, oblivious to the turmoil around them.
Upon reaching a door, the Doctor jostles it open, revealing a view of the black cab parked a few meters away. Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and distant shouts, the Doctor extends his hand and requests, "Can I have the keys?" Shaun promptly hands them over.
As the Wrath Warriors advance with their menacing backs turned, the Doctor swiftly swings the door open, directing the family and the Meep into the sanctuary of the black cab. Positioned in the passenger seat, you observe the Doctor deftly using his fingers to check the pulse of a fallen UNIT soldier. Abruptly, a Wrath Warrior pivots, growling, "Meep located. Stop the Meep!"
Evading blaster fire with nimble agility, the Doctor slips into the driver's seat, swiftly igniting the engine and propelling the cab into motion. The Meep whimpers, "Help! Save the Meep!"
As the Doctor skillfully navigates away, Donna exclaims, "Oh my God!" Shaun pivots within the cab, jubilantly stating, "You did it!" Meanwhile, Rose chimes in, "We're alive," and Sylvia expresses gratitude, "Thank you."
"Meep, meep."
While the Doctor keeps a vigilant eye on the side mirrors during the escape, there's a discernible shift in his tone, "Either we've escaped, or we've got things very, very wrong."
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UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE, LONDON – EVENING, 2023
The Doctor skillfully maneuvers the cab, smoothly parking it in an underground garage. A contemplative furrow graces his forehead as he steps out of the vehicle. With an attentive courtesy, he opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to alight from the cab. Simultaneously, he opens the back passenger door, facilitating the exit of the Meep.
The Doctor deftly extracts a barrister's wig from the depths of his coat, perching it atop his head with an air of theatrical flair. Meanwhile, the Meep positions itself purposefully in front of the cab. In a tone of authoritative declaration, the Doctor announces, "This court is now in session."
With a swift motion, he retrieves his trusty sonic screwdriver, and it emits a distinctive whiz as he proclaims, "Intercept teleport!"
The Meep emits a piercing shriek, swiftly retreating a few meters behind you and the Doctor. Donna, emerging from the cab, questions, "What the hell are you doing?" The Doctor, with an authoritative air, responds, "Silence in the court."
In the blink of an eye, two Wrath Warriors materialize just across from you and the Doctor. You stand there, massaging your face with your hand, as he adopts a menacing tone and declares, "I’m invoking Shadow Proclamation protocols 15, P, and 6. Under my jurisdiction, there will be no violence until such time I deem it fit and proper. Is that understood?"
The Wrath Warriors nod in compliance, dutifully stowing away their weapons to their sides. The Doctor, brandishing his sonic, gestures towards the taxi, asserting, “Now, exhibit A. The taxi. No scorch marks. Donna, can you confirm?” Donna swivels around, inspecting the taxi behind her, and nods, “Um. Yes, no, nothing.”
You arch your eyebrows, interjecting, “We were hit by plasma bolts, but there isn’t a mark.” The Doctor affectionately kisses your forehead, remarking, “Clever girl.” You duck your head, feeling a slight warmth in your chest and cheeks. He proceeds, “And that soldier in the street. He was unconscious, not dead.” Pointing at the Wrath Warriors' guns with his sonic screwdriver, he continues, “Exhibit B. Those guns are stun guns. Is that correct?”
The right Wrath Warrior nods, “The guns apply a mild and harmless neural anesthetic. For the record, my name is Sergeant Zogroth.” The left Wrath Warrior adds on and says, “And I am Constable Zreeg.”
The Meep interjects from behind you, its large ears folding to the side, “But the evil Wrath Warriors want to kill the Meep.”
“The only ones out to kill were the soldiers with the swirling eyes,” the Doctor asserts, gesturing in a circular motion with his sonic, his eyes widening to emphasize his point. “Were they coming to hurt you, the Meep? Or save you?” The Doctor eyes the furry creature suspiciously.
“If I may speak,” Sergeant Zogroth says, and the Doctor promptly replies, “Address the court.”
“The story of the Meep is a tragic tale. Their planet basked in the light of a living sun. Until one terrible day, the sun went mad,” Sergeant Zogroth began, his voice laden with the weight of the narrative. Constable Zreeg chimed in, “A psychedelic sun.”
Sergeant Zogroth continued, “Its radiation mutated all of Meepkind into cruel beasts who live for conquest.”
The Doctor's face lights up with realization, "The eyes. That's solar psychedelia." Sergeant Zogroth adds, “It renders them as maniacs.”
“The Meep army captured the Galactic Council, beheaded them, and ate them,” Constable Zreeg revealed, sending shivers down your spine. You and the Doctor exchange a grimace at the horrifying revelation. “The Wrath Warriors were summoned. And we fought across the stars, a long and awful battle,” Sergeant Zogroth continued with a somber tone.
“Meepkind died rather than surrender. And now, only this one survives. Their leader, the most cruel and despicable of all,” he added, pointing to the Meep, who responded with a plaintive, “Meep, meep.”
The Doctor, adopting a composed stance, interjects, “Now. Let’s be fair. It’s your turn, the Meep. Witness for the defense. So, what do you say?” The Doctor crosses his arms, and you observe as the Meep's innocent visage transforms into something more sinister and monstrous.
The Meep's sharp teeth are bared as it growls defiantly, "Oh, to hell with this!" With a swift motion, it brandishes a weapon, declaring, "Exhibit C!" The Meep takes aim and fires, bringing down the two Wrath Warriors, their bodies collapsing to the ground. You, the Doctor, and Donna quickly rush to the fallen foes. The Doctor, during the action, removes his barrister wig. The Meep, in a sinister tone, adds, "No stun guns for me! Just die!"
Shaun leaps out of the cab, urgently shouting, "Donna! Donna, don't!" Despite his plea, Donna remains fixated on the fallen warriors, her concern evident. You find yourself beside the Doctor on the ground as the Meep triumphantly declares, "And here they come! My soldiers of the psychedelic sun!"
Suddenly, a convoy of UNIT vehicles arrives, accompanied by soldiers with their distinctive headgear, forming a protective perimeter around all of you. Their authoritative voices ring out, "Obey the Meep!"
Donna, her maternal instincts flaring, turns to Shaun and passionately commands, "Get out! Get Rose out!"
Shaun swiftly maneuvers to the driver’s seat while Rose and Sylvia settle back in the taxi. However, the UNIT soldiers, now under the control of the Meep, have you all surrounded with no clear escape.
“I don’t need to pretend, for I am the Beep of all the Meeps,” the Meep declares, grinning menacingly with its sharp teeth.
Sergeant Zogroth emits a final groan, his parting words being, “Sergeant Zogroth regrets retirement from active duty.” His eyes dim, and his body goes limp. Donna, disgusted, confronts the Meep, saying, “I was right. You are a monster.”
The Meep revels in Donna’s anger, taunting, “And you believed every word I said. You stupid woman! With your weird child!”
Donna, ready to confront the Meep for insulting her daughter, stands defiantly, retorting, “Oh, don’t you dare!”
The Meep, relishing the confrontation, points its weapon at Donna, threatening, “Oh, I dare!”
You quickly rise, positioning yourself in front of Donna, raising your hands in a protective stance. Simultaneously, the Doctor moves across the floor on his knees, hands raised, pleading, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! But— Last-minute evidence! Me.”
He emphatically points to himself and exclaims, “Why are there two more two-hearted species on this planet? Unless we are part of a strategy by the Wrath Warriors to outfox you? If you kill me and her and fail to take this family hostage, you’ll never find out, will you?”
The Meep hums, then commands the soldiers, “Bring them!”
The Doctor stands animatedly, “Good! Now, look, I can suggest a much better way off this planet than a double-bladed dagger drive. ‘Cause that thing is gonna—”
His sentence remains unfinished as he is abruptly knocked out by a UNIT soldier. The Meep cackles triumphantly as the rest of you are ushered into the back of a truck, alongside the unconscious Doctor.
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On the truck's floor, the Doctor lay with his head resting on your lap, his unconscious form a testament to the challenges you faced. Your fingers moved soothingly through his untamed, spikey hair, offering a quiet comfort amid the tension.
Donna observed the scene, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How long have you two been together?" she inquired, attempting to place where she might have encountered you before.
"A good number of years," you replied, choosing to keep the more intricate details to yourself, considering the Doctor's timeless nature.
Rose, equally intrigued, posed another question, "Are you two married?"
A snort escaped you. "Nope. I don't think he wants that with me if I'm being honest."
“Why?” Rose pressed on.
Your gaze drifted, and you sniffed softly. "I’m all sorts of wrong for him. And sometimes, it scares me. The emptiness I see in my eyes,” you admitted, vulnerability seeping into your words. Your eyes lingered on the Doctor as you continued, “The Doctor is brilliant. He is truly brilliant. After all he’s been through... he deserves everything good and more… more than me.”
As your confession lingered in the air, the Doctor began to stir awake, bringing a momentary hush to the truck. His eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped him as he gradually sat up, settling next to you.
Donna eyed the Doctor with suspicion, her narrowed gaze fixed on him. "Who are you?" she questioned, her tone demanding answers.
The Doctor, still feeling the effects of his earlier unconsciousness, touched the back of his head with a wince. "I’m just passing by," he nervously replied, attempting to deflect her inquiries.
Undeterred, Donna redirected her attention to her mother, Sylvia, and pressed on, "Do you know him?" Sylvia, in an attempt to conceal any familiarity, shook her head, responding, "No."
Donna, frustrated and puzzled, continued, "You act like you know him. Ever since he arrived, it’s like—" She heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly halting her train of thought. "I’m so stupid!" she declared, voicing her self-reproach.
Shaun quickly reassured his wife, "No. No, you’re not."
Donna shook her head, lost in contemplation. "We could be living somewhere far away from here. Monte Carlo. Switzerland." She then turned to her daughter Rose, who sat beside her. "And you— And you’d be safe, Rose." Donna pulled Rose into a comforting side hug. "It’s all my fault. Gave away that lottery money."
The Doctor, unable to resist his curiosity, interjected, "Why?"
Donna shot him a glare. "Because. There are places out there where people are in danger. And in pain. And fear. And I could help. Just felt the sort of thing he would do." Her words hung in the air, revealing a sense of duty and compassion that drove her actions.
Abruptly, the truck jolts to a stop, resulting in the Doctor colliding with one of the crates, eliciting a pained groan. You swiftly move to assist him. The truck door swings open, and a stern voice commands, "Out!"
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MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS 
NORTH LONDON, – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023
The UNIT soldiers briskly led you towards the heart of the steelworks, where the Meep's spaceship had strategically landed.
"It didn't choose the steelworks by accident. It came here to be mended," the Doctor remarked as the group neared the spacecraft. The Meep made a grand entrance, seated on a makeshift throne of steel carried by a procession of UNIT soldiers. With its menacing teeth and booming voice, it declared, "Hail to the Meep!"
A hypnotic chant echoed through the steelworks as multiple officers joined in unison, "Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High. Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High."
"Human scum, behold my vessel to the stars! Far beyond your tiny, grasping minds," Beep the Meep declares with an air of arrogance. You respond with an eye roll of annoyance, and the Doctor shakes his head while humorously interjecting, "I name this ship the Delusions of Grandeur."
Beep the Meep growls in protest, "Meep."
"You can't fire those engines. Not from here. A dagger drive gets its energy by stabbing down. It would extract, ooh, five square miles? The whole of London town burnt as fuel," the Doctor explains, his tone serious and concerned.
Rose, wearing a frown, adds, "But that's nine million people."
"A great day for Meepkind. And the start of a new reign of terror as the Meep return to the stars for revenge. And feasting. Now, activate the initializers," the Meep commands, its voice dripping with malevolence.
A disciplined UNIT soldier swiftly responds, "Initializers activated."
The low hum of the spaceship's engines reverberates through the steelworks as the Meep grins with an evil glint in its eyes, proclaiming, "Brandish the gravity stanchions."
"Gravity stanchions brandished," announces a focused UNIT soldier as the prongs of the spacecraft forcefully dig into the ground.
"Calibrate the flight deck," the Meep commands with a sense of authority, intensifying the tension in the air.
A disciplined UNIT member announces, "Flight deck calibrated."
The Meep, perched on its steel throne, commands, "Take the prisoners on board! Then I’ll decide which one to eat first. Hail to Meep!"
The rhythmic chant of the hypnotized UNIT soldiers fills the air, "Hail to the Most High! Hail to the Meep!" while the Meep indulges in a sinister cackle, reveling in its delusions of grandeur.
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The liftgate slams shut, transporting you to a different floor. Thoughts of subduing the UNIT guards swirl in your mind as the lift grinds to a halt. As the gate creaks open, Shirley appears, wearing a mischievous grin. "Evening, boys."
With swift precision, she activates a concealed device beneath her wheelchair, firing two darts at each soldier. The tranquilizers swiftly take effect, rendering the guards unconscious.
"You've got weapons in your wheelchair," the Doctor exclaims, eyeing Shirley with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She glances back at him, a knowing look in her eyes, and responds, "We all have. You've got your girl to thank for that. Come on." With a nod, she leads the way, wheeling herself confidently through the complex.
"Right. You lot, the family, you can get out through that door," Shirley says, gesturing towards the exit on the right. She then turns her attention to you and the Doctor, her tone more serious, "You need to get to the engine control. But the port side’s guarded, and there's no way around it."
A quick exchange of glances between you and the Doctor precedes his question to Shirley, "So what do we do?"
With a confident smirk, Shirley retorts, "I don’t just fire darts, mate." She spins her wheelchair around, revealing hidden capabilities. With the push of a button, two missiles activate and blast through the wall, creating a makeshift path forward. The unexpected firepower leaves you and the Doctor momentarily impressed.
Shirley swiftly directs the family, "You lot run. I’ll fight them off at the lift."
The Doctor tightens his grip on your hand, leading you through the large breach in the wall. The chaotic, metallic environment of the spaceship's bridge unfolds before you. With his trusty sonic screwdriver, the Doctor deftly manipulates the controls, unlocking the gate to the engine control room. As the door creaks open, the two of you step inside, ready to stop the ship from taking off.
The Doctor removes his coat and hangs it on one of the pillars as the ship's system voice declares, “Dagger drive systems initializing.”
In a sudden burst of energy, Donna enters the control room panting, "That's enough… running. Blimey."
The system voice abruptly announces, “Chamber deadlocked.” Panic sets in as the only exit seals shut, leaving the Doctor frustrated. He slams his hands on the door, exclaiming, “No, no, no, no! I told you to go—just don’t!”
Frantically, he moves about the room, urging, “No time. I’ve got this. We’ve got it. We’ve got it. You stay there. Don’t move, Donna!”
The Doctor and you scramble around, pressing buttons and flicking switches, racing against time as the system voice declares, “Star launch in five minutes.”
Climbing up one of the pillars, the Doctor instructs you while you squat on the other side to manipulate hidden switches. Suddenly, the system announces, “Deadlock sealed.” A flicker of discomfort courses through both of you as the ship's mechanisms react.
“It’s been deadlocked,” you groan, and Donna questions, “What’s that mean?” 
The Doctor replies swiftly, “It means, we can do it by hand.”
You move to the far end of the ship, and the system voice chimes in again, “Maxifold bisecting.” A glass pane wall starts dividing the room, separating you from the Doctor and Donna. “You can stay on that side Doctor, I—” But then the Doctor rolls under the glass just before it seals, protesting, “Oh. No, no, no, no!”
“Double dagger drive installed and initiated.”
You can feel your eye twitch as you look at the Doctor standing next to you. “Okay, okay. Okay, we can do it with half the room. That’s fine.” The Doctor tries to reassure himself and you look at him wondering why he had to end up on your side of the room.
“Let me help.” Donna insists and the Doctor is quick to disagree, “No! You can’t get involved.”
Donna looks at the Doctor with a glare, challenging him and the Doctor tries to steady his resolve, “You can’t!”
It's then your turn to shoot him a pointed look. The Doctor groans and pants in frustration before finally surrendering. He instructs Donna, "Switches, the top ones, the blue ones, flick them all down."
Donna diligently follows his directions, swiftly flicking the switches down, while you navigate to a different section of your side of the room to spin a dial a few times. Despite your efforts, it proves futile, and you slump down in disappointment. The Doctor, leaning defeatedly on a pillar, somberly admits, "We've run out of time."
“Ignition in 230.”
The Doctor sighs with a heavy burden on his shoulders as he confides in Donna, "If there was anything else I could do, but there's one thing left."
"Well— Well, then do it," Donna urges, her tone laced with desperation. The Doctor, however, looks down in shame, prompting Donna to insist, "Hurry up and do it! What are you waiting for?"
Pushing himself off the pillar, the Doctor strides over to the glass partition separating Donna from the two of you. "I think… all that coincidence was heading here to save London from burning. 'Cause the three of us can stop this ship. Together."
Donna gasps in realization, "Oh."
As you rise and move towards the glass, locking eyes with Donna, you declare, "But it will kill you."
Donna sharply inhales, and responds easily, “Okay.”
The Doctor’s voice cracks as he says, “You’ll die.”
Donna's lower lip trembles, her eyes reflecting the imminent crisis, as she says, "My daughter is down there."
"Ignition in 180."
Tears well up in Donna's eyes, and her voice stammers with fear, "And it's not just Rose. It's nine million people. Who cares about me?"
The Doctor responds swiftly, his urgency palpable, "I do. We both do."
Donna takes a deep breath, mustering courage, and asks, "But why?" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and continues, "I'm just no one."
The Doctor's expression shifts to one of anger, his eyebrows furrowing as he yells, "No, you are not!"
He takes a few steps back, the weight of the situation evident in his sob and scream, "Why does it have to be this?"
"Entering the final sequence."
The Doctor looks at Donna with a somber gaze, defeated, as he utters the words that trigger Donna's memories, "Westerly. Pelican. Dreams."
Donna is desperate as she says, "I don't— Look, I don't care what it is. All right. Just— just go on and do it, will you?"
"Ignition in 150."
"Tornado. Clifftops. Andante," the Doctor says.
"Get on with it!" Donna shouts.
The Doctor continues, "Grief. Fingerprint. Susurration."
Donna's eyes light up as she begins to remember her adventures, "Oh."
The Doctor and Donna utter the last few words in unison, "Sparrow. Dance. Mexico. Binary. Binary. Binary."
A golden glow emanates from Donna, the metacrisis shimmering through as she regains her memories once more. You and the Doctor press your palms against the glass, witnessing her transformative moment.
"Ignition in 100."
As the glow dissipates, the Doctor anxiously asks, "Are you alright?"
"Ignition in 90."
Donna pants, sighs, and sweeps her bangs away from her eyes as she glares at the Doctor. Inhaling deeply, she says, "I gave away my money."
"Ignition in 75."
The Doctor looks at her, puzzled, "Right, but—"
Donna, expressing a mix of frustration and anger, interrupts, "I gave away all my money. And do you know why, Doctor? I gave it away to be like you. So I could be kind. So I could be nice. So I could be helpful— I—"
Donna releases a frustrated growl as the system voice continues, "Ignition in one minute."
Moving her face closer to the glass panel, Donna continues, "I had a subconscious, infracutaneous, retrofold memory loop making me act as soft as you and give away 166 million pounds!"
"Ignition in 50."
The Doctor, wide-eyed, nods in agreement but attempts to refocus on the urgent matter, "Yes, Donna, but— Destruction of London?"
"Oh, I'll show you destruction, mate," Donna declares, intertwining her fingers before flexing them to crack her knuckles.
"Ignition in 40."
You and the Doctor observe in awe as Donna moves around the control panel with ease. "I'll triple-drive the particle manifesto, overstep the umbilical feed, vindicate the cyberline, and roast the hyperfeeds! Like this!" Donna exclaims, spinning the dial on the lower left of her.
The Doctor navigates about half of the room, deftly flicking switches while instructing, "Maximise the stressfold links!"
"Channel up the booster drive!" Donna commands, pressing a few buttons.
"Inculcate the plexidrones!" You chime in, flicking a few more switches.
"And shatterfry the positrons! Oh yes!" Donna exclaims.
"Twenty, nineteen..."
Donna interrupts, asking, "How long have I got to live?" as she switches off a few controls.
"...sixteen, fifteen..."
All three of you simultaneously answer, "Fifty-five seconds."
"Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."
"The best fifty-five seconds of my life!" Donna exclaims.
"Seven, six, five, four..."
"Because I get to do this!" Donna proudly announces, turning around and simultaneously flicking off several switches.
"Three, two— Ignition halted."
You three watch as the panel flies off the wall; the countdown has stopped, and Donna proudly states, "Donna Noble is descending."
"Ignition reverse. Ignition reverse."
"It’s working!" The Doctor's voice resonates with exhilaration as the tangible effects of the reversed dagger drive unfold before your eyes.
However, your joy is cut short when you notice Donna beginning to falter. Panic sets in, and you urgently cry out, "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"
Swiftly, both you and the Doctor move in unison to catch Donna as she descends, cradling her fragile form in your arms. Donna sighs, her expression reflecting a mix of exhaustion and relief. The Doctor reassures her, "We did it. She’s fine. She’s safe. You saved her."
Donna smiles weakly, and you add, "You saved them all."
In a moment of introspection, Donna questions, "Why did this face come back?" She turns her gaze towards the Doctor, who responds with a sigh, "I don’t know."
"To say goodbye," Donna asserts with a soft smile. She then shifts her attention to you, saying, "Oh, the Stargazer. I’ve missed you."
"I’ve missed you too, Donna, every day," you confess, and the Doctor emits a thoughtful hum.
"Good fun, though," Donna remarks, her chuckles mingling with yours and the Doctor's. The lighthearted moment takes an abrupt turn as Donna's eyes flutter closed, her entire being going limp in the arms of her two closest companions.
A collective sob escapes from you and the Doctor as you sit there, cradling your best friend, a bittersweet mixture of victory and loss filling the air.
Abruptly, the door to the engine control room opens, revealing a cadre of UNIT soldiers with swirling, hypnotized eyes. The air tightens with tension as one of them declares, "We have orders to kill you."
Undeterred, the Doctor retorts defiantly, "Do what you want. This ship isn't going anywhere. You were beaten. By the DoctorDonna." The soldiers, rifles at the ready, cast ominous shadows in the confined space. You resign yourself to the impending threat, feeling the Doctor's protective instinct as he positions himself to shield you.
In a surprising turn, the psychedelic light emitted from the soldiers' eyes screeches and hisses, dissipating into nothingness. Bewilderment echoes through the room, and you join the Doctor in uttering a perplexed, "What?"
Even one of the soldiers can't help but question, "What?"
Donna, roused from her unconscious state, adds her own disoriented, "What?"
The Doctor, his voice tinged with disbelief, softly utters, "You're not dead."
A collective sense of confusion lingers, and Donna, now fully awake, queries, "But how?" as she steadies herself.
After a brief pause, Rose's voice resonates through the intercom, "Can you hear me? Mum? Doctor? Star? I think it's safe for you to come down now."
Donna responds, perplexed, "Rose?"
The Doctor's eyes widen with a sudden epiphany, "Too much power for one person, but you had a child, and the metacrisis passed down. A shared inheritance."
Donna grins, “It was always there. Shining out of her.”
“And she chose her own name,” the Doctor adds.
“Oh, the shed! The shed was her memory of the TARDIS. The toys! Every creature we met, she remembered as a toy,” Donna says with a glint in her eye.
You gape, suddenly realizing, “We are binary.”
“She’s not. Because the Doctor’s—”
The Doctor interjects, “Male.”
“And female,” Donna finishes.
"And neither. And more," Rose says, her voice carrying a warm smile through the intercom.
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Donna rushes down the stairs, her steps echoing in the cavernous steelworks. Rose meets her halfway, and they share an emotional hug, Shaun joining in the embrace.
You and the Doctor follow suit, descending rapidly to the ground floor. Sylvia awaits, and as you approach, the Doctor wraps her in a jubilant hug. He inquires, “Happy now?”
Sylvia responds with a radiant smile, "My father would be impressed. I have no higher compliment." Laughter of triumph fills the air as you and the Doctor proceed to the nearby control center.
Shirley deftly maneuvers her wheelchair towards you and the Doctor, offering her unique perspective. She addresses the Doctor with a sly grin, “There’s a word for you, Doctor. And that word is jammy.”
The Doctor responds with infectious enthusiasm, “Jam on toast.” He decisively slams a button, activating the intercom. With authority, he speaks into the microphone, “Calling the Meep.”
The Meep's defiant voice crackles through the speakers, “You forget I still have my ship. And if I have to explode the engines and rupture this world and damn us all to hell, then I will!” A shared glance between you and the Doctor follows, and he graciously hands you the task of flicking the crucial switch.
With a resounding click, the Meep’s cockpit is ejected into the sky, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the Meep's distressed shrieks. You and the Doctor gaze upward, drawn into the spectacle unfolding against the canvas of the vast night sky.
“There you go.” The Doctor points with a wry smile, observing the Meep’s cockpit deploying a parachute against the cosmic backdrop.
You feel the Doctor's reassuring grip on your waist as he pulls you into his side. Together, you look up, transfixed by the celestial display. The stars twinkle above, and in that moment, you choose to hope and believe that nothing universe-ending has transpired yet.
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As the sun ascends on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, the Wrath Warriors stand sternly with the imprisoned Meep, forming an uneasy tableau. You step forward, addressing them with a heavy heart, "Sergeant Zogroth and Constable Zreeg gave their lives, alongside many Earth soldiers."
The Wrath Warrior, resolute in the face of the aftermath, declares, "Their names will be included in the litany of crimes as the Meep atones in prison for 10,000 years." The Meep, defiant in defeat, mutters, "Oh, I will escape and have my revenge. So you beware, Doctor and Stargazer, because there’s one more thing."
With a determined stride, the Doctor moves closer, inquiring, "Which is?"
“A creature with two hearts is such a rare thing. And to have two of your kind here… Just wait till I tell the boss,” the Meep retorts, an ominous promise lingering in the air. The Wrath Warriors and the Meep vanish in a teleportation, leaving a sobering aftermath beneath the morning sun.
The Doctor, caught in contemplation, mumbles under his breath, "Cryptic. I hate that." He takes a deep breath, turning his attention to Donna and Rose with a sense of urgency, "But… we’ve still gotta fix you two. ‘Cause the metacrisis might have slowed down, but that thing is wrapped around your cortex."
Donna, with an eye roll and a knowing nod, quips, “Yes, we know.”
Rose adds confidently, “We know everything, thanks.”
Donna, in her typical nonchalant manner, shrugs, “And you know nothing. It’s a shame you’re not a woman anymore. ‘Cause she’d have understood.”
Rose, crossing her arms, asserts with confidence, “You’ve got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”
Donna, ever pragmatic, advises, “Just let it go.”
The unity between mother and daughter becomes evident as Rose takes Donna’s hand, and together, they release the accumulated metacrisis energy. Shaun interjects with a grin, “Like I said, mate, how lucky am I?”
Rose, with a joyous laugh, concludes, “After all these years, I’m… finally me.”
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CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023
Shaun skillfully navigates the vehicle, bringing the group back to Camden Market in London. Earlier, you had informed Shirley about the intention to bid farewell to the Doctor and Donna before returning to headquarters. Shirley responded with a nonchalant, "Sure..." accompanied by a discerning look, rolling away from you in her wheelchair.
The Doctor maintains his characteristic chattiness as he informs Donna, "And UNIT has a splendid insurance policy for damage caused during an alien war. While they sort that out..." Approaching the iconic tall blue police box, the TARDIS, the Doctor gestures towards it, saying, "One last trip?"
"Uh, don’t you dare," Sylvie interjects with a pointed look. Donna, casting puppy eyes at both you and the Doctor, laments, “Do you know, I would love to.” She then takes a sharp inhale, sighs, and adds, “But… I have got adventures of my own, bringing up this one.” Donna points her thumb towards Rose.
“Can I see inside?” Rose asks the Doctor curiously, taking a step toward the TARDIS. Donna, however, swiftly moves her away, cautioning, “No. No! No. No.”
Rose sighs, and Donna playfully waves her finger, “No. Because summat will go wrong, and you’ll end up on Mars with Chaucer and a robot shark. And that’s actually happened, hasn’t it.”
The Doctor gives a sheepish, “Oh, yeah.”
“But I was thinking, we could go and see Wilf?” The Doctor suggests to you and Donna.
Donna then says, “Now that is cheating.”
The Doctor pouts, “Just a suggestion.”
“I mean it, don’t you dare.” Sylvie says, and Donna sighs, “But imagine his face, Mum. Oh, he would be so happy. All those secrets Grandad kept for years. He— He thought I’d never remember. And to see the Doctor. One last time.”
The Doctor and Donna make a puppy face to you and Sylvie, urging you to join them. Sylvie relents and gives in, “Oh, all right. But one trip. That’s all. Just one.”
The Doctor turns to unlock the door with his key while Donna laughs with glee, “One tiny, little trip. That is a promise.”
Donna turns to you and the Doctor and gasps in excitement, “It’s like the old days. Just me, the Doctor, and the Stargazer. Together.” She then turns to her family, “Is that all right?”
“Yeah, of course it is,” Shaun says confidently with a huge smile.
“Well, a lot of husbands would worry. You know, me, in a box, with another man.” Donna jokes, and Shaun shrugs and shakes his head, “Yeah. But not him.”
The Doctor looks somewhat offended, but then Donna shoos him to go inside, “Come on, space man.”
In the quiet aftermath, with Donna entering the TARDIS, the Doctor notices the unsure expression on your face. He whispers to Donna to go ahead, and she complies, leaving the two of you alone, behind the TARDIS, sheltered from prying eyes.
With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He cups your face with both hands, his smile revealing dimples that carry the weight of countless adventures. “The stars haven’t gone out.”
Your raised brows betray a hint of skepticism, “Yet…”
The Doctor locks eyes with you, his deep dark brown orbs conveying understanding. As tears well up in your eyes, you break the silence, your voice a fragile whisper, “You have no idea how bad it gets. How scared I am that all of this is temporary and I lose you… and I can’t have you.”
“Hey. Hey, hey. None of that,” he reassures, his gaze unwavering. “So far, everything has been leading me back to you. And when the time comes to face it… we’ll fix it… together. I can’t lose you again. Not ever again.”
His words linger in the air, a vow shaped by the quiet resilience of a Time Lord who has navigated countless challenges across time and space. You respond with a nod, sealing the unspoken pact, and tenderly kiss his wrists. In return, he draws you closer, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“When this is all over,” he declares, “we’re getting married.”
“What?” you screech, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.
“We've waited this long. I’m not spending the rest of my how many years without you,” the Doctor insists, his eyes earnest.
“Is this a proposal?” you inquire, a mixture of surprise and delight in your voice.
“If you want,” he smirks, playfully nonchalant.
On tiptoe, you reach up to kiss the tip of his nose, a tender acknowledgment, “We'll see.” The promise of an unwritten future hangs in the air, held by the shared understanding that time and space will unfold their stories together.
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THE TARDIS
The Doctor guides you inside the TARDIS and closes the door behind him and both of you are in awe of the major changes of the entire TARDIS. Huge curved white walls with round circles that glow with lights and many ramps that lead to different corridors.
The Doctor hangs his coat on one of the railings as he grins and laughs, “Whoa!” He begins to run around all the ramps with the energy of a little kid as he shouts, “This is amazing!”
“It changed! Oh, you clever thing! Look at that!” The Doctor laughs as he finishes his lap around the new interior of the TARDIS. He runs over to the console and smiles, “It’s got this!”
He pushes a lever forward, and the lights within the TARDIS shift to a vibrant orange, casting a warm glow. Your gaze is drawn upward in awe as the ambient hum of the time machine resonates around you. Running your fingers along the railings, you can feel the TARDIS responding, and you affectionately murmur, “Hello, sweet thing. I missed you too.”
Amid the luminous atmosphere, the Doctor darts around the console, engaging with switches and buttons on the refurbished device. Donna, observing the transformation, remarks, “It’s still a bit nippy.”
The Doctor protests, “Oh, come on!”
Undeterred, Donna concedes with a grin, “All right…” Her expression changes as she admires the surroundings, “It’s gorgeous!” Laughter bubbles up from both Donna and the Doctor, who joins in the jubilation, bouncing excitedly.
“It’s cleaner. And it’s grown,” Donna observes, her laughter echoing through the TARDIS.
Making your way to the console, you overhear Donna questioning the Doctor, “But I— I still don’t get it. I mean, the TARDIS can change all right. But what about your face? Why did it come back?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” the Doctor muses, and Donna, with a snort, retorts, “In your life? Yes!”
With a nonchalant shrug, the Doctor remarks, “Well, I’m stuck with it now.” He continues exploring the console, fidgeting with excitement, and comments, “Oh, this thing is brilliant. It’s even got a coffee machine!” Glancing at you and Donna, he inquires, “You want one?”
You shake your head, “No, thank you, darling.”
“You’re kidding,” Donna says with wide eyes.
“With cold milk, yeah?” The Doctor deftly presses a few buttons, and Donna, smiling, says, “Well remembered.” To your delight, a white cup materializes with coffee and cold milk.
He carefully hands the cup of coffee to Donna who says, “Thank you very much. Careful. It’s how I lost my job. Dropped a coffee in the computer.”
To which the Doctor just hums and moves to flick a few more switches around the console as you lean on a railing, to listen to him say, “I really do remember, though. Every second with you. I’m so glad you’re back ‘cause it killed me, Donna.” The Doctor clicks another switch as he continues on, “It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.”
"We can have more days, can’t we?" Donna inquires, her tone laced with a mix of hope and curiosity. Her eyes reflect a desire for a future filled with shared moments. Continuing with optimism, she suggests, "I mean, why is it such a big goodbye with you? Why is it one last trip? ‘Cause you could visit. With my family."
The Doctor, absorbed in examining a screw, listens attentively as Donna paints a vivid picture of ordinary yet precious moments. "We could do outrageous things, like have tea, dinner, and a laugh! And Rose’s school play. Well, maybe not that. She can’t act. She’s terrible. I don’t know how to tell her. But the point is, you’ve been given a second chance. You can do things differently this time."
Encouraging him to embrace change, Donna suggests, "So why don’t you do something completely new and have some friends?"
The Doctor contemplates the idea, responding with a hesitant "Maybe. Yeah." Donna chuckles, savoring the simplicity of their current moment. "Mmm. Like now," she remarks, lifting her cup as if to toast. "Here we are. Having a coffee."
Before the Doctor can respond, Donna's accidental spillage disrupts the calm, eliciting a gasp from her. "What’s gonna go wrong—" Her sentence is abruptly cut off as the spilled coffee interacts with the TARDIS console, resulting in sparks and flames.
With urgency, Donna questions, "What’s happening?" The Doctor, swift in his actions, ushers both you and Donna away from the unfolding chaos. The TARDIS groans and whines as its engines protest, and the cloister bell rings ominously in the background.
"We could end up anywhere in time and space," the Doctor confesses, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. As the atmosphere fills with anticipation, you brace yourself, thinking, "Here we go again."
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TAGLIST:
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headquarters90 · 5 months
Text
Comfort (Damian Wayne)
Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader
Words:
Warnings: implied depression, nudity but no smut, daddy issues
A/N: It's been awhile since I've posted for the batfam. I think I burnt myself out trying to focus on a series that I was doing for my own pleasure on here anyways. Kind of fighting a current bout myself and decided to write this to make me feel better. Hopefully, I'm back on my grove soon!
Please read
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Releasing a sigh, you rubbed the heel of your palm against your forehead before bringing it down to rub at your eye. You can feel your tiredness sink into you and yet you knew that chances of sleep was slim.
“Beloved?”
Hearing the soft voice, you found yourself turning your head in that direction, noticing the shadow that stood by your window.
“Hi,” you murmured softly, watching as the shadow came closer until the light could hit him and you noticed the concerned look on his face.
“Why are we up so late?” Damian asked softly, putting his weapon against the wall before coming to kneel before you. “Everything alright?”
“Tired,” you answered softly and he frowned softly, watching you before he stood, offering a hand.
“Come on, shower then.”
You lifted your head to look at him, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Tt. Come on, beloved.”
You stared at him and he heaved a sigh before leaning over and lifting you up, causing a squeak to leave you.
“What are you doing?” You questioned and he gave you a dull look.
“We’re going to shower, love,” he answered plainly as he made his way to the bathroom with you in his arms.
“But I don’t-”
“Y/N.”
Scrunching your nose, you nodded as he placed you on the counter before going about getting the shower ready.
Your eyes watched him before they flirted over him. Out of habit, and maybe to try to get out of the shower situation, your eyes searched for any indication for a wound. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’ve patched him up.
If he could, he preferred you to do it anyways.
But you couldn’t see any. So, unfortunately, you’ll have his undivided attention.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before, that wasn’t the issue. You…just didn’t want to focus on yourself right now and you knew that’s what will happen. Especially since he could always tell when you weren’t okay.
You honestly just wanted to lay in bed under the covers and hide away.
“My love?”
You found yourself blinking, your eyes lifted to meet his, and it was only then that you realized he was done getting the shower ready.
And that he had managed to undress in the meantime too.
“Let’s get you undressed, beloved,” he murmured, gently pulling you off the counter.
You allowed him to take your clothes off, silently enjoying the feelings of his hands against your skin.
“I don’t know why you try to put up a fight every time you feel this way,” he spoke softly as one of his hands rested against the side of her neck. “I know it’s not body image. We handled that already.”
“Just…want to hide away,” you admitted quietly, allowing him to lead you into the shower, “and a lot of work.”
“And yet you appreciate it every time,” Damian mused, wrapping his arms around your waist as you melted into him.
“Yeah, I know,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder.
The two of you stood like that for a bit before you felt him press a kiss against your temple as one of his arms reached out for something.
“Close your eyes and tilt your head back,” he ordered softly and you did just that, feeling the water run down your hair before he was tilted your head forward and hands began to massage shampoo into your hair.
He was careful not to get soap in your eyes as he rinsed it out before doing the same thing with conditioner.
Damian was careful and slow when it came to washing your body and it made you give a small smile.
“What about you?” You questioned softly as he reached to turn off the shower. “You just got back from patrol.”
“I’ll worry about myself later,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You being okay is more important right now.”
“Imagine what your brothers would say if they saw you now,” you teased softly, earning a chuckle from him.
“Feeling somewhat better then?” He asked, wrapping a towel around his waist before wrapping one around you.
“A little bit,” you answered, walking out of the bathroom. Stumbling a bit when he gently pushed you towards the bed, you scowled to yourself before taking a seat on said bed, your eyes tracking him as he shuffled through drawers.
He tossed a shirt onto the bed before he pulled on some sweats and you looked at the shirt, smiling softly at the sight of one of the few t-shirts he owned.
Removing the towel from yourself, you pulled the shirt on before moving to get under the covers. He joined you not soon after.
Pulling you into his chest, the two of you laid like that. His fingers gently trailed up and down your back, occasionally tracing some type of pattern or word, and his other hand held yours against his chest.
“Thank you,” you murmured softly, turning your head just enough to press a kiss against his chest.
“Of course, my beloved,” he pressed a kiss against your head, “I’m here whenever you need me,” he promised. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
498 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 8 months
Text
"Just Go With It" - Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Best Friend!Reader - Chapter Seven - FINALE
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a/n: catch up on this fic HERE - thank you all so much for all your love and support with this fic, it has truly meant the world ❤️
Summary: The morning of Aemond's wedding doesn't turn out at all like how any of you anticipated.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, reader is a single mom, fluff, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink if you squint, oral f receiving, unprotected sex
Word Count: 3,830 words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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The morning of what is to, apparently, be Aemond and Floris’s wedding, Aegon walks up to you, an incredulous expression on his face, “You’re seriously moving to Winterfell?”
“Yep,” you say evenly, shoving all your things into your suitcase, Vaegon and Saera still sound asleep, “Not that it’s any of your business, fake boyfriend, but yeah. We’re gonna start the moving process the minute we get back to King’s Landing.”
“So you’re just giving up on him?”
You glance up at Aegon, giving him an annoyed glare, “He was never mine to give up on, Aegon, can you fucking quit it?”
Aegon shakes his head, grumbling to himself, “Man, I thought the Floris thing would make one of you fucking sack up, but clearly not.”
You sink into one of the chairs in the hotel suite, burying your face in your hands, completely overwhelmed by everything that’s happened over the course of the last few days. Last night, you finally admitted it to yourself. You’re in love with your best friend. Maybe you always have been. And you probably always will be. You’re surprised at how Aegon comes to sit beside you, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Look, go get yourself a mimosa or something. You’re clearly stressed, I’ll watch the kids, alright?”
You look at Aegon, giving him a small smile as you nod. You sigh, getting up to head to the bathroom and changing into one of the dresses you bought for this farce of a vacation. It’s a pretty Versace chiffon dress, summery and perfect for the weather, highlighting and contouring all of your curves. You might feel like shit right now, but you don’t have to look it, right? You fix your hair, do your makeup, and head downstairs.
However, the first person you see? The last person in the world you want to talk to. There stands Floris, in a pretty white sundress, talking to the hotel manager, probably figuring something out about the wedding. Before you can make an escape, she sees you and approaches you, a nervous smile on her face.
“Floris,” you smile back at her, making every effort to hide the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes when you think about Aemond marrying someone else, “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she says, her voice a bit shaky before she meets your gaze, “I’d like to consider us friends, would I be wrong in saying that?”
You look at her curiously, “Hm? Oh, sure. Of course.”
“As a friend, are you still in love with Aemond?” Floris’s words make you freeze, but the next sentence she speaks makes you feel as though you can’t breathe, “Because I think he’s still in love with you.”
“I,” you swallow thickly, “Why would you think that?”
“The way the two of you look at each other,” Floris says honestly, “And Aemond laughs at your jokes. He doesn’t laugh at mine…”
“We’re not in love anymore,” you assure her, though it breaks your heart even more with every word you speak, “Aemond wants to be with you. He’s marrying you. He and I are just… Familiar.”
Floris laughs nervously, “Well, that’s a relief. Because I don’t think I could ever stand a chance going up against you.”
You watch as she walks away, turning and heading down to the beach bar to make yourself forget that your best friend is about to get married to someone else.
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A couple of drinks in, Sara comes up and sits beside you, that obnoxious voice of hers ringing out, “Oh, darling, we simply must figure out how you cheated and won last night. Not forgiving you for that,” she says, kissing your cheek and taking a seat beside you.
You grimace slightly and return the kiss, “Ah, didn’t cheat.”
“Where’s Aemond? We fly out today and I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Aemond is,” you laugh bitterly, taking a sip of your Mai Tai, “Aemond is getting married.”
Sara looks at you, knitting her brows together, “Come again?”
“Yeah. Aemond and I are just best friends, Sara,” you say, almost bitterly, “And he’s marrying his boss’s daughter, one of the prettiest, nicest girls I’ve ever met. I was never married to him,” you meet Sara’s confused gaze, “I have two kids whose deadbeat father refuses to spend time with them and who appear to see my best friend as more of a father figure to them than the asshole who knocked me up. And I’m,” you swallow thickly, “I’m fucking in love with him.”
Sara frowns before wrapping you in a tight hug, “Honey…”
“Come on, Sare, I don’t need your pity,” you grumble, though it feels nice to have someone hug you.
“Sweetie, the way Aemond looked at you, the way he talked about you,” Sara says, “That’s a man in love,” she pauses, “And I guess I should be honest with you about something. Jace is gay. We’re just staying together until the divorce is finalized.”
You wince slightly before responding, “You know, the coconut kinda had me thinking that.”
She snickers, whispering to you secretively, “I’ve seen him do that with his soap!”
You both burst into giggles, and you wipe your eyes, tears threatening to spill from laughing so hard, “Man, why didn’t we do this honesty thing before?”
“I don’t know,” Sara grins, “But I’m glad we are now.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to tell the truth, isn’t it?”
You freeze at hearing a very familiar voice. The voice of your best friend.
You turn and see Aemond sitting on your other side, your eyes going wide, “Aem?”
“So were you telling the truth when you said you’re in love with me?” he questions, raising a brow.
Sara whistles nonchalantly and makes her escape, waving goodbye to the both of you. You sigh in annoyance before turning to Aemond.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting married right now?”
“Yeah,” Aemond nods, “And yet, here I am.”
“What happened?”
“Well, there I was, standing in this beautiful venue, staring at this gorgeous girl, and I thought to myself, ‘I’m about to marry the love of my life’,” his words cut you to the core, and you barely manage to hold back your tears until he speaks again, “But the problem was, she wasn’t who was standing in front of me.”
You lift your face, meeting his gaze and question, “She wasn’t?”
Aemond shakes his head before resting a hand on your cheek, “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old. I was just too scared to tell you how I really felt. And that’s on me. I don’t know if I even really realized how strongly I feel about you until last night, when I realized I was going to lose you.”
“I…”
“You’re the person I trust most in this world,” Aemond continues, cupping your face in his hands, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you with every breath in my lungs, every beat of my heart. You are home to me.”
“Aemond,” you whisper, “I’m not Floris. She’s gorgeous and without baggage and-”
“She’s nice, she’s great, yeah. There’s just one problem,” Aemond says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “She’s not you. She’s not you.”
“Aem,” you say seriously, “I have two kids. What are you going to do when we’re not on fake vacation and reality hits and-”
“I love those two kids with everything I have,” Aemond whispers, cutting you off, “Gods, I’ve practically seen them as my own kids since the day you delivered and I was in the room with you, holding your hand. I want to be with those guys 23 hours of the day.”
You give him an odd look, “What about the other hour?”
He smirks at you, making his intentions known, prompting you to laugh as his lips find yours, finally, after all this time. It feels perfect, natural even, as he moves his lips against yours, biting down gently on your lower lip, his tongue massaging yours, exploring your mouth. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, your body pressed against his. When the two of you finally pull apart for air, Aemond is the one who speaks first.
“I am so in love with you, sweetheart.”
You laugh softly before murmuring back, “Shit, I’m so in love with you too, Aem.”
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Aemond tells you that the minute he came clean to Floris and her father, he was promptly fired by one very angry Borros Baratheon. He tells you he plans to start his own firm, and that it feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. But, the two of you have one small hurdle to cross before you fully commit to this new chapter of your relationship.
Or rather, two small hurdles named Vaegon and Saera.
The four of you sit at one of the restaurant tables, Aegon in attendance too, of course, an awkward silence overtaking you all.
“So what happened with Flo?” Saera asks, slurping the smoothie she convinced Aegon to buy her, in a souvenir cup of course, which put him out nearly $40.
You decide to enjoy your meal and let Aemond deal with this, considering all the shit he’s put you through over the course of the trip, enjoying yourself as you sip on your soda and watch him shift uncomfortably under Vaegon’s dead-eyed stare.
“Look, guys,” Aemond takes a deep breath before laying all his cards on the table, “I… I’m in love with your mom-”
“No shit, Sherlock!” the twins chorus in unison, earning a choked laugh from Aegon, who covers it up as a cough.
You give Aemond’s hand a gentle squeeze, urging him to continue, “Okay, maybe it was obvious to you guys, because you’re smarter than me,” the twins seem satisfied with this as Aemond continues, “But, before we start dating, we want to make sure that this is okay with the two of you.”
You speak up now, letting go of Aemond’s hand and taking one of Saera’s and one of Vaegon’s, looking them in the eyes, “Before anything, I’m your mom. I’m always gonna be your mom. The two of you are my pride and joy. I love you more than air. If it makes you uncomfortable that I date Aemond-”
“Mom, we literally wanted this to happen,” Saera gives you a look, “Jeez, we’re not monsters-”
“That’s debatable,” Aegon grumbles, “$40 for a fuckin’ smoothie-”
“Irregardless-”
“That’s not a word, Saera,” Vaegon cuts in, giving his sister a bratty look before turning to you, “But like Saera said… Aemond is more of a dad to us than Dad has ever been. And he loves you and you love him. We’re fine with it.”
“But,” Saera gets out of her chair and moves to stand beside Aemond, whispering something in his ear that you can’t quite hear, “You understand?”
Aemond bites back a grin and nods, “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”
“Good,” she chirps, skipping back to her seat and her quesadilla, “We have no problems then.”
Many years later, Aemond tells you that Saera, very menacingly, threatened to cut his balls off if he ever hurt you, a promise she fully intended to keep.
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That night, Aegon decides to do something nice for you and his brother and offers to take the kids to dinner and a late-night Marvel movie marathon, giving you and Aemond some time alone. Even though you’re excited to have some time alone with him, especially after that kiss the two of you shared earlier, you’re also nervous. This is still Aemond, your best friend. What if it’s awkward? What if this just doesn’t work? You don’t know if you could bear that.
You hear a knock on your hotel room door and go to answer it. You see Aemond leaning against the doorway, wearing a linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, slightly unbuttoned in the front to show off a bit of his chest and his silver chain, the one you bought him as a birthday present back in high school. The one he’s never forgotten to wear ever since you gave it to him, not for a single day.
Aemond wastes no time pulling you into another kiss, his lips melding against yours as though this is the way it was always meant to be. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, letting out a slight shriek of surprise when he lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bed. He drops you on it, immediately crawling over you, a mischievous little grin on his face as his lips leave a trail of kisses along your jaw down to your neck. Your hands move to unbutton his shirt, eager to see him in all his shirtless glory.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” he coos, almost mockingly, earning an annoyed glare which just makes him laugh, “You’re so cute when you try to be angry.”
You roll your eyes, tossing his shirt aside, running your hands over the plane of his chest, smiling to yourself as you admire your best friend turned lover. Aemond’s hands move to the waistband of your jean shorts, making quick work of them, tossing them aside, leaving you in only your tank top and panties. Aemond’s fingers immediately move inside your underwear, earning a soft gasp from you as he runs a finger along your entrance, teasing you.
“Aemond, no teasing,” you plead, “I fucking need you.”
He nods, moving his fingers away and immediately moving to sit on his haunches between your legs. Aemond slides your panties down, his good eye going wide with delight at the sight of your bare pussy, a low groan leaving his throat. He tosses your panties aside before grabbing you by the knees and tossing your legs over his shoulders. You don’t think you can even remember when the last time you’ve had a guy go down on you was, and so, you feel a bit hesitant and unsure. Aemond senses this and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses in a trail along your inner thigh before licking a stripe along your core, pressing his nose against your clit, nuzzling at his slightly. The feeling is nearly enough to make you combust, especially when you feel Aemond’s tongue begin moving against your pussy.
“Fuck, Aemond,” you whimper.
Aemond doesn’t answer, too busy moaning at the feeling of finally being able to taste you, the cleft of his nose brushing up against your pearl, his tongue moving in and out of you, hands holding your thighs apart so that you can’t push him away. He feels the way your legs are shaking and it makes him feel quite satisfied with himself. He knows your love life has been nothing if not lackluster, and he’s quite happy to give you what it is you need and deserve.
He has you cumming on his tongue in a matter of minutes, which surprises you, considering Robbie never really cared about how you felt when the deed was done. But Aemond? He’s obsessed with every sound you make, every little whimper, every mewl of his name, every moan. He thrives on it, really, and that’s why he switches his focus to suckling at your clit, teasing your cunt with his fingers. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug slightly, unsure if you want to push him away or pull him closer, your nails raking down his scalp in a way that has him moaning against you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper, chanting his name over and over like some sort of sacred prayer as he brings you hurtling over the edge once again, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from how intense all of this is, and how good he makes you feel.
Aemond moves his lips back up to meet yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s not unpleasant or strange, rather, it feels oddly intimate and sensual. Aemond undoes his pants, tossing them aside, making quick work of his boxers as well. You’ve always had a feeling your best friend was packing, but you never quite knew how correct you were until this very moment.
Your eyes go wide as you see just how big he is, and Aemond gives you a cocky little smirk, clearly pleased with your reaction, “You ready for Daddy to make you feel good, sweetheart?”
You never thought of yourself as having a Daddy kink before tonight, but holy fuck, does it sound good when it’s with Aemond. You nod, gazing up at him, biting your lip in anticipation.
“Do you want me to wear a condom?” Aemond asks, “I brought a few along-”
“No,” you shake your head vehemently, “I’m clean and so are you and… I wanna feel you.”
Aemond grins at this, giving his cock a quick stroke before lining himself up and thrusting into you. He lets out a low groan at the feeling of you, so warm and wet and tight around him as he bottoms out inside you. He fills you up so perfectly, in a way you didn’t think was possible, you think to yourself as you gaze up at him. Aemond stares down at you, moving one hand to rest on your cheek.
“So fucking perfect,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as he begins moving his hips.
Each thrust has you moaning his name, white hot pleasure running up and down your spine, driving you wild with want. When his lips finally leave yours, you snicker to yourself as he pushes up your tank top, letting out a low moan when he sees your bare chest.
“Such pretty fucking tits,” he mumbles, moving to mouth at you, his tongue trailing over one of your nipples, moaning as he feels it harden at his ministrations, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I’m so in love with you, baby.”
“Love you too,” you manage to moan out as he continues bucking his hips against yours, crying out his name only to remember he wants to go by something else, “Fuck, Daddy, feels so good…”
“Yeah, baby, I know, feels amazing for me too,” he says, switching to your other breast.
His hands move to hold yours, your fingers intertwined as he continues rolling his hips against yours, never once breaking eye contact with you. Everything in this moment is so intimate, so sensual and perfect. You think you could die right now, in his embrace, and be happy. He continues fucking you, pulling out and thrusting over and over.
“You looked so fucking gorgeous when you were pregnant, wanna have a baby with you, sweetheart. Wanna see you like that again. Will you let me? Will you let me fill your pretty little pussy up?” he growls into your ear, making you let out a contented mewl and nod in affirmation.
You feel yourself squeezing around him tighter and tighter so that it’s almost impossible for him to move. Aemond continues, pistoning his hips against yours, letting go of one of your hands to rub at your clit, bringing you to the edge yet again. He cums soon after you, spilling himself inside you, the two of you laying there for a moment, just gazing into each other’s eyes.
“Wow,” you murmur, moving your hand to his face, “I… I never knew it could feel like this.”
Aemond presses a kiss to your palm, whispering, “Yeah, me either.”
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Six Years Later…
“Kids! Breakfast is ready!”
The twins grumble as they make their way down the stairs of your and Aemond’s home, now aged fourteen and ready to get up to all sorts of teenage mischief.
“Fucking hell, Dad, you gotta be so happy in the morning?” Vaegon grumbles, burying his face in his arms as he sits at the dining table.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Aemond scolds, “You want me to tell Mom you’re using that kind of language?”
Vaegon immediately sits up and shakes his head fervently, immediately making quick work of the scrambled eggs and bacon Aemond sets in front of him. Saera, on the other hand, is staring at Aemond inquisitively.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Saera pauses before speaking, “Are you really planning to adopt us? Like, officially?”
Aemond turns to face her, giving the teenager a half smile, “Well, it was supposed to be a surprise…”
“Oh my gods, Dad!” Saera shrieks, bolting up and hugging Aemond tightly, “This means so much to us, you have no idea!”
“Why’s everyone so loud?”
Aemond and the twins turn to see the six-year old Aegon, trudging down the stairs, ready for his first day of school.
“Aw, there’s my little man,” Aemond grins, picking him up, “You ready for first grade, bud?”
“No,” Aegon grumbles, “I wanna stay home and watch cartoons.”
“Same,” Vaegon mutters under his breath, “Life is just suffering once you start school. Just pain.”
It’s at that moment that you head down the stairs, carrying your two-year-old daughter, Daenerys, since she currently believes that she is a princess and her feet should never touch the ground. You set her down on her chair and Aemond immediately dishes out everyone’s breakfast, turning over and giving you a gentle smile.
“Morning, my love,” he says, kissing you softly, “Sleep well?”
You nod, closing your eyes and returning his kiss, “Mhm. Thank you for taking care of breakfast, baby. I have that presentation-”
“Which you’re going to kill,” Aemond assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’re the CEO of King’s Landing’s most popular travel agency, baby. Own it.”
You laugh, “Okay, okay. You working from home today or do you need to go into the office?”
“Working from home, I’ll take care of the little princess. Speaking of which,” he gets down on one knee and presses a kiss to your protruding baby bump, “How’s the little prince doing?”
“The little prince or princess is fine,” you tease, “Now, I’ve gotta head to work. By the way, Cregan and Jace are coming over for dinner on Saturday. And Aegon and Floris too.”
“Weirdest couples, never saw them coming,” Aemond mutters under his breath, “At least we don’t have to see Sara and her sugar daddy, Borros.”
“Be nice,” you chide, though you giggle at his words.
Aemond pulls you in by the hand, his fingers tracing over the silver wedding ring that graces your finger, “I love you, Mrs. Targaryen.”
“And I love you, Mr. Targaryen,” you whisper back, kissing him.
“Get a room!” the twins cry out, “Fucking gross!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Daenerys begins chanting, earning a look of horror from Saera.
“No, Dany, no!”
“Yes, Dany, yes!” Aegon and Vaegon insist, amused at their little sister’s antics.
You look at Aemond and shake your head, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you yet again.
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567 notes · View notes
katstarry · 15 days
Text
city of stars
rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader
masterlist ☆
summary: eddie and you see each other at an awards ceremony, years after your break up.
warnings: angst? bittersweet? fluff? how the breakup happened can be up to you!
inspired by the movie la la land :) the upside down does not exist here! i also have no clue how this industry works, so sorry if something isn’t right or doesn’t make sense lol and i wrote this at 3am! sorry for any mistakes.
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the lights were blinding as he steps out of the expensive car. it’s surreal, the cameras begin to flash as he walks to the crimson carpet, his date by his side.
his partner was nominated for an awards that night, hence why he’s attending the ceremony. they’re both ushered to walk to the center of the carpet for photos. he positions his hand onto his dates waist and smirks to the cameras, instinctively posing.
the cameramen shout their names for their attention, choruses of “eddie! eddie! over here!” and “beautiful couple! amazing!” as they walk off the carpet, onto the interviews. they ask his date the standard questions, “what’re you wearing tonight?”, “i see you’ve brought yourself a date!”, “see you’ve both been going strong!”
he smiles as he lingers behind, answering when he needed to. having previously too busy with tours and recordings, he didn’t have a proper chance to attend a ceremony like this with his current girlfriend. it’s been nearly a year since they’ve both been official, and he thinks that she might be the one.
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as they both take their seats where the event will take place, he takes everything in.
looking around himself, he takes a deep breath, allowing his mind to wander.
he really made it.
thinking back, it’s been nearly 6 years since he left his hometown of hawkins, indiana to move to the chaos of california.
he wonders how everyone is, his old friends, what the small town is like now. what do they think of him now?
he wonders how you are. he’s heard your name before, in newspapers, in magazines. so he has an inkling that you’re doing amazing, doing everything you’ve ever dreamed of. could you even be here, tonight? he didn’t even know who else was nominated besides his girlfriend.
he looks around the dimly lit room, for a sign, a possibility, just out of curiosity. but he sees no familiar faces of his past.
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you’re running late, which has rarely ever happened. you just so happened to have a wardrobe malfunction, a strap of your dress having snapped. luckily, your team fixed it right up, but it pushed the schedule behind.
which brought you to your current dilemma, being stuck in traffic.
robin, who you’ve brought as your plus one, sits by your side.
“oh god, we’re gonna be so late! we’re gonna walk in there while the ceremony has already begun and everyone’s going to know that we’re late! hopefully we don’t walk in when someone’s giving their speech-“
“robin!” you interject her rambling, smiling in amusement, “it’s going to be okay! i’m nervous too, i absolutely hate being late. but we won’t be that late! we’ll most likely get there just as it’s starting.”
she lets out a dramatic sigh as she leans her head back onto the headrest, before sitting up straight, not wanting to mess up her appearance.
“okay, okay. you’re right. it’s gonna be okay.”
you both enjoy the ride as music plays and waste the time talking, then before you know it, you arrive.
getting out the car with robin right behind you, camera’s flash. a sign that you’re in fact, not that late. you smile and walk to the carpet, a routine you’re now used to, but never get tired of. it’s a reminder, that this is what you’ve worked so hard for.
pictures are taken, you pull robin with you for them, she was standing by wanting for you to have your ‘moment’.
both walking off the carpet and semi-speed walking to your seats, you both have big smiles on your faces. the room is dimly lit as you’re both led to your assigned seats for the night, usually you say hello to the other guests, but the night took a turn of events, and you had no time.
it was a big night, the biggest so far for your career as an actress. you were nominated, for one of the biggest awards that night, best leading actress. you were beyond ecstatic from the moment you got the news.
it was a moment of realization, a moment of pure joy.
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you met eddie in summer of 1985, after you graduated. you worked at star court mall in a small video store in order to save up money for college.
he had walked in, looking for a star wars movie. which led to a long conversation about star wars.
and the rest was history.
the friendship blossomed into shy glances and flirty comments until eventually, eddie had gotten the courage (after encouragement from his friend and uncle), to ask you out on a proper date. friends to now lovers, you were both inseparable. you helped him with graduating the following year, even attended his graduation. you were his biggest cheerleader.
he’d remember you as long as he lived. you, his first true love. his first example of an unconditional and healthy romantic love.
he’ll never forget your support, the way you encouraged him to keep going to his gigs at the hideout when he would feel like there would be no chance, you sitting at the bar, smiling up at him as he sang and played his guitar. it have him hope, he gained his confidence.
for you, the feeling was mutual. eddie, who would attend every one of your shows, no matter how big or small your role was.
the relationship had lasted four years, the year was now 1989.
1989, the year that eddie was offered his dream.
the hideout had began to gain more clients and corroded coffin began to gain more fans, steadily, they were making progress.
one night had changed everything. the band was approached by a man who claimed to be a part of a record label and had taken an interest in them and gave them his information for when they had made up that night, you were there right beside them.
as the man walked away and out the building, the band erupted into pure happiness, shouts of joy, hugs, faces of shock and in awe.
eddie turned to you, a big grin adorned his face as he embraced you and picked you up, wrapping your arms around his neck, he gave you both a twirl.
“oh my god! eddie! this is amazing!?” you smiled up at him as he placed you back on your feet, his arms still wrapped around your waist, yours now placed onto his shoudlers.
“i still can’t believe that was real, that was real right? that just happened?” he couldn’t contain his joy, “i mean i must be dreaming. there’s an angel looking at me right now.”
you blush, “oh shut up,” you lean up and give him a kiss, “you’re going to say yes, right?”
he looks at his friends over his shoulder, who heard you and look over in anticipation.
eddie looks back at you, “hell yeah we are!”
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from the moment the band agreed upon the proposal made to them, the changes came quick.
the label wanted demos for songs that they’ve played at the hideout, which led to them having to travel.
“california?”
“yeah, it’s a long way from here.”
you sit with your legs crossed and pulled up onto the couch and look at eddie, who’s sitting beside you. you’re at his trailer that he shares with his uncle wayne.
he looks at you with anticipation and bites his lips, “do you think i should go?”
“me? eddie, this is entirely up to you. but if you want my opinion, i think that you should definitely go. this is an opportunity of a lifetime! it’s your dream.” you smile at him as you grab his hands, softly squeezing.
he smiles at you, “i jus’ don’t want to be so far from you. i’ve never even been far from home, really. it’s all too fast.”
tears well up in his eyes, causing your own to do the same.
“hey.. i’m always gonna be rooting for you, baby. who knows where this’ll take us? it’s a big change, sure. but we’ll be okay. don’t let me or anyone else stop you from doing this.”
you’re both crying now, it feels different.
“i wish you could come with me.”
you place yourself onto his lap, embracing him as he wraps his arms around your waist. resting your forehead onto his own, tears streaming down both your faces.
“i wish i could too, but i’ll be too busy with college.”
you’d decided to finally attend college, having saved up enough money to afford it. you wanted to continue studying acting, get better at it.
“and when i’m done with that, we can be the iconic couple.”
you both let out teary laughs, “we’ll be okay.”
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the ceremony continued on, and finally, the moment comes.
the anticipation of waiting. the nominees for best leading actress being named and some jokes being made, it was exhilarating. beside you, robin takes a hold of your hand, both filled with nervousness.
the feeling was indescribable, the moment that your name was called.
it felt as if you were walking on air, the room was filled with applause, just as it had been throughout the night. but this time it was for you.
you won!
you stood and robin hugged you tightly, you didn’t know how to react as you hugged her back. walking to the stage was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, people shook your hand, congratulating you. some were people you looked up to, people you admired.
going up the steps, you greet the people on stage and accept your award. looking out into the crowd, you meet robin’s gaze, whose already smiling right back at you with tears in her eyes.
feeling your own fill with tears, you walk to the microphone to give your speech.
you open your mouth, and words momentarily fail you.
“wow.” you laugh, “this- this is something that i truly never would’ve thought i would receive. and to be here,” you look at the award in your hands and back up to the crowd, “with you all, is so crazy!”
“i want to thank everybody who has helped me make this dream come true.” you take a small moment to gain your composure, that moment, was when you saw him.
“wow.” you couldn’t believe he was there. the room laughs, thinking your reaction was from the award, not from seeing your past lover.
“i want to congratulate the other nominees, who i admire and am in awe of all that you do. and i want to thank my team, my friends, my family, my fans!”
you look over at eddie once again in the crowd, smiling with tears in both your eyes. it’s like deja vu.
“thank you, for everything.” the sincerity in your voice must be heard by everyone, since the room begins to applaud once again and you’re guided off the stage.
you meant the last part to be directed towards him.
and he knows, because he’ll always know you.
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huboi · 7 months
Text
punishment pt 2/?
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[capitano x ftm! reader]
link to part 1
╰┈➤ includes; degradation from capitano and the other harbingers, throat fucking, some praise, unprotected p n v (don’t do this!), capitanos huge cock, size kink, tummy bulge
╰┈➤ this content is rated 16+ and for male aligned only! fem aligned dni!
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“now, go ahead and help out one of the others puppy, best to make yourself useful” childe encouraged, before kissing the back of your neck affectionately.
you stumbled across over to whoever was the closest, which happened to be capitano. you noticed a huge tent in his tight fitting pants, gulping in realisation you’re truly and utterly going to be fucked dumb.
“do me a favour and suck my cock like the slut that you are,” capitano rumbled out from behind his mask. “yes sir,” you curtly whined out, before getting into your knees. capitano took the chance to pull down his zipper and boxers for you, his cock slapping against his abdomen.
suddenly, your mouth was filled with cock. gagging echoed throughout the room, the other harbingers groans joining in. you licked a vein on the side of his cock, causing him to let out a small groan of pleasure. the salty taste of pre invaded your mouth, whining in response. your fingers trailed their way towards your cunny, entering your already cum stuffed hole.
capitano proceeded to un mercifully thrust into your throat, not caring about the tears sliding down your cheeks from said action.
slurping, squelching, groaning and gagging sounds all echoed throughout the room. luckily for you guys said room is sound proof so none of the other fatui members will have a clue as to what’s going on.
without warning, capitanos large, gloved hands forced your mouth to deep throat his cock, with a sudden groan he came down your throat, refusing to let you go until you swallowed all of it down.
“such a good boy, you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum in your pretty cunt too,” capitano practically purred, his hands gripped onto your waist, bringing you onto his lap. your hands grabbed his cock and helped ease it into your cunt.
you whimpered out at the sudden feeling of being full of his fat, long, meaty cock. “oh archons, look at that” pantalone lowly moaned out. confused, you took a glance at to where he was looking. letting out a gasp as you saw the massive tummy bulge, which was very clearly evident from any angle.
“such a good cumdump for us aren’t you?” capitano cooed, his hands gripped onto your waist tightly, slamming in and out of your messy boy cunt. his head snuggled itself into the crook of your neck, you could feel him panting heavily behind his mask.
when capitanos fingers came down to rub messily on your clit, a sudden tingling sensation shuddered throughout your lower half, before you let out a mix between a whimper and a moan whilst climaxing, hard, on capitanos cock.
capitano used you like a fleshlight, refusing to slow down with his harsh, brain melting thrusts. sticking your tongue out and crossing your eyes, letting out seemingly continues moans. an explosion of warmth entered your boycunt, you could feel it spurting right up against your cervix.
“thank you so much for making me cum, capitano sir!” you managed to pant out, legs wobbling on his lap, his cock still resting in your cunt.
“we’re not finished with you yet, puppy. we’ve still got a long way to go. by the end of the night, you’ll be stuffed so full that your stomach will be bulging with the mixture of all our cum,” tartaglia explained. you clenched down tightly on his cock hearing that “ooooh, he likes the sound of that, tartaglia, he just clamped down harder on my cock. you like being our cumdump don’t you?,” capitano asked, slightly grinding more into your cunt.
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content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER
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ladyelissarose · 8 months
Text
—————————— ☠️
“Sergeant?”
You had just sunk down to the ground, against the wall as your tried to breathe. The usual bright eyes you always wore, searching for his dark ones, are now locked on the ground as you sat across your superior, Lieutenant Simon Riley... other known as the ‘Ghost’. His callsign or sorta nickname didn’t scare you, he wasn’t the cold man every one knew him to be, instead he had grown easy around you, making his personal space your little safe haven. He was still quiet and sometimes distant, but he still was a safe place.
But right now you felt as if everything around you was too close, you couldn’t catch your breath and we’re growing anxious because of it. Panic and desperation were clawing out of you at this point, but they had no chance in escaping.
Loud ringing sounds could be heard in your ears, causing your head to pound, but above that noise in your head you heard the calm voice, call out to you in the distance,
“You alright kid?”
Your eyes still didn’t meet his, but you nonetheless replied with a small voice, unlike the loud but firm one you often used,
“I don’t k-know...”
It cracked in the end, showing Simon you were at the verge of breaking, but he could also tell you were trying to keep it together- be strong.
But it didn’t look like it was working, your breathing’s pace was picking up and there was a slight shake to you too, you were trembling.
This reaction from you was new to Simon, but he was quick to detect what it was nonetheless. Personally he’s met this kind of feeling before- he wasn’t new to it at all.
But It would be the first time he’s ever attempted to do something so deep and connecting, but he knew it would help you.
He didn’t have to force the words out of you to know what was happening or how to address it, he knew what had happened a few minutes ago was the closest thing ever to taking your life, and what didn’t help was when you ran back in the falling building anyways, barely making it out with the two kids before it fully collapsed.
Fear didn’t come close to how you were feeling, but for the past seconds to minutes you haven’t been able to feel anything, or let your mind register the trauma your body went through. Making sure everything was ok and in order, meaning you unfortunately didn’t come first when you had so many responsibilities ahead of you.
But Simon’s large hand engulfed your face, and the other got both of your hands and stopped the fidgeting, tightening the hold as he pulled you closer, bringing your head against his chest. Breaking the panic you were developing.
Slowly your eyes met his as you looked up at him, and you couldn’t help the heavy stone weighing down in your throat, blocking out the words that wanted to come out, and tell him you needed help.
Tears began to well in your eyes as Simon’s softened, the realization that you were alive and well took a toll on you, as you had barely escaped the jaws of death that day, and finally you were able to calm down and take it all in.
You looked behind you to see the building in flames and totally wrecked, Simon locked eyes with what you were beholding, and he felt how scared you were. Panic wanted to settle in you more, as you recalled the thoughts that ran through your head as you dodged the falling ceiling, hoping that it wouldn’t fall on you or the kids you were holding.
‘Don’t die don’t die- OH SHIT- that was close!! Oh! Hold the kids tighter they’ll fall and the younger one can’t walk- they’re depending on you, come on make it- please don’t fall on me-‘
Thoughts spiraling like a hurricane, until a gentle tug was felt on your hands. And a deep voice with a softness to it called out,
“C’mere sweetheart.”
His free hand beckoned you towards him, and when you got close enough it wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, and took your place against the wall. Instinctively you got comfortable and laid your palm over his chest, where his heart was. He had discarded his vest so you could feel closer, and hoodie he wore was was thin enough where you could still make out his heartbeat and even feel it’s steady thuds.
Your teary face was mere inches from his masked up one, and ever so gently Simon used the pad of his thumb to wipe them all away, while his hand held your cheek.
You were like a little angel in the arms of a monster, seeking comfort in his darkness as your light had dimmed. His eyes were dark shades of brown, but they held a honey ring around it’s making them unique and him- Simon Riley.
The arm that was around your waist now slid to your bottom, holding you up closer so you wouldn’t slide off his lap. Your face was then guided by his hand to lay your head on his shoulder, your face resting against his neck, inhaling his scent which was musky yet warm and woody.. a hint of citrus could be detected too.
Simon placed his head on yours, and with the softest voice he could possibly muster with his deep Manchester accent, he cooed,
“It’s alright sweet girl.. I’m righ’ here.”
You nodded against him as you tried to breathe slowly, sniffles coming out here and there, although you tried matching your erratic breathing to his calm one, hoping to synchronize it.
A little rumble could be felt coming from his chest, a low chuckle came out of Ghost’s mask, not in a mocking way, but to ease the heavy tension.
“That gave you quite the scare eh? I’s alright... Johnny would’ve shit his pants for sure, not you though.. you’re a brave one huh sweetheart?”
A small giggle released your once trembling lips at what Ghost said about Soap, and it comforted him to know you’re cheering up a bit. You snuggled into him closer, finding comfort in his embrace as he made you feel easy and alive- even with the smallest gestures.
His hands never left as he cradled you, rubbing your back, squeezing your side, caressing your head or holding your fidgeting fingers... he never stopped letting you know he hadn’t let you go.
His soft breaths being heard, the calm beating of his heart as he made sure your ear was over it, the little hums he’d do when he felt it was too quiet, kissing your head through his mask here and there... it was his way of telling you, you were just as alive as he was.
Simon’s hold on you never faltered, as he poured his unsaid affection for you in heart-full and true actions. From now on he’d keep you an arm’s length away- if not in his arms better yet.
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ohtobeleah · 6 months
Text
Sixth Sense // Mickey Garcia
Summary: A freak accident occurs at the Hard Deck and Fanboy is faced with the challenge of being left to care for you, his not so official girlfriend.
Warnings: Mickey Garcia x F!reader. Hurt/Comfort. Gas explosion resulting in hearing and vision loss.
Word Count: 1.7k
Author Note: Day Three of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Sensory Deprivation. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.
Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Holy shit, what the hell was that?” It all happened so fast, so fast in fact that the explosion that ricocheted through the Hard Deck didn’t register a sound until a few seconds after the fact. 
Patrons laid strewn across the bar, ducking for cover under tables and bars. Glass from the windows had sliced unsuspecting patrons as it blew apart from the force of the blast. Food and beverages littered the floor, thrown in the panic of the moment as all inside ducked. 
“Everybody okay?” Jake Seresin stayed shielding Natasha Trace with his entire body. “Is anyone hurt?” His arms pinned her down against the hardwood floor at either side of her head. Seconds ago—they’d been arguing over a long standing disagreement over who could tie more Cherry stems with just their tongue in three minutes. Now, Phoenix had never been this close to a man she could hardly stand. 
“Yeah—we’re good!” Rooster replied as he looked around, he’d been knocked on his ass by the bast. Coyote was right beside him, as was Payback. The three of them had been indulging in a game of darts to see who could knock Hangman down a peg or two on the leaderboard. “Bob? Fanboy? You guys okay?” 
“I think we’re alright?” Bob groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground—peanuts were crushed all over the ground around him. Mickey sat back on his knees scanning the Hard Deck. He couldn’t see you. There was a small cut on the side of Mickey's face but other than an artificial flesh wound, he was relatively unscathed from the unsuspecting blast that had pummeled through the Hard Deck. 
“Anyone seen Y/n?” Fanboys eyes continued to scour the entire expanse of the Hard Deck as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off. “Yo, guys—anyone see Miss Barkeep?” 
“She was heading out back to help the gas guy change out the—“ Bob didn’t even need to finish his sentence before he’d connected the dots. “Oh god, Y/n.”
A gas explosion. 
Mickey took a few seconds to register where his best friend's mind had gone, but then he realised. In those few seconds where Fanboy couldn’t breathe he knew he couldn’t live without you before he had a chance to really have you. 
Sure, the two of you were friendly. Probably more than most friends would be. Sure, you sometimes spent the night in Mickey's bed after he’d stay back and help you shut the Hard Deck up. Sure, he spent lazy Sunday mornings with you in the kitchen making breakfast and drinking coffee more often than not. And sure, the two of you enjoyed each other’s company, blatantly flirted beyond belief and made sure to always text each other when you got home, finished work, and stole secret kisses here and there when it was just the two of you. But. You weren’t official. 
And that may have been Mickey Garcia's biggest mistake. 
“Y/n!?” There you were. “Oh my god!” Lying unconscious on the ground a few meters away from where the gas bottles were kept behind the Hard Deck. Penny kept a tight ship—they were locked behind a wire cage that made sure patrons couldn’t fuck around. Something must have gone wrong during the change over, because the gas man wasn’t too far away from you. 
“Hey—hey!?” Mickey was by your side in an instant, the second his eyes caught your body lying there—thrown away and discarded like you weren’t the most important person to him, he was by your side. “Amor? Can you hear me?” 
Rooster had already called for paramedics to attend the scene while Hangman and Phoenix had begun to do whatever they could with their advanced first aid training—using the Hard Decks first aid kit to fix small cuts and abrasions on patrons from lying shards of glass. 
“Y/n?” You had a pulse, Mickey knew that much. But you weren’t waking up. “Please—come on Amor, you gotta wake up for me.” 
“This guys dead—“ Payback calls out. Mickey's mind fills with worst case scenarios the longer you were down for. “He’s got no pulse and the back of his head’s cracked.” He’s an ex paramedic, he knows. “I'm gonna start chest compressions, see if I can bring him back, how’s the kid?” 
You weren’t just shy of Fanboys age, he was the youngest in the group after all. Top of his class, intellectually gifted enough to graduate highschool three years earlier than most ever would. But to Paybacks forty one? You were still a child, in his mind anyway. 
“She’s breathing.” Is all he says before your stirrings. “Hold on! I think she’s waking up!” There’s nothing but a ringing in your ear. A sharp high pitched buzzing that’s incessant and ear piercing. You groan at the sound as you try to blink away the clouded vision that’s plaguing your eyes. But nothing can get rid of the thick fog like blur. “Y/n—it’s me, you’re okay, I’ve got you—“  But you can’t make out who it is. You can’t hear anything but that annoying ringing that won’t go away. Your head hurts, holy shit what the hell happened? 
“I—“ You stutter out. “I can’t see.” It sends Mickey's heart racing inside his chest, even more so than it already was. “I—I can’t see—“ You can't even hear yourself talking so you just assume you’re talking far too quiet. But in reality you're screaming, screaming so loud you’re straining your neck. “I CAN'T HEAR!” 
“Hey—I’ve got you.” Mickey doesn’t know what else to do besides try and calm you while medics make their way around the Hard Deck. “I love you, yeah?” Payback hears Mickey say it before you ever do and his heart breaks. You don’t deserve this. Neither does Fanboy. “You’re gonna be alright Amor, I’m right here.” 
But all you do is cry. You can’t hear a single thing being spoken or see a single thing in front of you. All there is before you are shadows of light and darkness. Mickey's hands squeeze yours and you feel it. His signet ring—the one his Abuela brought him many moons ago. But you know in the darkness and uncertainty that it’s Mickey at your side. 
“If she’s lost senses, Mick, it's gonna be a head trauma of some sort.” Payback keeps going with his chest compressions. “Is there any sign of blood?” You squeeze Mickey's hand a little harder as he goes to pull away to check. You squeeze so hard that he can’t let go, you’re far too afraid of being left alone in the dark. “Fanboy?”
“I—I dunno, probably! She probably hit her head on the ground!” Mickey manages to wiggle free just one of his hands so he can push your hair out of your face. “Shhh—I’m right here.” He tries to soothe you once again, but your cries are just too heartbreaking. “Amor, I am right here with you—I’ve got you.” 
“Please don’t let me die here alone.” Was all you mumbled out. You didn’t know what Mickey was saying or if he was saying anything at all. The ringing was all too deafening. But when you begged him to stay, to not leave your side. Mickey's heart shattered into a million different pieces. “Please don’t leave me.” 
“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” He traced your face with his fingers, just letting you know he was there with you. Your grip on his hand began to falter as you slipped into unconsciousness again, just trying to find some shelter from the ringing. “I’m right here with you.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Without the surgery your daughter might regain her vision but it’s only a slim chance Mrs Y/l/n—“ Doctor Perry spoke to the woman on the other end of your phone. Mickey had called her on your behalf from the other side of the country, she was already packing her things for the flight she’d booked to be by your side. “I’d say it’s barely twenty percent.” 
“What about with the surgery?” Mickey asked as his eyes looked over you. You looked too peaceful to be in this situation. You knew he was there just by his touch alone. He made sure you knew it was him by his ring as he ran his thumb across your palm. “What’s the odds of her getting her vision back with the surgery?” 
“Almost one hundred percent—if the surgery were to go well. If it doesn’t then she runs the risk of being permanently incapacitated for the rest of her life.” Doctor Perry was a little too blunt for Mickey's liking, but he appreciated the direct route. “She’ll regain her hearing, hopefully, her ear drums were significantly damaged in the blast but they should recover.” 
“Do the surgery.” Your mother barked on the other side of the phone. “My daughter can’t be deaf and blind—what type of future would she have then? What kind of quality of life would she have?” Mickey couldn’t take his eyes off you as you slept. It was better this way, to keep you sedated. That way you couldn’t panic. But he thought about it while the doctor droned on to your mother about the surgery, that no matter the outcome you’d have a life with him. He’d take care of you—learn how to adapt, help you with anything you ever needed. Do anything you ever needed him to do. 
A freak accident that took away two of your six senses shouldn’t be the reason your life ends. You were still alive and oh how Mickey Garcia was grateful to whatever God was on duty that day. 
“Mrs Y/ln?” Mickey interrupted as he turned the phone back his way. Your mother silenced herself mid sentence to listen to what Mickey had to say. “I know we haven’t formally met before but I just want you to know that I’ve been head over heels in love with your daughter since she served me for the first time.” He explained all the while his eyes never left your perfect face. A face he really wouldn’t mind waking up to every day. “And I know there’s a hell of a lot of uncertainty about what may come, but I just want you to know that her quality of life doesn’t diminish if her sight can’t be restored or her hearing doesn’t improve.” Mickey could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he squeezed your hand, and as much as he wished none of this ever happened, he knew he couldn’t leave you know. Not ever. 
“I’ve got her ma’am—“ 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
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letstripdotcom · 2 months
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shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader pt2
a/n: i wasn’t gonna do a part 2 but i got a few requests for it so enjoy (or else🥰🔪) very short and not proofread
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summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.
warnings: same old same old smut 🙂
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the next morning the sun beamed down on your face waking you up. shit. the last thing you wanted to happen was nick or matt seeing chris cuddled up shirtless next to you. luckily, you were always up before the three of them, so you had time to sneak chris back to his room.
“chris. chris!” you whisper shouted turing to wake him up. he let go and rolled off you you. “huh” he muttered half awake. “you gotta go before matt and nick wake up.” you told him. he gave you one last hug and a sloppy kiss on your neck before walking across the hall to his room.
you lied down on your bed and sighed. what would you tell nick and matt? would you tell nick and matt? what does this mean to chris? does he still hate me? my mind was flooded with thoughts. suddenly my phone buzzed breaking me out of my thoughts.
chris
u hungry?
me
yeah kinda
chris
come down in about 30 minutes:)
me
okay. i’ll shower then i’ll be down.
read: 9:23am
you tossed your phone on the bed beside you. what. the. fuck. you picked out your clothes for the day and you took a shower. you savored every last bit of the 30 minutes of peace you had because who knows how today will go.
after your shower, you head downstairs. you can small whatever chris is cooking. “i made pancakes, your favorite.” you smiled at him thankfully and took the plate from him. the silence was loud once you begun eating. “so” you spoke up. “what are we gonna tell your brothers?”
“i think telling them we talked it out would be fine. we tell them we had a deep conversation last night and we put the past behind us and were ready to be friends now. but we don’t tell them” he paused “we don’t tell them we had sex” i finished his sentence quietly. “exactly” he smiled
i finished my pancakes and went over to the living room couch. chris did the dishes and followed behind me. “you know y/n, i’ve known you since 6th grade isn’t that crazy” “yeah?” i say in a confused tone trying to figure out where he’s going with this. “i’ve known you since 6th grade and we’re adults now” he continues “and i haven’t once told you how i’ve truest felt. i’ve told you how much i hate you many times, but have i ever told you how awful every one of our arguments made me feel?”
i look at him with furrowed eyebrows as i try to think of a response. “really?” was all i could think to say. “every time we would argue like we did the night of that party, i would feel like such a dick. especially when i would catch a glimpse of you and i could tell you were crying.” he says. “then why did you do it?” i ask him.
“i’m not good at expressing emotions, and i ruined it all for myself. if i had ye chance, i would go back to 6th grade and make it all right.” he stared at you “wow” was all you could say before you found yourself kissing chris. your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your lips along his.
his tongue soon makes its way into your mouth exploring every part. you put your hands in his hair and tug slightly which makes him groan. he grabs your waist and sets you on his lap. you kiss very deeply, exploring every part of eachother.
“so i’m guessing y’all made up?” a voice spoke from behind us. jumped off of chris’s lap looking at nick. “surprise!” i awkwardly smiled at him. “thank god” he sighed. “so ur not mad?” i asked “god no. i’d rather you guys practically eat each others faces than hear yall argue for the next week. just not in front of me please.” me chris and nick all laughed
-
later that night went out to dinner, and chris was teasing me the whole time. no matter where we were he was always touching me somehow. he would run my thighs or hug my waist or whisper something in my ear. i know he was trying to get my worked up and it was working. if i could i would have let him fuck me on the dinner table right in the middle of the restaurant.
the so we got back to the house, i practically dragged him up to my room and slammed the door. “you’re such a tease” is all i said before kissing him hungrily. he grabbed my waist and guided me to the bed, laying me on my back. instead of crawling on top of me like i expected, he lowered himself between my legs.
he lifted up my dress, running his cold hands up my body as he exposed my underwear. he then started to leave wet sloppy kisses up my thighs. “chris please” i beg as he gets closer to where i need him most.
he then tauntingly pulls down my panties and sets them to the side. i moan just at how close he is me me. he then licks a stripe up my folds completely flattening his tongue. my hands immediately fly to his hair. “oh my god chris” i whine.
my legs tighten around his head as he eats me like a starved animal. chris was becoming so turned on by my moans and praises that he had to remove a hand from my waist to try to get himself off. he stroked hard and fast as he continued eating me. he moaned into me, sending tingles all through my body causing my back to arch off the bed.
“chris i’m about to cum i’m about to come” i whined. chris groaned, this mouth still not separating from my pussy. “chris please keep doing that” i begged. he groaned again. “oh fuck” i screamed as i came. chris cleaned up every last one of my juices before he lifted his head from between my shaking legs
chris stood up to get a towel, and grab me a change of clothes when i noticed the wet patch on his crotch. “chris if you needed help all you had to do was ask” i told him. “it’s fine, i just couldn’t help it you sounded so beautiful.” he smiled. i can tell he was clearly still hard. “how bout you lay down while i help you” i smirked crawling over him.
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a/n- this is the ending you get bc i’m dying from a migraine right now🥰
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