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thecapricunt1616 · 1 month

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Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 2

♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd go horseback riding!!! Carmy's therapy friends push him to go for what he wants, his 'light at the end of the tunnel'

♡ W/C: 6,534

♡ Posted Date: 04/07/2024

♡ A/N: Hayoooo!!! I am too inspired... this has become a multi-chap fic hahaha I am havin' so much fun here!! Thank you @gingergofastboatsmojito for inspiring me to keep going!!! ILY! As per usual please know - this fic was inspired by THIS FIC here - Tucson by the GLORIOUS GINGER!!!! Go read that before you even THINK about reading this fic ok?! I love how I hate storer for the same reasons but im a sucker for writing a slowburn - I find myself screaming at MYSELF internally "make them kiss already!!!!" but they will KISSSS SHORTLY SO SHORTLY MY DEARSSSS !!! It will be a JUICY TAYLOR SWIFT DAYLIGHT ASS KISS OK!!!! THEY WILL ONLY SEE EACHOTHER FROM THEN ON!!!! Its gonna be a 'and I can still see it all in my mind all of you all of me intertwined I USED TO THINK LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDENNNNNNN. We need Carmy to realize a few more things but then - he will be hozier level devoted to this woman even more then he already is, I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Not really any? Like? LOL - Swearing?! Smoking cigarettes?! They just went horseback riding & carmy went to therapy- oh Ig talks of carmy getting hard LMAO but thats as crazy as we get this chapter. ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Stardust nudges his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, and he turns to look at her. His heart jumped into his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was there, she was really there.

“Uh-” he blinked a few times, to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. “Syd? Hey..uh-” he felt his entire body buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his features. She looked… gorgeous. Carmen wasn’t sure there actually was a word in any human language ever to exist that could describe just how wonderful she looked.

Her hair was in its natural state, she was wearing an adorable corduroy jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers. “You came to a farm…in those?” he motions to her shoes.

She laughs a bit “Wow- it’s great to see you too, Carm. Didn’t realize you were…actually like living on a farm” she approached him carefully.

“Shit- yes- fuck- It’s its so good to see you, Syd, C’mere” he pulls her into a tight, long hug. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume nearly made him melt.

“You’re like…tan- and…muscley now” She laughs a bit, squeezing his arm lightly.

“Uh..” he pulled away, cheeks bright red. “Yeah uh.. It's like- fuckin hard t’ride a horse. And the um…” he rubbed his neck nervously “The uh cows.. They eat hay? Most the time, and so we need to move the bales during the morning for em, they’re like…. 75? 80 pounds? So moving like 10 back and forth every day helps. And I dont really.. Go inside? Here? Its like… uh.. Thats the therapy mostly, the animals- at least f’me” he said sheepishly.

She nodded, looking around the stable. “That one behind you is yours? Shes been side-eying me creepily since I started talking” she pointed to Stardust.

“Oh! Fuck sorry yea, well- no…not- not mine- I got ‘er t’trust me. But uh, yeah this is Stardust. She’s a super sweet girl” He explained. Stardust leaned in, sniffing Syds hair carefully.

“Cute- All you’re missing is a hat” She teased.

He chuckled a bit, “Ok, c’mon - why are you here, Syd” He said with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged, looking at the ground and kicking a rock out of the way with her shoe. “Cause…I was worried- I dunno…” She definitely wasn't going to get bold and tell him that she’d missed him, terribly.

“Ok…well now that y’here, and y’see i’m okay…wanna have some fun?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Syd looked back up at him, as if he had 3 heads. “Okay- Where is Carmen Berzatto- Not his… Weird alien clone- Camren Brazota” she said, laughing a bit “what do you mean fun?” She asked, and Carmy laughed, real, and genuine.

“Well- If I didn’t change my view a little I’d never leave. So, yes, Syd, ‘a little fun never hurt noone’ - per my therapist. Shes fuckin annoying. I much prefer the horses.” He pet Star’s mane and she leaned into his touch.

“Holy shit” Syd laughed a bit. “Wow- alright. I feel like you’re a whole new man already, what kind of fun?” she mused.

“Ever ridden a horse?” he walked over to the saddle rack, pulling off a double seated one and hanging it over the back of the stall door.

“No- Actually, Don’t I need um…like - stuff for it?” she asked.

“Oh don’t think I wont give you the full experience” he opened the riding closet, “Whats your shoe size?” he asked, crouching down and looking through the pairs of extras.

“8? Er- 9 probably 9” she said. He dug through them until he found a matching pair.

“These should do, y’stuff is cool here we can just leave it in her stall” he told her, holding out his arm for her to hold while she switched her shoes.

“You seem like…” she said as she slipped off her sneaker and put on the boot. “I dunno…chill- well- i wont go that far- but chill-er then before.” Carm snorted a laugh, holding on to her arm to steady her.

“Thanks? I guess..that’s good right?” He asked.

“Yeah! Yeah of course…I mean, it’s nice. To see you not so…anxious.” She said, slipping the other boot on.

“Yeah I um…” he cleared his throat, opening the stall door. “I uh..I’m takin meds- Now? Uh..all this shit. Y’know they have me like tranquilized more then these guys” he said and she laughs, Carmen smiled proudly at the fact, relishing in the wonderful sound.

“But yeah like Like 3 er..er 4. they say I had all this uh..mental shit. Goin’ on w’me and that’s why I was all…wound up I guess” he explained, calling Star out and getting her harness situated.

Syd caught herself staring at his arms as he worked, how the toned muscle moved beneath the fabric of the shirt.

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket like she was.

“Used to it now, well- I mean the moving around. It gets hot this shit is heavy. Wanna try to hold the saddle?” He asked, unhooking the saddle from the stall door where he’d left it momentarily.

“It can’t be that bad” she countered.

“I think this thing weighs probably as much as you do.” He said “hold out your arms” he smiled a bit.

She lifted her arms out in front of her and he plops the saddle down, she had to plant one of her feet forward so she didn’t fall face first due to the sudden weight and he laughed, catching the saddle quickly and baring most the weight.

“Told you” he teased.

She rolled her eyes “yeah whatever. Saddle up the horse, cowboy” she dropped the saddle back in his arms. He hurled the saddle over Stars back with a grunt.

“Fuckin hell” he huffed, realizing since the saddle was nearly double the weight as his usual, and being on the shorter end- he couldn’t just get it on her when she was standing straight. “Bow” he told the horse and she just stared at Sydney.

“Don’t embarrass me, Star. Bow” he told her and she looked the other way.

“So uhhh…this one’s trained, huh?” Sydney teased.

Carmen looked back at her “mmhmm maybe she doesn’t like strangers” he said, walking over to the other side.

“Since she’s bein difficult y’gonna have T’help. C’mere” he waved her over and she followed. “So when I push it up, just grab the saddle pad and make sure it doesn’t move, yea?” He asked.

“The fuck is a saddle pad, dude- I know my way around a kitchen not a fuckin horse stable.” She looked at the many different layers the horse was already wearing.

“Alright. So this,” he lifted the cloth, “is her blanket. Keeps her core warm. And beneath it” he pats the pad “this is her saddle pad, it makes it more comfortable. So our bones aren’t like..diggin in her back and shit. Also shock, when she jumps the foam of it helps our weight disperse. The saddle is so big and heavy I can’t keep the pad still at the same time, so just hold it f’me,�� he took her hand, guiding it to where he wanted her to hold.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, his hands were so large and calloused on top of her own. She nodded wordlessly, keeping her eyes trained on where she was meant to be holding and focusing on keeping it steady as he went back around and carefully lifted up the heavy saddle with a grunt, laying it over the horses back.

“Jesus- how much can this thing carry” Syd asked.

“Well she is a mare, she weighs about…mmm- 1900? She can comfortably hold about 400 pounds for a decent distance but she can’t do that for hours and hours at a time. We together can’t be more then 300, and her gear is less then 100 pounds. Were just goin f’r a quick ride, I gotta get to therapy at 3” he explained as he buckled on her saddle.

“Ah. So you’ve been memorizing horse information instead of creating recipes? I figured when I got here you’d have gone nuts by now without being in a kitchen so long” she gently touched the horses mane as she spoke.

“Maybe. Well…I am kinda goin crazy? But I can’t…let it out?” He chuckled a bit “does that make sense? Nights are a little hard before my sleep meds kick in but that just says I haven’t done enough that day” he got up. “So y’gettin up first since I’m sittin in back” he explained.

“Oh…uh- ok how do I?” She asked looking up at the at least 7 foot tall animal.

“Y’not gonna be able to do it alone. C’mere” he told her. She comes over and looks at him.

“How the fuck do you do this?” She looked up at the saddle that was at the top of her head before looking back at him.

“So-“ he snorts a laugh at her wide confused expression. “She’s not gonna like you trying to roll up on her back, and I don’t want you t’get thrown off, she can be moody with new people. I almost broke my shoulder my first time trying to ride her” he said and she crossed her arms slightly.

“So how. How do I get up there?” She asked. He pulled out a step stool, setting it next to the horse and getting up on the third step.

“I’m giving you a lift. Arms up” he said with a playful smirk.

“No- no way- Carmen that’s too high. You’ll drop me!!” She took a step back, feeling slightly nervous.

“I won’t because I’ll bribe her Syd. C’mere” he pulled a pack of peep marshmallows out of his pocket and the horse nearly starts dancing.

“Carm- what the fuck is happening?” She asked and Carmy chuckled.

“Bow. Cmon Syd wants t’ride. Bow and you’ll get y’treat star.” He told the horse.

It obediently bowed down and before Syd could process what was happening, Carm was scooping her up beneath her arms Syd squealed in surprise. “Oh my GOD WHY ARE YOU PICKING ME UP!” She shrieked, wiggling in his arms.

“open y’legs! Cmon! she’s gonna get up!!!” Carmen laughed holding her up higher. Syd finally obeyed and he gently plopped her on the first saddle. “Good girl” he told the horse, feeding her the marshmallow and putting the packet in his pocket again before swiftly getting on behind Syd.

“Alright. Hard part done.” He reached around her waist, and she lifted her arms slightly.

“What- can you tell me what’s going on? I’m a horse virgin!” She said, and they both went quiet for a moment, before cracking up laughing. Syd leaned to her left slightly as she tried catching her breath, grabbing the rein for stability and tugging.

Star took off sprinting, Syd screamed in surprise, her body going tight with fear. Carmen quickly wrapped his arms around Syds waist protectively, tugging on the reigns “WOOOOAH!” He called to Star and she quickly came to a stop.

“Stand.” He told the horse firmly.

“What the fuck Carm I thought she was trained!” Syd exclaimed, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I gotchu, you think I’d let her kick you off?” He tightened his arms around her. Carmen swore his heart was thumping so hard that she felt it on her shoulder blade.

“Also when she moves it’s hard to keep still.” She said nervously.

“Don’t worry, I gotchu, Syd. Lean into me, if our weight is centered then it’ll be easier for all 3 of us” he gently pushed at her stomach.

She leaned back into his broad chest, “see” he said softly. He was lucky the angle didn’t allow for her to see him, because his face was bright red, And having her body pressed against his…was making him flush somewhere else too.

He clicked his tongue and Stardust started walking again, at an easy comfortable trot. “This…is ok.” She said, much more comfortable now.

“I’m gonna take you t’one of my favorite spots.” He said, pulling on the reins to the left lightly so she would follow the left trail.

“Wow, already sharing secret spots huh? I think this therapist may just be Doctor of the year I don’t even think I’ve seen your favorite Chicago spots” she teased.

Carm laughed a bit, he felt so much lighter with Syd around. And life had been lighter ever since he got here.

“How is…uh- how is it back home?” He cleared his throat lightly. It was something that had being weighing on him. Yes, he was here, he was doing the thing. He was making Sugar happy. He was making Syd happy…but he would go back, at some point.

And his biggest fear was things will just go right back. He won’t have this outlet, he won’t have sunset rides with Stardust to ease his mind. He won’t have the cows happily running up to him and greeting him when he was the first one to bring out a bale of hay. He felt like if he was here, he may have the confidence to tell Syd how he feels. But back home? It was another life.

“Fine..things are..y’know. The usual shit. But nothing bad, no one’s getting locked in any freezers if that’s what you mean” she said playfully.

Carm rolled his eyes with a light smile. “Mmhmm. So the restaurant is-“

“Is fine.” She said. “I’d have told you. You know that.” She said and he nodded a bit.

“I know she scared you back there…but it’s pretty fun to go fast. You wanna try?” He asked.

She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her hands tightening around his arms that were holding the reins around her waist. “Uhh…maybe? Are you sure we won’t fall off?” She questioned.

“I’m sure. Here you can be the one to control it. Start light ok? With your legs.” He gently ran his hands down her thighs to right below her knees “here” he said softly, squeezing the flesh gently so she wouldn’t have to lean and look. “With that part of your legs, give her a little squeeze. But really light, or we’ll take out of here like a bat out of hell” he held around her waist again, securely holding the reins.

“Mmhmm” she said, she was beginning to feel hot- and not because she’d done any hard work in regards to getting the horse ready.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, you’re the boss” he said the last part softly in her ear. If it wasn’t for her jacket, he would see the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. She nodded quickly, staring straight ahead and trying to maintain her composure.

“So I just?” She squeezed gently and the horse picks up her speed slightly. “Oh…ok” she said.

“Told y’she was trained” Carmy teased and she rolls her eyes.

“Mmm you’ve done a very good job, bribing this horse with peeps. The staff know you do this?” She asked. Carmy snorted a laugh

“No. But she’s healthy. Made sure. She only gets one or 2 if she doesn’t listen.” He admitted.

She shook her head with a smile. “And how’d you find this out, Carm?” She leaned into him once more.

“I…” he laughed a bit, his chest vibrating with the movement and it made her heart warm.

“I uh…spent a few days in the library here. Reading up. After she threw me off. It’s all about trust with em. So I never lied to ‘er and I’ve never done something she didn’t expect because I always try to warn her.” He said, pulling her reigns a bit tighter.

“This is like a joyride Syd cmon, I said fast not an evening stroll.” He teased.

“Fine. Mister horse master- show me what Miss Stardust can do.” She said.

With 2 kisses and a quick tap of his heel, they were off like a rocket. He held Syd steady, being sure she wouldn’t have to do most the work of holding herself center as he gripped each reign with the opposite hand, holding them taught so Star knew to keep going.

Syd laughed, the wind flicking her dark curls all around. He wished she could see her amused expression. “Holy shit this is the best!” She shouted over the loud thuds of Stars hoofbeats.

“I know right! Can you believe she can go faster?” He said, holding his knees taut around her hips to keep her from sliding.

“Okay we are not! This is fine!” She said and sat up a bit “are we going into the-” She asks as Star begins to barrel through a creek, the freezing water spraying up and around them getting them slightly wet, the freezing water splashing from their calves up to their cheeks.. “CARMY!” She screams through laughter.

He could barely catch his breath as he laughed so hard his stomach and ribs ached. “I’m sorry!! Syd! Oh god-“ he chuckled “woah girl- woah” he called to the course and she slowed down once again to a stop.

“Fuck-“ Carmen chuckled “you okay?” He asked, picking a wet leaf from her jacket and throwing it to the forest floor.

“Yeah- I’m.. I’m fine. That was really fun actually. C’mon I wanna see the spot” she said and took it upon herself to tug the reins so Star would take off again

“Shi-it!” He quickly finds his balance, “warn me!! Oh god I almost flew off!!” He told her.

“You think I’d let her throw you off?” She mimics him from earlier and he takes the chance to playfully pinch her waist

“Yes because who’s in back and who’s in front?” He wrapped his arms around her again, taking the reins from her grasp. “Your reign privileges have been revoked for this riding lesson, Ms.Adamu”

She laughed a bit “I’ll earn them back. Don’t worry” she mused.

“Mmm we need to talk about more shit before I just literally hand the reins over. Coulda spooked her and we’d be fuckin dead.” he angled the outside reigns so she’d slow down as they came to the clearing.

“Here we are” he hopped off, raising his arms to help her down.

She carefully reached out for him and he lifted her off, gently setting her down. “Holy fuck Carmy” she turned around, watching the waterfall cascade down over the rocks.

“Right! Told you. It’s a fire spot” he went over to one of the rocks he usually sat at, plopping down and taking out a cigarette. “Oh- shit- can’t have y’running off” he told Stardust and chuckled, leaving the cigarette between his lips as he walked over to her, guiding her over to the tree, and hooking her right rein around a branch before sitting back down.

“Yeah…I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere so…” she trailed off, looking at all the trees and running water.

“Green?” Carmy lit his cigarette, taking a drag. “Not packed with smog? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit.” He said as he exhaled.

“…yeah” she said and laughed a bit. “Yeah. Guess that’s it.” She came and sat next to him. “What did you mean about her getting scared?” She asked curiously.

“Oh- a scared horse will fucking kill you. Not on purpose, but they’re big and pure muscle, and will do anything to get away from danger. I scared the shit out of her one time, that was it. Dislocated my shoulder 8th day here. Doing that hurts like a bitch by the way.” He rolled his shoulder gently.

“How’d you manage that? God I knew you were shit at chatting up girls but she dislocated your shoulder?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, taking another drag. “Yes, I was fuckin around on the trail, dunno why- but there was this branch sticking out so I grabbed it, it snapped, she fuckin reeeared dude. I flew back so hard. My back might still be bruised I’m not sure. Still hurts a little to laugh” he said.

“You better have seen a doctor” she said.

“Ohhh silly Syd.” He sighed, a puff of smoke filling the air in front of him. “We aren’t allowed to refuse treatment here. If you get hurt, and you refuse to get help, it’s considered self harm, which leads to them believing you have suicidal ideation, which leads to you being locked in the actual nuthouse. So yes. I willingly went to the doctor daily for a week. And now, I’m being checked on once a week. So yeah. Oh and therapy daily. And every day I’m given my meds and someone checks over ‘pre-existing injuries’ which that is now considered. So yeah. I’m good. I’m fuckin fine as fine can be.” He said.

“Awww poor little chef, being taken care of so well that’s so hard isn’t it?” She teased and he gives her a playful glare, but couldn’t help but crack a smile when he realized she was smiling too.

“I was being taken care of fine at home by myself but you and my sister just had to ship me off after one tiny accident” he leaned back on his hand, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It stops becoming an accident when you didn’t care, Carm. You didn’t care. It didn’t phase you. You weren’t even…you weren’t even scared. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you did the sane thing which would have been doing everything you could to not let something like that happen.” She said, her tone suddenly serious.

He looked down at his lap, swallowing thickly. He suddenly felt all of the armor he’d spent the last 31 days chipping at, slowly start to meld back together and shell him back in at the shame the whole situation was making him feel.

“I have nightmares…you know. About it. What happened” she said quietly, and he could physically feel his heart ripping open.

The only sound between them was the bubbling stream, and the sounds of their even breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze fixed on his lap knowing he would burst into tears at the admission she’d been so deeply plagued by something he’d done, if he had looked at her.

“I know” was all she said, gently resting her hand on top of his. He felt the same fireworks exploding in his chest that he only ever felt when she was around.

“Do you um…” he clears his throat and shook his head, embarrassed by the question plaguing his mind. “Never mind it’s..it’s stupid.” He removed his hand, putting his cigarette in it and resting the hand opposite of her on the rock.

“That usually means it’s not stupid. What?” She coaxed, bumping his knee with hers gently.

“It’s stupid” he said again, shrugging his shoulders.

“It can’t be stupider then asking me what UPS means” She said playfully. He rolled his eyes, smiling and looking over at her.

“And what if it is?” He questioned.

“I would be..worried they’re giving you a bad concoction of meds that’s turning your glorious chef brain in to Swiss cheese” she teased

He snorts a laugh. “I was gonna ask..if you wanted to cook..t’night. My cabin…it uh- has a kitchen? I haven’t cooked in a month. They give us food so I haven’t really bothered but…seeing you makes me miss it more, I guess” he blushed, looking back down at his lap.

“Well obviously. Not gonna let you eat whatever bullshit they’ve been giving you while I’m around.” She said and he shook his head, meeting her gaze once more with a playful smirk.

“Maybe you should check in. My therapist says it’s bad apparently to feel ‘responsible for others’ - says it’s a ‘subconscious self harming behavior’ “ he teased.

She smiled a bit. “Okay- say I do. How about, I check in now, we shoot the shit for what- eleven more days- then, you go back home- and see how stressful it is in that restaurant when one of your hands is basically missing” she plucked the cigarette bud he’d forgotten about from between his fingers before it burnt him, flicking it into the creek.

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen you smoke- other then…me like checking on you when you were about to explode at work. But you’ve never…pulled one out and smoked it I guess” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on her forearm as she looked at him.

“Oh…” he said, pulling one of his legs up and resting his arm on it. “Didn’t realize you noticed” he said, brushing some dirt off his jeans.

“I notice a lot of stupid shit about you, it’s kinda annoying honestly.” She said without thinking, her eyes widening when she realized and she looked the other way, resting her other cheek on her knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

Why would you ever say that?! She asked herself internally.

“Oh?” He said again, smiling a bit. “You do?” He questions, but that was as far as he’d push.

“Mhm” was all she responded. Carmys phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out in case it was one of the ‘base keepers’ they called them. Carmy rather call them babysitters. He knew what they were for, being sure if they were out of sight too long they were making sure they could still get ahold of them.

He sighed in relief when he saw it was just his 2:40 alarm. “Gotta go” he stood up, offering his hand to Syd. “Like- now. Or my ass is getting chewed out.”

The ride back to the cabins was mostly silent. He had no stool this time, so he had to pick up Syd essentially by the ass and gently place her on Stars back so she didn’t get spooked.

He was embarassed as fuck that the tiny action had the crotch region of his jeans tightening more then was casually explainable. Thank god no one was around to see him awkwardly hop in the way of his semi hard third leg down his left pant leg, grunting but covering it with a dry cough when she settled her ass back into him to ‘center their gravity’

Syd absolutely felt the firmness pressing into her ass. She thought it was a bit funny, but also brushed it off to the strange friction that came with riding a horse. She couldn’t allow herself to fully believe his teenage like excitement was due to her, or she’d go insane.

Carmy dropped Syd off at his cabin, giving her the key and telling her he’d put up Stardust and be back by 5, she would be blushing if it weren’t for her mahogany complexion at the domesticity of it all - er what she could imagine domesticity with Carmy would feel like.

Her panties were also soaked through from the feeling of his enormous length pressed into the curve of her ass - the entire way back - but she just chalked that up to not getting laid for a few months, and misreading his natural arousal for him being horny- she quickly pushed the thought down and just chalked it up to the horse. Because guys get hard when they ride horses…right? Right?!

Carmen arrived to therapy extremely frustrated, and extremely ready to talk. He sat down in his regular spot in the back, tapping his knee nervously and covering his crotch with his hands. Luckily, thinking about his mother was enough to make him soft nearly instantly so he had that to thank her for at least.

“Alright guys!” Julienne, the usual Friday therapist came in, sitting in her spot in the circle. “Who is up today! We are-“ she looks at her iPad “oh! Yes this is another OP class, so- no pressure but, I wanna hear what’s goin on!” She crossed her legs.

Julie was far from his favorite therapist, at Blue Lotus. But he wasn’t his least favorite. So he would still talk. He cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly.

“Carmy?! What a treat! Okay what’s up” she grabbed her little stylus pencil. He bit the inside of his lip nervously. He despised how casual she tried to make this all feel.

“Uh…so- my um…business partner, she came to see me. I guess I haven’t been…keeping touch? Enough? She just said she was worried…” he cleared his throat again, gaze fixed on his lap. “And uh…I’m startin’ t’-t’realize stuff?” He sniffled nervously, rubbing his mouth with slightly clammy, nervous hands.

“She uh..” he chuckled a bit. “She…she just…showed up. Didn’t hear shit from ‘er. She probably knew that I’d uh…I’d tell ‘er no?” He finally meets the gaze of Julie.

“Okay. You know guests are allowed right? Like- during the visiting hours, 6am to 11pm, no fraternizing between patients but-“ Carmen cuts her off

“We aren’t - no. Not fraternizing” He shook his head. “But uh…today? We were- we were sitting. This spot, near uh, Jupiter point? On the north side. And I had this- this urge T-to tell her…everything.” He shook his head, looking at the floor again.

“So…you wanted to tell her you love her?” Jesse, one of the guys he’d had lunch with a few times piped up.

“T’be honest, I don’t know.” Carmen said honestly, looking at him.

“Well what does it feel like?” Jesse asked, sitting up a bit.

“What? Like- what does what feel like?” Carmen asked curiously.

“Her. Being with her. Talking to her? Inside. Like. Your chest. Your skin?” He questioned.

“Uh…” Carmen sat back, swallowing thickly and crossing his arms over his chest. He thought for a moment.

“Hot. I get hot. All over. My chest feels tight but - but good? Like- a hug almost. And then…when she…” he blushed, looking down with a shy smile. “When she touches me” he shook his head slightly. “When she touches me it’s like um.. fireworks? Like fireworks beneath my skin.” He chuckled a bit at how cheesy it sounded.

“And you haven’t fucking nailed her?” Jessie asked plainly.

Carmen furrowed his brows, glaring at him. “No” he clenched his jaw “I haven’t.” He snips.

“Dude- you are- pussy whipped with no pussy?! You- you love her, Carmen. You love this chick. I feel like I’m looking in a weird straight mirror - the first time-“ he laughed a bit “the first time I kissed a guy- god. He was so hot. But I had no idea! I had no idea. I really thought that I was just-“ he shook his head “that I was just wanting to befriend him? Or something? But like- I wanted to fuck him. And when I did kiss him? Something unlocked in my brain dude. It was like…like a whole new world. I felt like I knew - I knew what love could feel like? Just ‘cause of that one kiss “ he shrugged.

Carmen looked at him, arms crossed, trying to absorb everything he was saying even though every fiber of his former self was screaming to take it with nothing more than a grain of salt.

“Kiss her dude. Kiss her.” Jesse said and sat back in his chair.

“Well. Although, consensual sexual instances are against the code of conduct to discuss - I am very proud to see you two coming out of your shells. Has anyone else felt… confused in their romantic endeavors and would like to share?” Julie asked.

Carmen crossed his arms tighter, looking down at his lap. This was quite unusual for him, he was one of the patients to only add what he had to to be credited during inpatient, and during outpatient - only spoke when he really and honestly had to.

“Uh-“ the super tall girl, Shayna sits up. Carmen was never really sure why she was here. She looked…perfect by all means. Perfect skin, perfect nails, pretty face, long blonde hair, a perfect body by girl standards. Or at least what Carmen had understood of them.

“Not really the same.. but before I came out? I like…I would uh buy…girl clothes. That I liked. For my girlfriends at the time…” she blushed “and um.. I realized after a while that I liked them. And I wasn’t just..wanting to see my girlfriend in them. And like- it’s not the exact same, but when he said… about how Jesse realized he wanted the guy. That’s how I felt when I finally tried the clothes on” she shrugged.

Carmen was…aghast. He just simply stared at her. He’d never met- or thought- he’d ever met a trans person before today. But…Shayna?

Well- he was wrong because he had met her, they actually knew each other fairly well as far as patients go, she joined the program when he did. When they first met, she’d made a joke about how they were the tallest girl and shortest guy in the class, so that meant they were bound to be friends, since opposites attract - and that earned a chuckle out of him before his meds had even fully evened out.

“I love the cis-and-confused look- it’s cute” she said and laughed a bit. Carmen blushed, smiling a bit.

“Not confused- well, maybe. Maybe a little. Y’Just so…dainty? I dunno..” he shrugged.

“In case you haven’t noticed- mr.little man syndrome- you’re only one out with the cows doing the hay on time in the morning. Ninty percent of the group is your version of dainty ” Jesse teased.

“Jesse” Julie gives him the look. “I’d assume that means- the rest of you that aren’t out helping with the bales- are scraping out the cow pens? Since Carmen is doing all the hard work according to you.”

“I’m not girl- fuck no! The second I got out of inpatient house arrest? I walked my happy ass down to Walmart and bought me some blackout curtains. I recommend those to all of you! Oh my god and some ear plugs!! The stupid fucking roosters! Worst 15 days of my lifeee! I’m never coming back here peace and love to you all though. Truly. Can’t stand this cow shit stank ass place.” Shayna said dramatically, causing Carmen to chuckle a bit.

He had loved her boldness since they’d met. If Shayna didn’t want to do something- she wasn’t doing it. He learned that the day the staff tried to force her on anti-depressants. One of the main therapists got a Wellbutrin straight to the eye, they never attempted that battle the same way again.

“We know Shayna you aren’t shoveling scat, princesses don’t do that” Jesse mocked her valley girl tone.

“Okay! Okay. Alriiiight! Back on track- done with the bickering!” Julie said. “Now that open call is over let’s move on to breakthroughs. This issss-“ she looks at her iPad “ah- yes! D group. So. That makes it-“ he checks her watch “ah- right. 11 days! How are your light tunnel projects going?” She questioned.

Carmen’s chest tightened, but not in the Syd is smiling or he made Syd laugh way- in the - I haven't done something I was meant to do way.

The Light Tunnel project wasn’t hard. It was simply one thing you have done that you had wanted to do when you came into the program. And Carmy knew what his answer was,

Admit how he felt to Sydney.

Or, as his Therapist- Mandy told him ‘become more truthful with yourself and those you know about how you feel’ because “counting on someone to like him back would put him at square one” he had pretended to understand, but knew that he had to tell her and soon - or he was going to really go insane.

“ my light tunnel was to talk to my asshole father- but lucky for me I just caught wind the motherfucker finally died thank god. So by default I win and don’t have to be here anymore cause his abandonment was what fucked me up anyhow“ Shayna said jokingly, causing Carm to snort a laugh. He knew she was only joking about the leaving early part, not the father part. Her father was an even bigger piece of shit then Carmen’s was, he had come to learn.

“Mmm that isn’t how it works we know that Shayna. We’ll talk more about this in one to one “ Julie told her and Shayna crossed her long legs, looking out the window.

The last 20 minutes of the session Carmen sat silently, looking out the opposite window to Shayna, watching the horses running around in the field before they got called in for dinner and just spacing out, thinking about what he may say to Syd.

“Yo - Carm space cadet” Shayna said before kicking his boot he jumped a bit, looking up at them both and had realized the room since had cleared and Julie was preparing for her next session.

“Shit.” He said “how long have I been like…like that?” He asked, his cheeks feeling hot.

“It’s the OCD meds. They get you stuck in a happy thought loop sometimes. Are you just gonna sit here? You wanna do another hour of this with sniveling group a? They got here three days ago.” Jesse said. Carm shook his head, getting up.

“No- no sorry” he said starting with them outside. Shayna laughed a bit

“You were thinking of screwing that business partner aren’t you. “ she said, causing Carmys cheeks to go pinker.

“Shayna shut up!” Jesse scolded, pushing her shoulder lightly.

“Awwww carmyyy are your feelings hurt little buddy? Do you need a hug? Jesus men are such pussys” she pushed open the doors of the therapy cabin for them.

“Let me see pictures of this hot chick. If you don’t fuck her I will and I bet I’d do a better job” Shayna teased as they started heading back towards the cabins.

Carmen couldn’t even process what she said as he felt his breath get caught in his chest, he saw her. She was sitting on the porch of his cabin, criss-cross in one of the rocking chairs as she writes in her notebook. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at the way the setting sun hit her bronze skin, her curls casting intricate patterned shadows on the wood. He felt his heart pick up, his chest squeezing in that way, the way that only happened when he saw her.

Shayna and Jesse stopped after a few moments when they realized Carm had gotten stuck behind. They both follow his gaze carefully to see what he was so fixed on, like a trance.

“Holy fuuuck!!! Holy fuck how did I get this lucky!! She’s here? She’s here still?!” Shana asked excitedly, “oh my god- you’re getting laid- tonight” she excitedly skips up to the cabin and Syd looks up, locking eyes with her before seeing Carmen just a few paces behind. “I’m Shayna! Do you and Carm wanna hang out with us tonight?”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

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cellarspider · 3 months

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Part 3/??: Meet David

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We return to the movie I want to bite down on with all of my teeth, Prometheus.

This time, we meet a man so bored he has invented new solo sports and started doing his hair like his blorbo, T.E. Lawrence.

Meet David (Michael Fassbender). He’s implied to be a little over two years old, and he’s been completely alone for the vast majority of his life.

Actually, I lied. The movie first wants to throw another small strain on our suspension of disbelief: David has a VR visor he can use to view the dreams of the human crew in suspended animation. This is technically a plot point, and thus it is delivered with all the grace of this deer.

youtube

I cannot emphasize enough how clunky the movie becomes when plot or deliberate character arcs are being communicated through dialog scenes.

We find out from dream-peeping that Elizabeth Shaw’s father (horror actor Patrick Wilson) was a devout christian of some variety, possibly a missionary, and her mom died when she was young. She was given a cross necklace, which we see in blurry montage-o-vision before David wanders off.

We see David’s routine: Pick up tiny specks of dust, send out first contact messages and receive no response, perfect the lonely sport of solo bicycle-riding shootout, eat android breakfast and take a Proto-Indo-European language lesson, watch Lawrence of Arabia (1962) while dying his roots, quote the most Definitely Not Suffering line to himself over and over again as he does his hair like Peter O’Toole and wanders the halls, waiting for something to happen. “The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.”

David is going to later profess to have no emotions, but I think that given the chance, he would at least admit his enclosure needs enrichment.

This is one of the strongest scenes in the movie. David is a novel creation of humanity, and he has been left alone, with only the memories and dreams of humans to extrapolate off of. He has been abandoned without thought for his needs, stuffed down into Plato's Cave. We don’t know yet whether the people on the ship see him as a person, but we know they’re thoughtless in how they’ve treated him. He’s bright, he’s inventive, he’s chosen a way he wants to be seen, but he’s seen by no one.

I’m sure this is going to turn out great for everybody.

And as a side note, while I didn’t know it at the time, David’s language tutor is the actual historical linguist that they employed for the movie, Anil Biltoo. His and Fassbender’s pronunciations were strong enough that even a hobbyist in linguistics could tell that they were really, really trying to get it right. They even reference Schleicher’s fable, the first piece of text anyone ever created from reconstructed Proto-Indo-European. This level of nerdy detail made me excited.

Side note to the side note, Biltoo also has an introductory textbook on Sanskrit you can buy, if you’re a maniac like I am.

This scene kept part of me hopeful for the rest of the movie, because it’s so strong. The “not minding that it hurts” line is a little on the nose, but overall it has the feel of something that could be expanded into an extremely melancholy short film. Or, hell, a Tarkovsky-esque feature film. Moon (2009) could be another point of comparison. In any case, this scene gives you a little space to feel all the quiet suffering of David’s existence.

But unfortunately for the movie as a whole, this sets David up as the most sympathetic character. I personally had already been drawn in by the promotional “advert” for the David-8 model android (see part 1). Now I was invested in this particular David’s story. The rest of the film didn’t manage to yank back much sympathy for anybody else.

Because the general vibe I soon picked up from the rest of the crew was that they were absolute hooting jackasses.

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

Sources alt-text facts:

1. https://www.denofgeek.com/movies/how-ron-perlman-nearly-ruined-the-alien-resurrection-basketball-shot/ 2. https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0766970/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t50

#Prometheus 2012 #Lawrence of Arabia is 131 years old in this movie #For a point of comparison:#that's like someone today basing their style off of Mark Twain's Pudd'nhead Wilson #Not the worse choice but certainly not the first one someone would reach for

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peak-dumbass · 3 months

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I’m bored and procrastinating so let me spout my rid2015!smokebee propaganda at y’all please just hear me out

Now y’all maybe wondering “why are you specifying rid2015?? Smokescreen was only in TFP, bro doesn’t exist in rid2015–” EXACTLY! Smokescreen wasn’t in rid2015 so most of the stuff made for the ship is for them in TFP but that’s not what I’m trying to sell y’all on

I’m trying to sell y’all on the idea that — if Smokescreen was in rid2015, he would be in a relationship with Bee — hence the specification

Now what y’all are probably asking is “why????”

Well that’s what this post is for!! First off:

The Shenanigans

Idk if y’all remember but Smokey was the silliest bot on Team Prime, easily the most immature mf in the main cast (other than Miko) — now try to tell me without lying to my face that he wouldn’t fit in perfectly with the goofy goobers the make up Team Bee??

He would definitely see himself in Sideswipe and try to bond with him thru pranks and goofing off while also trying to guide him into avoiding the same mistakes he made (ex. Hard Knocks)

He probably makes Strongarm feel conflicted cuz his reckless personality clashes with her image of what an “Elite Guardsman” would act like, but I think Smokescreen would just try to get her to loosen up a bit while not bickering with her unlike what Sideswipe and her usually do

Upon seeing Grimlock he’d immediately go “HOLY SCRAP ARE YOU A DINOBOT!?!?!”, he thinks Grim is so cool and really wants to spar with him

He probably sees Arcee in the way Drift acts and respects him a lot just based on that alone, though he knows it’s gonna take time for him to earn that respect back from Drift (I LOVE HIS CHARACTER GROWTH IN PRIME AND I WILL KEEP THAT IN THIS SILLY LITTLE IDEA OF MINE, HE DID GET BETTER AND I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE IGNORE THAT JUST CUZ THEY FIND HIM ANNOYING)

He’s probably not met much minicons so he’s not used to them, but I can see him having a good friendship with Fixit and being very nice to Jetstorm and Slipstream

He takes one look at Russell, turns to Bee and says “do you have a thing for human kids with brown hair and names starting with R??” Other than that I think he vibes with Russell and Denny well

As for his dynamics with the Decepticons — he’d be making constant quips, he’d make fun of all of them immediately like a robot alien version of Spider-Man — after previously fighting against Megatron himself he cannot take any of the furries of rid2015 seriously

The Fluff

Look at me. Like seriously look at me. Look into my eyes and imagine with me for a sec.

Bee and Smokey learning how to work with each other in the field again, reminiscing about the rare good memories during the war

Bee infodumping about Earth culture to him while Smokey just listens while looking at him with borderline heart eyes

I think Bee really likes physical affection and words of affirmation so randomly Smokey will just hug Bee when they’re in the scrapyard and will compliment him when he does well at leading and mentoring the others cuz he knows that shit ain’t easy (again, he sees himself and Sideswipe and realizes “damn I really was annoying holy scrap I’m so sorry”)

I HC that Smokey can still move his doorwings like he and Bee did in TFP, so whenever he sees Bee and gets excited his flap up and down (I know this is purely self indulgent BUT IN MY DEFENSE THIS ENTIRE POST IS ME BEING SELF INDULGENT, THIS FANDOM IS ALREADY DEAD AS HELL I’D BE SURPRISED IF ANYONE EVEN READS THIS FAR INTO THIS POST, LET ME BE SELF INDULGENT IN PEACE)

When either of them get bad days where they just keep thinking about the war, they do their best to comfort each other thru it cuz, unlike the rest of the team, they were both there for most of the late-war-shit together on Earth — and for the stuff that Smokey wasn’t there for, he just listens and makes sure Bee knows that he’ll always be there for him

The shock of the team finding out that Bee has a partner is amazing and it could happen in so many ways (if y’all wanna see one of my interpretations on how this could go you could check out my fanfic: Old Recruit on AO3)

The team seeing their usually serious team leader be partners with this unserious constant-joker of a bot stores a lot of cute potential stories in it that no one is writing about — like come on guys I want Bee trying to be serious in the scrapyard but then Smokey just hugs him from behind out of nowhere and Bee just has to process it for a sec cuz touch starvation go brrrr while the rest of them is like :O

The Angst

While this section is mainly Smokey focused more than smokebee focused, I’m still adding it cuz this still falls under the “what if smokescreen was in rid2015” idea

Smokey definitely has claustrophobia and a hatred for being restrained in anyway from the TFP (waking up captive on a Decepticon ship after being knocked out, Knockout restraining him on his operating table while he tears the Omega Key from inside his body, being stuck with a dying Optimus in a cramped cave for a while panicking cuz holy shit Optimus, his #1 hero, is fucking dying) so any mission that requires going into a cave or dark & cramped area is gonna cause him to freak out — but of course he wouldn’t actually admit that until it’s too late and he’s having a breakdown in a cave cuz he didn’t want to let his “stupid irrational fear to ruin a mission”

Same goes with Bee and his fears — I touched on this a bit earlier, but Bee & Smokey definitely have some days where they’re gonna feel off and they can’t get the war out of their heads — and those days are gonna be the worst cuz most of the team outside of maybe Drift won’t really understand it

Smokey is gonna have some feelings about Optimus coming back and Bee not telling him immediately — while this isn’t the first time Optimus died and came back to him, last time it was for a few seconds, this was for THREE WHOLE YEARS — he’s still gonna be happy that he’s back, it’s just gonna take awhile longer for him to be ok with it than the others (the way that Ratchet is immediately ok with Optimus coming back out of nowhere in rid!2015 was weird to me so I’m fixing that with Smokey)

While he loves giving Bee physical affection, he hates unwarranted touching from anyone else, specifically stuff like pats or punches on the back (Alpha Trion when I get you Alpha Trion Alpha Trion when I get you Alpha Trion Alpha Trion when I get you Alpha Trion Alpha—)

For a potential angsty introduction to Smokey in rid2015: He doesn’t meet up with Team Bee until the finale episode on Cybertron, where he’s being mind controlled by The High Council to capture them (I’m a sucker for brainwashing/mind control/hypnotism plots so I need to understand how BADLY I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN IN THE SHOW IT WOULD’VE BEEN SO COOL)

That’s all I can think of for now, I just love these funky big robos a lot and I’m currently smashing their faces together like a kid with 2 Barbie dolls in my mind, hope y’all enjoyed reading <3

#tfp #rid 15 #rid 2015 #rid15 #rid2015 #tf rid 2015 #tf rid15 #transformers rid2015 #transformers robots in disguise #robots in disguise 2015 #transformers robots in disguise 2015 #tfp smokescreen #rid bumblebee #smokebee

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baronessblixen · 7 months

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Prompt? Mulder and Scully pick out baby furniture and later talk about baby names? Or one or the other, I'm happy either way! 🙈

Look who's answering a five-year-old prompt! I think this was supposed to be about the new baby, but I wrote about William instead.

Fluff, set after "Alone": With Mulder being unemployed, and Scully on maternity leave, they spend their time thinking about furniture, baby names, and all the ways their lives will change. (wc: 1,378)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 14: Preparation is Everything

Fox Mulder is a new man.

His naked body is still adorned with pale scars, but they’re healing, slowly fading away. Soon, they will be gone, and with them the only proof of what he went through. How many people can claim to have come back from the death? Mulder doesn’t even want to know.

The other day, Scully left a pamphlet for group therapy on his coffee table. His first instinct was to throw it into the trash, but then he reconsidered. Scully isn’t pushing him. No one is. They’re all just glad he’s back among the living. Well, most of them. He bets that Kersh can’t wait for him to die for real. That feeling, he realizes, is mutual.

When he stood in front of Kersh's desk, his former boss barely able to contain his glee, he was ready to fight. To defend himself and go on another rampage. That feeling lasted all of five seconds. Not worth it, a voice inside him whispered. He thought of Scully, and the baby, and knew that they were the only thing that mattered to him now. They didn’t need him jumping off oil rigs. He’s caused Scully seven years of grief and he was done. Enough was enough. Someone else could take over the X-Files. He may not trust Doggett yet, but Scully does. And when Scully trusts someone, he knows they’re good people.

So, he’s Fox Mulder now. Just Fox Mulder. Unemployed bum, spending time at his partner’s apartment whenever she lets him, and trying to figure out what to do next.

“What are you doing?” Mulder asks as he steps into the living room where Scully sits on the couch, engrossed in a colorful catalog.

“Looking at baby furniture,” she replies with a sigh.

“I thought- I thought you already had everything.”

“I thought I’d have more time,” she admits sheepishly, biting her lip. Seeing his Scully unprepared for anything just makes him love her more. But he knows better than to tease her.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Mulder says, sitting down next to her. “We both have plenty of time. With me being fired, and you on maternity leave, we have all the time in the world. Let’s go shopping.”

“Mulder, we have the catalog.” She points at a crib with a smiling baby inside of it. Mulder thinks it looks a bit like an alien. “We can order everything we need.”

“Or,” he says, drawing the word out. “We can go into a store and pick things out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want the kid to sleep in a thing that looks like this.” He points at the ugliest crib he’s ever seen. “$1000? Does it come with the whole apartment? Come on, Scully. It’s going to be a nice trip to Babies'R'Us.”

“Does no one work anymore?” Mulder mumbles as he and Scully step into the crowded baby store. There are squeaky bright colors everywhere and Mulder doesn’t know where to start. He keeps close to Scully’s side, but she, too, seems overwhelmed by the sheer size of this place.

“Wish you were hunting monsters instead?” he asks Scully and she gives him a small smile.

“At least we have experience with that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mulder assures her. “Look, that’s the baby section. Let’s start there.”

In the end, it’s not as difficult as either of them thought it would be. It doesn’t take them long to find the essentials. They both fall in love with the same crib and Mulder gets so excited that he kisses her quickly and noisily in front of another family, not caring at all.

“Mulder.” Her cheeks are coloring and she’s looking around nervously. Old habits die hard.

“I doubt we’ll run into Skinner or Kersh here, Scully. Or anyone we know. Either way, we’re not working together anymore, are we?” The realization hits him that he’s telling the truth. As of right now, they’re no longer work partners. There’s nothing holding them together. He’s not even FBI anymore.

“Are you all right?” Scully touches his chest.

“I’m- I just realized that we’re no longer partners.”

“Are you leaving me?” There’s no worry in her voice, but rather amusement.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mulder, we don’t need to be working together in the basement to be partners. You know that, right? We are partners in this.” She takes his hand and puts it on her stomach. “Unless you-”

“Oh, I want. I’m all in, Scully. I hope you know that?” She nods, and he sees a few tears pool in the corner of her eyes. He almost ruined another moment with his insecurities.

“Do you think we have everything we need for now?”

“You’re tired,” Mulder states and she doesn’t deny it.

“And hungry,” she says with an apologetic smile.

“We’ll get you and Junior something to eat. Let’s get out of here.”

Their baby is a pizza lover. They may not know much about their child yet, but they do know that. Mulder watches Scully happily lick her fingers clean after eating a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza and thinks he might even be a little turned out by her enjoyment of it.

“Happy now?” he asks her, unable to hide his own happiness.

“Very much so. I just- I need to get comfortable.” She’s half sitting, half lying on the couch, and watching him with curious eyes. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Who can blame her? After all, she had to bury him. Had to try and make peace with him being gone and having to do all of this on her own. He doesn’t want to think about missing all of this. He’s missed so much already. The moment she found out. The morning sickness. Her growing belly. He missed all of it. He can only try to make up for all of it now. But they will never get that time back.

“Mulder, stop,” she says gently, a hand on his thigh. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Can you?” he asks with a sad smile.

“I wish I could turn back the time and-”

“None of this is your fault, Scully.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“Debatable.”

“Not debatable,” she says firmly. “You’re here now and it’s everything- Mulder, it’s everything.”

“You know you’ll see a lot of me now, right? With me being out of a job. I need to- I will find something. We can’t let Junior think I’m some kind of slob.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Scully whispers as if she were sharing a secret.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” She winks at him and they both laugh softly. A truce.

“Have you thought about names for Junior?” Mulder asks as Scully snuggles into his side. He puts his arm around her and, a bit more hesitantly, lets his hand wander to her stomach. What a miracle they’ve created together.

“I have a few ideas. What about you?”

“It’s your decision.”

“Mulder.”

“No, I think you should decide. I’ll veto if it’s something like… Nimrod.”

“Too bad. That was my favorite.” She grins up at him. “I was thinking about all the people we lost. Samantha and Melissa. We could pick something similar to that, to honor them. Or give them a name with no memories attached. Give them a fresh start.”

“They deserve a fresh start.” Mulder kisses her temple.

“All of us do,” Scully says, putting her hand on top of Mulder’s on her stomach. “We’ll know what to call him when we see him.”

“Him?” Mulder asks.

“Or her.”

“You know,” Mulder says, closing his eyes, and letting his imagination take over. “I think our child is going to change the world. Save it even, maybe. They’re going to do great things.” He can see it. Can see their child grow up from baby to child, to teenager and adult. He can’t wait to be there and watch every single step they take. Holding their hand if they need him to.

“I think you’re right, Mulder,” Scully says.

“You hear that, baby?” Mulder presses his ear to her stomach, murmuring the words against the fabric of her shirt. “Your mom just said I’m right.”

#fictober23 #so proud of myself seriously #not the oldest prompt i might add #i was *this* close to writing angst #ohhh and i will #but you get fluff today #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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wisteria-cherry · 10 months

Text

forty days and forty nights (day nine!)

(woahh day nine look at us go!!)

(read them all here!)

the next day at work, which was a saturday, you found yourself especially looking forward to bakugo’s appearance. you felt like you’d become friends with him— real, actual friends— after going to the party with him and kirishima. it was incredibly exciting.

you didn’t have many friends. it’s not like you minded; you liked being able to make your own plans and have time to yourself. but you were always accepting of new friends, particularly those that were your age— most of your current friends (more like close acquaintances) were twice as old as you, maybe even three or four times. so when you got home last night from the party, you were positively glowing, a rush of excitement washing over you (it helped that all of your new friends seemed like the type who were incredibly popular in high school; the kind of people everyone wanted to be around. and pro heroes. that helped too.) mina had actually texted you, asking you to hang out the following wednesday, which you happily agreed to.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by the familiar chime of the sweet little bells that announced the arrival of a customer. bakugo was grumbling, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he entered.

“are you doing alright?” you asked, already ringing him up.

“just fuckin’ exhausted.” he muttered. “make it a large today.”

“okay.” you hum, voiding the transaction and finding it the tiniest bit irksome that the one day you don’t ask for his order is the one day he changes it. you quickly brushed the feeling away. what a dumb thing to be irked by. “go ahead and sit down, it’ll be right out.” bakugo grunted an annoyed “don’t tell me what to do”, but obliged.

“is it from the party last night?” you ask as you hand him his coffee, which he promptly takes a drink from.

“yeah. those fuckers wouldn’t shut up in the group chat after it was over.” bakugo tched.

“ah, they must have kept you up, then.” you said sympathetically.

“no shit.”

“hey, speaking of, is mina a pro hero, too?”

“yeah.”

“what’s hero hero name? and her quirk?” you pressed.

“her quirk’s acid, and her hero name’s pinky.” he answered somewhat reluctantly.

“so do you call all your friends by their hero names?” you immediately regretted asking. after all, bakugo called kirishima shitty hair.

“hell no.” bakugo scoffed. “i called her pinky in high school and she made it her damn hero name after her first pick was rejected.”

“what was her first pick?” you ask curiously.

“alien queen or some dumb shit like that.”

“was dynamight your first pick?”

“no. they rejected my first two.” bakugo scowled, recalling the memory darkly.

“what were they?”

“lord explosion murder and king explosion murder.” you stared at him, dumbfounded.

it sounds exactly like your current one!! you wanted to scream, but you were too busy holding in your laughter.

“if you laugh, i’ll kill you.” bakugo hissed.

“i’m— i’m not laughing.” you managed to say between gasps, holding your hand to your mouth to block any sounds from coming out.

“i can see your shoulders shaking!” bakugo shouted.

“they’re not!” you didn’t even try to make your lie sound convincing.

“yes they are!”

“okay, okay, changing the subject now,” you snickered. “where did you go to high school?”

“hah?” bakugo seemed almost offended that you didn’t know what high school he went to. “ua. the best hero school.”

“i went to middle school with someone who went there, i think.” you mused airily. bakugo narrowed his eyes.

“who?”

“his name was monoma. neito monoma?” you guessed, not quite knowing his full name. bakugo immediately looked irked.

“that asshole…” he seethed.

“yeah, he had an ego to him.” you reminisced. “but there was this girl who always managed to subdue him.”

“they were annoying as fuck. they were in class b.” he spat.

“were you in class b?”

“hell no!” bakugo seemed offended at this also. “i was in class a. the best.”

“ahh, right.” you nodded as though this were obvious from the start.

“shut up.” bakugo grumbled, taking another sip of his coffee.

“so how was work?” you decide to change the subject. you were having to do this an awful lot today, you noticed. he seemed especially grumpy.

“tiring as shit.” he tched.

“did you get any villains?” you smiled. you figured that if he was feeling down, an ego boost would make him feel better. he looked up from his coffee. you had him hooked.

“…yeah.” he answered. “yeah, i did.”

“how many?” now he grinned that vicious grin of his that could, frankly, be borderline sadistic.

“twelve. beat their asses. they didn’t even stand a chance.” he boasted.

“obviously.” you smiled, leaning against the counter, “because you’re the number one hero.”

“you’re damn right i am.” bakugo smirked. “one of ‘em tried to flee like a little bitch when he found out i was gonna beat his ass.”

“did he really?” you laugh. “you’ve got quite the reputation, then.”

“damn right i do.” you found yourself smiling as bakugo answered. sure, his ego was more blown up than the villains he’d encountered today, but you were happy he was at least feeling better. “i’m number one, ain’t i?”

“that you are.” you confirm. bakugo downed the rest of his coffee.

“yeah, well, i’ve gotta go.” he stood up. he narrowed his eyes and looked away, scowling. “thanks for the coffee, i guess.”

ah, he thanked you.

“of— of course.” you stammer, not expecting him to actually thank you but recovering quickly nonetheless.

“yeah, whatever.” bakugo turned to leave, then looked back at you briefly. he didn’t say a word, but you smiled and waved. he scoffed, looking annoyed. but he waved back, and you could see the barest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.

“are you doing alright?”

“just fuckin’ exhausted.”

<- previous next->

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugo oneshot #mha #bnha oneshots #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo slow burn

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honourablejester · 6 months

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I’m watching Pathfinder lore videos, because I just enjoy looking at other people’s worldbuilding, and a tiny little nugget stuck with me. I was watching this video on the demon lords of the Abyss, and it came to Angazhan, the great ape demon of jungles, apes and tyranny. And it just mentions that his realm, Ahvoth-Kor, is formed in a great ravine in the Abyss, with jungles on either wall, but gravity pulls towards the walls, so as you stand on the ‘ground’ in one jungle on one wall, you can see the other above you. Trees and rope bridges cross the gap, which must be fascinating as you cross the halfway point and gravity abruptly reverses itself. And I just. I mean, Angazhan doesn’t do much for me as himself, but his realm caught my attention the most in the entire video, just for that one detail. Because it’s so cool. He lives in a folded realm. You can climb a pillar to the sky and then fall up the top half of it to the ground on the far side.

And it just made me realise that I love the Abyss, or rather the potential of the Abyss, in both its D&D and Pathfinder incarnations. Because chaos gets all the cool world states. Because chaos feels free to break the rules and get weird, and therefore give you fantastic landscapes like Ahvoth-Kor. Which is actually quite normal, aside from the fact that it’s folded double on itself. You could go so much weirder.

But, at the same time, I also hate the Abyss, just slightly. Because you can’t get weird, apparently, without also getting evil. Because, while I have seen the chaotic good and chaotic neutral planes mentioned, they don’t get anywhere near as much attention. How many people even know the names of the good-aligned chaotic planes? And, yes, Limbo and the Maelstrom are more of a thing, and the Maelstrom at least is fantastically cool, but they’re not focused on really either. Because they don’t have cool themed villains hanging out in them. Which is, granted, another excellent selling point of the Abyss. Demon lords are a lot more idiosyncratic than archdevils, more, again, weird and wonderful. On the D&D side, which I’m more familiar with, I do adore Juiblex, Zuggtmoy and Fraz-Urb’luu. When you are shaping your realm out of raw chaos to match your personality, it gives you a degree of wild customisation that more lawful, rigid planes just don’t allow. The demon lords are exciting, in a way archdevils just aren’t for me.

But. It means that if you want really cool fantastic landscapes and batshit world states, you have to go to an evil plane where everything is trying to kill slash torture you. The good aligned chaotic planes of the respective ttrpgs, Elysium and Arborea and the Beastlands, are to a large extent just ‘unchecked nature’, the extremely pastoral idea of untouched wilderness. If you want to see truly cool and alien and fantastic things, you have to get tortured for it.

Or, granted, try the Maelstrom in Pathfinder. The Maelstrom is really cool.

Like. If they’re both formed from raw chaos, why can’t good be equally as batshit? Why can’t you have, I don’t know, a chaotic good sea god whose ship sails upside down on the surface of a vast ocean of air, and whose sea sprite petitioners venture down in diving bells to marvel at the stars? (Sidenote: there could also be more good-aligned sea gods, just as a general note). Why isn’t there a heaven for the souls of subterranean travellers and explorers where they get to spend eternity spelunking absolutely mind-boggling and impossible caves that open out into the raw foam of chaos? Why couldn’t the chaotic good plane also be a nested stew of personalised bubble worlds shaped from raw fundament by strong-willed but mildly-to-majorly batshit themed entities, that are just in this case also friendly and unlikely to torture you out of hand?

Why is good so tame? Even at its wildest, it’s so tame compared to how batshit and weird evil gets to be. Like, yes, good means safety, but safe doesn’t have to mean ‘bounded’. It could mean ‘I will touch my grace upon you so we can witness wonders together’. It could mean ‘let me make a place where fire does not burn so I can turn a sun inside out and let you experience the strange geometries of its interior’.

I just. The Abyss is really, really cool, this strange bubble realm of nested psychoses written onto reality by larger than life beings. I do love it. But. You could have that, and not have it built on suffering. Not instead of, but as well. With equal weight.

Let good be weird too. Let chaos in general just be the place where both horrors and wonders beyond imagining are explored.

As another, related complaint, I know it's to do with game balance and player capabilities, but it's also a bummer that the outer planes in general are something most PCs will never experience first hand, owing to being in general fantastically lethal and/or hard to get to. I just wanna wander Zuggtmoy's fungal fields, and climb rope bridges across the gravity line in Ahvoth-Kor!

Anyway. Carry on.

#pathfinder #d&d #worldbuilding #the abyss #chaos #alignment #i get that the aligned planes in general is dodgy worldbuilding to start with #but also it's such a waste of chaos not to go full weird with it #if this is the exercise we're doing #how are we conceiving chaos in relation to morality #why is good considered inherently less chaotic #also just let me explore some weird-ass landscapes #i just really want to

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youngerfrankenstein · 10 months

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So today I watched two movies where the deuteragonist goes kinda nuts and turns into a dragon thing, before the protagonist has to calm them down.

They were both a pretty fun time!

Promare is something I had been meaning to watch for quite a while but somehow never got around to. Glad I finally did!

Promare has quite possibly the Worst oppression allegory I have ever seen. A bunch of people are discriminated against because they burned half the world and killed billions (with a B!) of people. Also it’s not actually anything inherent to them it’s a bunch of alien parasites that will destroy the planet. However, since this is basically just an excuse for robots to fight other robots on fire… I can’t say I really care in the end. Promare is ENTIRELY style over substance, and I mean that in the best way.

The plot is breakneck and stupid. Most of the characters barely register as such. The dialogue is so dumb. And it FUCKING RULES! I’ve seen the film described as “Anime the Anime” and that does kind of sum it up. Everything feels like a ten year old boy smashing his action figures together and you can’t help but get swept up in the enthusiasm.

Helped by the absolutely (excuse the pun) FIRE soundtrack. The energy almost never lets up, and on-the-nose engrish lyrics just add to the experience. Even if you don’t watch the movie holy heck listen to the soundtrack.

The characters may be paper-thing but holy hell are they fun to watch. Our protagonist, Galo, himbo extraordinaire is as ridiculous as he is somehow charming. You can’t help but admire his drive to help people. And his foil, the ironically icy Lio, here to set fires and fight for his rights. Aina, a nice, spunky girl set up as a love interest for about five minutes before it turns out her character has more of a story based around her relationship with her sister. Which is a nice change! In fact the only romance in the story arguably involves CPR for plausible deniability. And our hero remembers to open the airway thank heck. Though whether intentional or just ship tease who knows? And who cares. You can guess who the villain is about ten seconds after he shows up and he is as much a blast to watch as the rest.

And really, this is a movie with a secret robot used to save the day called the Deus X Machina. A movie that ends with two shirtless guys setting the Earth on fire to stop the Earth from being set on fire. It doesn’t take itself too seriously and really neither should you. Let it sweep you away for almost two hours and you will feel much better afterwards.

I started reading Nimona around the time it was wrapping up as a webcomic. I have a copy of the graphic novel on my shelf. I was excited when I heard the movie had been greenlit (less so when I heard it was Blue Sky Studios), disappointed by the cancellation and, well, I’m happy it’s here now. While I’ve gotten grouchier over the years, it does make me smile to see these guys on my television, even if they’re not quite the same people either.

Because the movie is very different, and yet much of it feels similar as well. Certain scenes, like the board game, are almost directly from the comic, others are from the comic but not quite the same. The characters are different, Ballister is less jaded, Ambrosius less delusional and Nimona less, well, monstrous. She seems to more beat the snot out of people than commit mass murder. In the comic she’s every bit the monster people fear her to be, though a sympathetic one, and perhaps one who will heal someday. While the ending of the movie is far happier, it fits the new tone. And honestly? I need to stop making comparisons and judge the damn movie on its own merits. Of which it has many!

Our setup is fairly simple, Ballister BlackBoldheart is a new knight of the realm, who immediately gets framed for the murder of the queen and disarmed (heh) by his boyfriend Ambrosius Goldenloin, while on the lam he is approached by a shapeshifter called Nimona who is up for a little mayhem and hijinks. Together they try and clear his name.

My fist fear when I heard Blue Sky studios would be the ones releasing the movie was that a lot of the humour would be Quite Bad. And while there definitely is plenty of that, I think more gags hit than miss. Hell the movie got quite a few laughs out of my dad and he’s a fair bit less likely to chuckle than I am. It is quite a funny movie, which is good because it helps the harsher moments hit harder. Because there are also plenty of those, especially in the final act.

Speaking of, the film is somewhat surprisingly well paced. Scenes tend not to overstay their welcome and the movie flows well. What else flows well? The animation! (My segways not so much) Everything is very smooth, which is rather necessary for all the shapeshifting, and there’s quite an interesting scene made to look as if subway tiles are telling the story of Nimona’s origins (ish).

And the main trio really are quite fun to watch. Ballister, always the underdog, now a public enemy and trying to both clear his name and perhaps open his mind a bit. Ambrosius, golden boy, trying to do the right thing and not always doing a great job. And, of course, Nimona, who’s just here to break shit, though it is quickly clear there’s more underneath, also a pretty blatant trans allegory.

The relationships Ballister has with both the other two are sweet as heck, but also riddled with mistrust that they all have to work to overcome.

And while the movie does get a little preachy at times, it’s a kid’s movie. What do you expect? Rah rah fight the power, all that jazz. I may be too jaded for it but it certainly works.

—

Would recommend checking out both or either if they sound like something you’d enjoy!

#Promare #Nimona #I should polish this up more but ehhhhh #Quick thoughts I guess

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halloweenhoneylover · 2 years

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slow going

summary: things have been weird between reader and steve and they’re trying to figure out how to not be weird (steve harrington x fem!reader)

word count: 10.2k (holy shit)

warnings: fluff, angst, smut (fingering, fem receiving oral, penetrative sex) (don’t read if you’re under 18!!!!!)

author’s note: still trying to get a handle on steve’s character, but i’m too obsessed w him to not write anything. i apologize in advance for the excessive use of run-on sentences and polysyndeton, but i don’t apologize for establishing steve as the king of consent. also first time writing smut pls be nice!!!!

if you’d like you can read the prequel to this, here

The tinkling of chimes alerted Steve to the presence of a new patron in Family Video. It had been a long evening of little action, no hordes of teenage boys wreaking havoc or families perusing for weekly movie nights. Likely it was due to the massive storm that had rolled in, rain pouring down in sheets and thunder that seemed to shake the foundations. June rain always came heavy like Genesis and rebirth in Hawkins. But the town was unfortunately unable to boast of the most state of the art infrastructure, and driving on those roads in this kind of weather was a perilous task that few braved. Steve was not excited to drive home at the end of his shift in an hour if this kind of weather persisted, but he didn’t mind the lack of customers; it offered some peace and quiet to log rentals and categorize incoming tapes.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention away from the computer, ready to launch into his corporate-mandated greeting, but the words died in his throat at the sight of a long-time friend and short-term stranger dripping on the store’s welcome mat.

“[Y/N],” he murmurs gently, unsure of how to acknowledge your unexpected appearance.

“Hi, Steve.” A small smile rests on your lips, feeling coy and unfamiliar under his gaze. A relatively new feeling with Steve.

Determined to disperse the tension that had solidified almost instantaneously, he shakes his head and forces congeniality. “Dude, you’re soaking. Did you walk here?”

Still recovering from the sight of him, you stammer slightly, “Uh, no. I—uh, I biked.”

“You biked?”

As if only just realizing you were totally wet to the bone, you look down at your jacket sleeves sheepishly. “Yeah, I thought the storm was dying down.” You meet his gaze again. “It wasn’t.”

Steve can’t help himself when he barks out a laugh. Faced with the ridiculousness of the situation, you can’t help yourself when you join him, giggles pouring out of you. And for a moment, you both forget that things have been really weird between the two of you and that neither of you know how to act around each other now, and you laugh for a moment, and it’s like old times. It’s like you never confessed your feelings, and it’s like he never left you on that curb alone. But memories of that chilly night in March seep back in, and the laughter dies. Things aren’t right between you, but it’s a little warmer than before.

“Well, is there anything I can help you with this fine evening?” Steve’s eyes are friendly, but his mind races with questions of why you came in tonight, and his veins are flooded with nostalgia and something else that he can’t really put finger on, but it feels eerily like regret.

“Maybe. Do you guys have Alien?”

The look he gives you is withering. “With the amount of times you’ve rented this movie, you probably could’ve bought it five times over.”

A mischievous grin paints your features. “Yeah, but there’s something fun about watching you get mad at the money I’ve wasted every time I rent it.”

He rolls his eyes at that and hops over the counter to steer you to the sci-fi section. Sure, you know where it is, you’ve been here countless times, but he has to do his due diligence as an upstanding employee of Family Video, right? “I’m not mad, I just know you’re smart, and it’s a shame to see you neglect those brain cells every time you do something stupid like rent your favorite movie instead of buy it.”

He pulls the familiar VHS case from the shelf and hands it to you, but you’re grinning up at him, and he feels something inside him shudder pleasantly. He chalks it up to the two and a half months he went without seeing you. And the thought of those months clouds his mind, and he clears his throat, curiosity getting the better of him.

“How have you gone almost three months without seeing this movie? Did you betray the Family Video name and rent it from the library?”

The way he says it, it sounds like a joke, but the fact that he had acknowledged your friendship hiatus dampens your mood greatly, and something like shame shines in your eyes. “No, I could never betray FV, heh. Just—uh—Ben didn’t really like sci-fi.”

Deep down, Steve feels his ribs crack and his stomach drop at the mention of Ben, your new boyfriend. Robin had let it slip sometime mid-April that you were seeing someone, and while he played it off very cool and unaffected, Steve had felt abandoned. Something he hadn’t expected to feel and definitely wasn’t allowed to feel when he had abandoned you first. He had known Ben in high school; they were on the swim team together. He was a sweet enough guy and maybe good-looking, but Steve never paid enough attention to much outside of himself to notice, but he sure was paying attention now.

“Ben didn’t like sci-fi,” he echoes faintly.

You swallow harshly, uncomfortable. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t want to like, push my interests onto him, or something like that.” You spout an awkward laugh to cover the weird moment of unanticipated vulnerability, but Steve’s eyes only soften with a glint of something you perceive as pity which you hate. “But um, we kinda broke things off, so….”

Steve’s eyebrows raise and his eyes search yours. “Oh. Uh, I’m—I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you muster weakly.

He clears his throat again before ducking around you back to the desk. “Let’s get you checked out then.”

It’s silent as he clicks away at the computer, and the quiet is unbearable. Your hands clutch the counter, and you look anywhere in the store but Steve. He sneaks a glance at you. You seem to be glowing in the orange neon light of the FV sign behind him, skin shiny with rainwater, and he’s always known you were pretty, but there’s something about seeing you for the first time in months, and it churns in his gut. He hits a button before handing you the tape.

“How much do I owe you?”

He swipes his hand noncommittally and shakes his head. “Nothing. This one’s on me.”

“Steve—”

“No, no, I insist.” He looks at you with sincerity and a terribly remorseful smile, and it silences you instantly. You wonder why he looks sorry.

“Okay.” It’s a near whisper.

Despite some tether to Steve that urges you to stay, to muddle through whatever weirdness resides between you, you start towards the door with a wave.

“Oh shit,” he says in a way that is too loud for all of the moments that preceded it. “It’s still pouring, and you biked. Do you want a ride?”

You hesitate a moment. “What time does your shift end?”

He glances at the clock on the wall before waving it off. “I’m supposed to get off at 10, but this place is a ghost town. Nobody came in hours before you, and I highly doubt anyone is gonna come by later in this shitstorm.”

You shift a little, your clothes waterlogged and heavy on your body. “I don’t want you to get in trouble….”

He scoffs, “There’s no way Keith’ll find out, unless you tell him.” And then he looks at you very seriously, but you can see the joke simmering behind the umber of his eyes. “[Y/N/N], are you gonna snitch on me?”

It’s your turn to scoff.

“See, there you go. I’ll be fine! Let me just grab my keys, and we can head out.”

He heads into a backroom, and you wait, clutching Alien close to your chest. Excitement bubbles in your chest, and then a weird discomfort leaks in when you become aware of the excitement. Excited for proximity, excited for closeness with Steve. I’m excited to see Steve because he is a dear friend who I have not seen in a long time, and I have missed him as a friend.

While cementing your new mantra, Steve bursts from the back with his keys dangling from his pointer finger and a vigor that you don’t quite understand. On the wall behind the desk, he flicks a switch and the illuminated Pretty in Pink poster on the wall and the neon Family Video lettering go dark. He jogs towards the door, opening it and gesturing you out politely, and you helplessly watch his mania, slightly confused but mostly entertained. “M’lady,” he sing-songs with the cheekiest grin.

Your face morphs into one of bemused disgust, and you stare at him as you walk out of the store. “You’ve been hanging out with Robin and Dustin too much.”

He shrugs casually. “They’re pretty much all I have now that—” he stops himself and grimaces with the knowledge of his slip-up. He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know that it ends with now that we don’t hang out.

Guilt echoes in the cavity of your chest painfully, but you don’t really want to go back to painful silence, so you say, “They’re good company, though.” You smile at him, and he smiles back, but neither of you really feel it.

And maybe because you’re a masochist, you continue with a forced light tone, “You used to be on dates all the time. Is the female population of Hawkins not also good company still?”

He looks out to where the rain is still heaving with an unreadable expression. “I don’t—I don’t really go on many dates anymore.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Just got tired of it. None of them….” Steve tries to think of something to say that won’t give him away entirely because he can’t say none of them were you. That wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to you, who had laid your heavily guarded heart on full display for him on that crumbling asphalt, an offer that he had wrapped up nicely and handed right back. “None of them were right for me, I guess.”

You nod solemnly. “I hope you find your right one, Stevie.”

He looks down at you with a wounded expression and wide eyes, and you cannot understand why he looks like that, but you persist anyway. “I really do.”

The silence that follows is filled with mourning. Mourning for missed opportunities and the fickleness of chance. The air is thick, and neither can bring themselves to break it.

So, Steve nods, and with a gentle hand on your elbow, he ushers you to his car. You both scramble to find refuge from the rain, fumbling with the door handles, and by the time you’re sitting in the front seat, you’re both panting with the frantic effort.

“We can get your bike tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He starts the car, and you expect him to pull away into the night, but instead, he sits with the engine running, staring straight ahead. Your brows knit with concern “Steve? Are you o—”

“Did you ever think Ben was your right one?”

The question shocks you into laughter, which has him frowning in confusion. “I don’t know.” You ponder for a moment. “I really don’t know! It was only a couple months, I don’t think you’re supposed to know after that long. He was cute and smart. He thought I was pretty, maybe.” The insecurity tacked on the end makes something in him buckle, wondering how someone could not be completely and utterly convinced that you are one of the prettiest people alive. “I don’t know. He was nice to me.” Your voice is feeble, and Steve can’t help the shame that floods his brain, thinking of the time that he most definitely wasn’t nice to you. And while he feels completely incapacitated, he nods slowly and puts the car in reverse.

He stretches a hand behind your headrest to see out the back as he reverses, but his closeness makes you ache as you stare up the length of his strong arm to his handsome face concentrated on driving. He takes his hand back to set the lever to drive, and you want to grab it, keep it close, set it on your thigh, your waist, your cheek, anything, but you remain still.

You drive in silence for a minute or two, listening to the rain and the beat of the windshield wipers before Steve summons the courage from somewhere he can’t understand and says, “Do you want to come over?”

It’s the second time tonight that he’s really shocked you, and he registers your shock before backpedaling. “You don’t have to, it’s just I live closer than you do, and I have some dry clothes you could borrow.” He grips the steering wheel for support before continuing. “And we haven’t seen each other in a while. I thought it’d be nice.” His breath is short, feels like he’s working really hard to reclaim everything that belongs in his lungs. “Plus, we could watch your movie. Sigourney Weaver’s hot.” He’s about to cringe, and then you laugh, and he wishes that was his only job, to make you laugh.

“Yeah, she is,” you murmur pensively. Steve can see you thinking, and his chest feels like it’s about to burst with the desperate hope flowering inside. You offer him another small smile before it widens graciously, and you nod your head.

“Yeah, that sounds fun.”

—

The sound of your footsteps upstairs jolts Steve with pangs of familiarity. He’s sitting on his kitchen counter, losing his mind, because it’s been a long while since you’ve been in his house, and he wants to make sure that you’ll come back sooner rather than later. Next to his head, the microwave hums and casts a honey-colored light on his face as the kernels inside it begin to burst. And before he knows it, it’s beeping, and your socked feet are padding down the stairs.

Grabbing a bowl, he pours the popcorn in and turns his head to see you lean against the doorframe. Your still damp hair has been pushed out of your eyes, and you’re wearing an old Hawkins High basketball sweatshirt of his and a pair of shorts he’d long forgotten about. You look clean and somewhat revived after shedding your previous outfit, and he feels like you fit here, smiling and gentle, wearing his clothes.

“Thanks for letting me change.”

“Of course, you were starting to look like a drowned cat.”

You chuckle again, and he has to tamp down the soaring of his heart at the sound.

“I was starting to feel like one too.”

You cast a few glances around the room, the home still so familiar but seeming somehow different this time around. Wordlessly, Steve grabs the bowl of popcorn and jerks his head towards the door to the basement, signaling you to go ahead. You snag the rented VHS from the counter, push open the door, and start trundling down the stairs. “How many times do you think this’ll be for you?” you call up after him.

“What do you mean?” He rounds the couch, setting down the popcorn and instinctively catching the VHS you toss his way.

Settling into the well-worn leather of the couch’s corner, you rest your legs on an ottoman pushed up against the couch. “How many times do you think you’ll have seen this movie now?”

He’s kneeling to put in the tape as he shakes his head with a tender smile and answers, “Hard to say. You made me watch this at least once a month for a year and half, but I’m bad at math, so I don’t know how many that is.” He doesn’t realize his teasing lands sourly, and when he turns to look at you again, you’ve crossed your arms defensively and retreated further into the couch with a sullen, thoughtful look. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. You didn’t make me; I really like Alien. You know, hot Sigourney Weaver.” He tries his joke again, but it doesn’t elicit the same reaction the second time around. You’re worrying your lip between your teeth, and he wishes you would stop because you have a bad habit of biting until you bleed.

Finally, you look up at him with big sorrowful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Confused, Steve collapses onto the couch next to you, and his eyes search yours, all wide and shiny. “For what?”

Before he’s done looking, your eyes shift away, and he feels a little hollow without you looking at him. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “Being a bad friend, I guess. Forcing you to like all the stuff I like, being overbearing.” A beat. “We’re not very alike, are we?”

When your eyes meet his again, there are tears pooling at your waterline, and he feels his chest imploding at the sight, wishing with all his might for you to stop crying, especially when you did nothing wrong. “No, we’re not, but that doesn’t really matter. That’s what friends do: they watch their movies and listen to their music and go to their basketball games. I like things because you like them, and you’re my friend. It’s not overbearing, it’s love, ya know, it’s contagious.”

He’s seen the face you’re wearing before: all vast and exposed and defenseless, every emotion swimming plainly beneath your lashes, and your jaw tilting up like you want to be kissed, and you’re watching him like your life depends on it. He saw it on that night in March when he denied you, and now he thinks that he could never deny you anything if he tried, wonders how he ever denied you before. Slowly, he presses forward, gingerly nudging his nose into yours, silently asking permission. You close your eyes, and your lips part ever so slightly, so he closes the distance and kisses you.

It’s a homecoming with fluttering confetti. He moves slowly, the world suspended, and he brings a hand to your jaw, sturdy and lithe underneath his fingertips. He only realizes it’s all he’s ever wanted until it’s happening and he never wants it to stop. And with this realization, he deepens the kiss and pushes into your mouth gently like he wants to consume you because he does. The desperation on his tongue is evident, and a giddy moan rumbles in your chest, a sound he eagerly swallows. The hand on your cheek skims down the skin of your neck, the fall of your shoulder, and finds its home on the curve of your waist. Steve’s above you, holding you, and it’s a dream come true, so when he pulls himself away, gazing down at you with soft, dark eyes, to whisper are you sure?, your answer is a wheezing please.

Something feral inhabits him with the desperation in your voice, and he’s licking at your jaw, mouthing at your pulsepoint until that something overcomes him, and he bites your neck, a heady groan erupting viciously from your throat. He’s got an elbow propped by your head to give himself leverage, and his other hand is roaming, squeezing, gripping your hip like he’s afraid this is his last chance to touch you and he has to know what every soft part of you feels like.

“Steve.” Your voice falters under the weight of your desire.

“Steve.” It’s not a question or a command, just another way of confirming that the man over you is real and is touching you like he wants you.

His one hand finds the edge of your sweatshirt, and he breaks away once again to look you in the eye. “Can I?”

You nod dumbly, and he sits up, allowing both of his hands to find the hem and tug it over you. It’s mostly a successful venture until something gets caught, and everything is out but your head. Muffled slightly comes, “Steve, wait, I’m stuck.” It slightly clears the haze of lust that permeated the basement, and Steve can’t help but laugh. “Nooo, don’t laugh,” you chide but the unmistakable beginnings of a giggle fray the edges of your seriousness. “Steve, help me!” Peals of laughter collect like shiny curls of ribbon while he finally pulls the sweatshirt over your head, and you both remember that you are friends, good ones at that, who like each other and make each other laugh, and it’s perfectly happy.

It takes a minute for insecurity to catch up to you in this state, but it’s perennially punctual, and while you’re still smiling, you cross your arms. “Don’t do that, let me look at you.” Your hopes of hiding are dashed as Steve tenderly wrests your arms apart, and he looks at you like you’re beautiful, and with the appraising look in his eyes, you finally feel it. He stares at your body for a long time, longer than you ever thought someone would want to look, and he traces a single finger down the skin above your rib cage. “You really are something else,” he murmurs.

You can’t help but press, “In a good way?”

He smiles wide at that. “In the best way.”

He takes both hands to your face, leaning down to kiss you because he can’t not kiss you anymore. His hands make their way to your waist again, and you don’t feel bad about it. His fingertips press into your skin and press up your body until they meet the elastic of your bra. When his eyes meet yours this time, he doesn’t have to ask, and you’re nodding vehemently. Arching your back to grant him access, he slips a single hand to the clasp, which he undoes expertly. He leans back to take the bra with him, but you hold it to your chest.

Searching your eyes for insecurity, he only finds prickly, teasing suspicion.

“You’re kind of a pro at that. One-handed.”

It’s his turn to be sheepish, and he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Have you gotten a lot of practice with that? Take all your girls down here and impress them with that move?”

Leaning back on his heels on the ottoman, he grins down at you all laid out and cheeky, having finally claimed the upper hand. “So it was impressive?”

You shrug coyly, but the way your lips curl is anything but. “Maybe! Who’s to say? Really it lets me know that you, Steve Harrington, are a total womanizer.” He looks to the side away from you with a smile and a blush that is unfamiliar to you, and it makes your heart squeeze. “I’m willing to let it slide…for a price.”

His eyebrows lift incredulously, and he shifts his gaze back to you. “How steep are we talking?”

You pretend to contemplate it very seriously with a pensive finger tapping your lips in thought before you gasp theatrically. “I think you need to take your shirt off.”

His laughter spills out, your giggles accompanying soon after. He shrugs with the biggest, most smug grin on his lips and grabs the hem of his sweater. “Well if fair is fair….” And it’s over his head in a second, revealing his broad, tanned chest, and you don’t mean to, but you heave a quick intake of breath because while you’ve seen this before at his pool, at the lake, you’ve never seen it in this context. A context where you’re allowed to touch.

So you do. Mirroring his earlier touches, you reach out and trail a couple fingers down his hard stomach, fingertips tracing down and brushing the happy little trail of hair that collects at the bottom. He watches you fondly, granting you this moment of appreciation after being allowed it himself. “Stevie,” you whisper. “You’re so pretty.”

“I’m pretty?” His smile cannot be contained. You’ve got the moon in your eyes, and he can’t really believe it’s there while you’re looking at him.

“Yeah.”

“I’d argue you’re prettier.”

“It’s not a competition.”

He chuckles again at that, taking your hand feather-soft in both of his and bringing it up to his face. He delicately places kisses on each fingertip and on your palm before curling your fingers in and pressing your closed hand against his face.

It burns the tip of his tongue, churns in his stomach. I love you.

But he doesn’t say it. He can’t explain why, but he doesn’t. Though he thinks that if you’re any good at reading him (which you are), you would be able to see it written plainly across his face, see it in the way he looks at you.

And maybe you do see it because you gently pull your hand away and grab the straps of your bra resting loosely on your chest. You’ve always been made up of walls and defensiveness and toughness, protecting a soft, pink inside. All heady eye contact and heavy breath, you slowly pull the garment away from your chest, and Steve thinks it’s a metaphor. Then, he can’t believe he’s thinking about metaphors and English class while the girl of his dreams is taking off her bra in front of him, but nonetheless, to him it’s a metaphor for crumbling walls and vulnerability because he can see it in your eyes. You look scared. Like at any moment he might decide he doesn’t want you anymore, and he’ll leave you soft and pink and bleeding. Guilt curdles in his stomach because he knows he’s done that before, but he vows to make you know that he’ll never do it again.

So, he reaches out, his arms strong and sure, and he runs his hands down your sides to hold your hips firmly and lets his gaze run wild over the soft expanse of you. He lets you steal his breath as he holds you down and looks at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and his head shaking when he whispers, “You’re not real.”

Your eyebrows pinch in silent questioning.

“You’re not real,” he repeats. “There’s no way. You can’t be real. This has to be a dream. You are a dream.”

“Steve,” you chide, but the smile pulling at your lips is unmistakable as your insides twist and curl joyously. “You’re being cheesy.”

“No, I’m not, [Y/N/N]. I’m just telling the truth.” He starts to grin because you’re laughing again. “I’ve got to be sleeping because there’s no way you look like this, and you’re letting me touch you.”

“Steve!” Your admonishment falls flat under the peals of your laughter.

“I’m being serious!”

“Okay, weirdo.”

Holding your waist, Steve leans forward to lay wet kisses on your collarbone. “I’m a serious guy.”

You run a hand over his head to hold his neck fondly. “I know you are. Super serious guy.”

The teasing subsides as his mouth laves lower on your chest, from the hollow of your neck to your sternum to the gentle curve of your breast. He can feel the rise and fall of your ribs as your breath gets deeper, shakier. His lips are soft until his teeth are not, and you cry out. “Sorry, baby.” If you weren’t breathless before, you definitely were now after the pet name, and he continues his kisses with smug lips. He switches sides, kissing and licking and sucking, and once he starts using his teeth again, you know there will be purplish spots to look forward to.

His hands with minds of their own have found purchase on your hips, mindlessly fingering the hem of your shorts. It tickles a little, but you are somewhat preoccupied with his mouth’s business that you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, but it doesn’t stop you from squirming slightly. One finger boldly slips over the short’s elastic, and he glances up at you from under his weirdly luscious boyish eyelashes. “May I?”

A breathless laugh. “What manners you have.”

His eyes remained trained on yours, waiting, your answer not sufficing, and the seriousness in his eyes almost sucks the levity from the room. You want to spend hours considering his thoughtfulness, his care, but you don’t have hours, so you nod and whisper, “Yes. Steve, please.”

He’s kissing you again, and his hand is making its way down your shorts. When a solitary finger runs the damp gusset of your underwear, you rasp in a gust of air. He chases your lips for a chaste peck. “Are you still wet from the rain, or are you just happy to see me?” He breathes a laugh into your mouth which opens into a brilliant giggle.

You don’t have the time to come up with a witty response before he’s rubbing that finger along you again. There’s nothing precise about it, but the pressure alone is enough to leave you panting. Steve, thoughtful as ever, kisses your neck again, leaving your mouth free to choke down air. By the time his hand is moving again, the cotton of your underwear is nearly soaked. He snaps the elastic of your underwear against your stomach, eliciting a pitchy whine he’s never heard before but would like to hear again. His fingers slide underneath the waistband, and you’re completely mindless with his hand against the real thing. He cups your mound, just holding you for a minute, and you think it’s comforting until you feel something down there gush, and you’re mortified by the wet that must have doused his fingers. Steve notices you shift uncomfortably, so he looks up to your face where your embarrassment is written plain in the heat of your cheeks. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, in fact it’s extremely hot, so Steve pulls his hand from your shorts and pins you down with his gaze while he brings his shiny fingers to his lips and sucks two in his mouth. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but your jaw drops, and you gawk, still holding eye contact. He pulls his fingers out with a soft pop.

“You taste good.”

The whiny moan you let out sounds like something from those movies in the back of Family Video, and Steve can’t help but smile to himself as he slots his hands down your shorts again. He slips his middle finger into your folds where the slick hasn’t stopped accumulating, and he gently runs it from clit to opening where he teases slightly. Any semblance of control over the noises you’re making has been lost, and you’re glad, for once, that his parents are never home. He expertly collects some of the wet to grease little circles on your swollen clit, and his mouth is on your chest again, his tongue about as wet as your pussy. You’re not sure it can get any better until his middle finger slides down to your entrance and his thumb finds home on your clit. The pad of his thumb is moving up and down while his middle finger carefully pushes into you. He curls his finger inside you, and you never knew Steve was so dexterous, but you’d never be caught complaining now. His touch is gentle but purposeful, knowing exactly where to stroke to find the soft spot inside that drives you wild. When he feels your cunt is no longer gripping his finger so tightly, blooming with arousal, he presses a second finger in, a move that has you keening into a throw pillow on the couch.

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, jaw tight. He notices this and brings his unoccupied hand to tenderly tuck stray strands of hair behind your ears. He then cups your cheek, his thumb swiping fondly over hot skin. His fingers are still moving, but he’s whispering now, “It��s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Maybe it’s the heat he’s stirring up in your lower half, or maybe it’s the plain affection in his tone, but tears spring to your eyes.

“Steve, please.” It’s a plaintive susurration, and he knows what you need, pressing his lips to yours. It starts soft and reassuring but turns into a devouring. Your hungry lips seem to be the only thing capable of expressing the ache in your chest.

You would have been content to stay there forever, but the heat in your gut is becoming increasingly hard to ignore, and after a particularly strong stroke of his thumb against your clit, you’re crying out again, more urgently this time.

“Pretty girl,” he says against your open mouth, noses pressing into each other. “You can let go, I’ve got you.” His fingers continue their ministrations until a deep gasp, and he knows you’re there. Your breath is hot on his face, your moans hotter, and he smiles to himself, not smug but sentimental as all hell. He works you through it because he’s a gentleman and because he needs a moment to recover himself after becoming conscious of the slick of your cum collecting in his hand.

Your eyes are closed with a blissful smile pinching your cheeks when you have finally revived enough to speak. “I’d heard you were good, Harrington, but I didn’t know you were that good.”

“Was always getting ready for you.” It’s partially a joke, and it’s partially not.

Luckily, you only hear the joke and laugh, so he doesn’t have to confront the very real part of him that becomes aware of the not-joke’s implications. He can’t really think about that right now, so instead, he carefully retrieves his hand from between your thighs, wipes it clean on his jeans, and places long strokes up and down your bare arm as your breath finally settles.

When you open your eyes, Steve is carefully tracing your body with his gaze, his shoulder and chest pressed up against your side, but he grins when he sees you looking at him. “Do you wanna keep going?”

Nerves dance lightly in your chest, but they’re good nerves, so you nod with a matching twist of your lips.

His eyebrows raise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, hold on.” He removes himself from your side, and the loss is devastating. You weren’t really aware of how much heat he was generating against you until he was gone. Grabbing a nearby pillow, you hold it to your chest to maintain a decency that doesn’t really matter anymore and twist to see over the back of the couch where Steve has gone to a closet that you had previously known as VHS tape storage. He stretches up to the top shelf, and you no longer try to dampen the warmth in your stomach at the sight of his freckled back rippling with muscles. He gets down a box and pulls out a condom, and you scoff in disbelief. “You’re telling me the VHS closet has doubled as the condom closet this whole time?”

He shrugs. “You can’t reach the top shelf.”

“Oh my god.” But your incredulity has dissolved into laughter once again, and his grin is absolutely shit-eating as he replaces the box on the shelf and rounds the couch. He stands, inspecting you sprawled on the couch and ottoman.

“Yeah, this won’t do. Hold on.”

You yelp as he grabs you by the knees and reorient you so you’re laying on the couch length-wise. He seems pleased to manhandle you and to see how breathless you are after doing so. “Much better.”

He crawls onto the couch, and you heave your legs apart so he can settle in between them on his knees. “Eager much?” he quips lightheartedly, but he can see the flash of self-doubt in your eyes, the fear that maybe you were doing too much, wanting too much. He places a hand on your calf and skims up and down. “No, me too.” He swallows funny before venturing into touchy-feely. “I don’t think you know how much I’ve wanted this.” There’s a whisper of confusion on your face that disperses as fast as it came, and you smile softly.

He notices the pillow still covering your chest and reaches to tug the corner. “Can I have this?”

You let go of the pillow, and you feel bare, the cold of the basement no longer mitigated by Steve’s proximate warmth, causing your nipples to harden. His gaze is openly obsessive, ravenous and the pillow in his hand forgotten. “I don’t think this view will ever get old.”

“You’re gonna catch flies.”

He whips back into shape with your teasing and remembers the pillow. Sticking the condom in his pocket to free up a hand, he sneaks the hand under your hips. “Lift.” You do as he says, and he slides the pillow under you, canting your hips up to him. His hands attach to your waist and slide to your hips, once again fiddling with the waistband of your shorts. With furrowed brows, he glances over the shorts (his shorts) and looks up at you with concern. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but the lending period on these bad boys has elapsed.”

With a roll of your eyes, you stare back unamused. “Steve, I know you are not using a Family Video script as dirty talk right now.”

Despite your protests, he persists with the bit. “I really am sorry, ma’am, but with your permission, I need to take these back.”

“Okay, yeah fine alright.” You sigh and let your head loll to the side.

“Alright?” he asks, a shade more serious.

You meet his eyes and nod. “Alright.”

“Alright!” And with renewed enthusiasm, he tugs the shorts over your hips and down your legs, tossing them to the side. “And because I believe in equality,” he says while standing. “I’ll also do you the honors.” Proud as ever, Steve slides his pants down his legs, leaving him in boxers. Chuckling, you clap lightly and give a little whoop! He bows like a dork.

He starts toward you but quickly stops, mumbling an oh shit as he drops to the ground and searches his jeans’ pockets. Triumphantly, he pulls out the condom he nearly forgot, and you snort. “My hero.”

He comes back and settles between your legs on his knees again, setting the condom on the nearby ottoman. His attention zeroes in on your underwear, and his fingers are greedy, petting down your lower stomach and finding the waistband. He sees how shiny the inside of your thighs are and how soaked the fabric is, and his suave persona falters, baser instincts making something in his stomach tighten. “We really made a mess down here, didn’t we?” You flush and let out a nervous giggle. His gaze tracks to your eyes, asking the silent question. You nod.

He pulls the cotton down your legs slowly, reverence in his gaze, in his hands. A shuddering breath from both of you. Once free of your legs, your underwear is tossed aside. You’re not really sure what’s going to happen next, but he picks up your leg, lifting it to his lips. Locking eyes with you, he presses chaste kisses to your ankle, up your calf. He sets your foot down, knee bent a little, and stretches out, laying down on the rest of the couch. He continues his line of kisses, brushing his lips against the inside of your knee tenderly, and it makes you shiver. Your chest is heaving with heavy breaths, your fingers gripping the leather of the couch. Giving your other leg its proper due, he laves wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where you want him most. He’s nearly there when he decides to nip the soft skin of your thigh, his teeth sharp but his tongue soothing. He noses against the plush of your skin affectionately, and something about it makes you want to cry. Then he’s where you need him, and instead of touching you, he’s breathing in deep through his nose. He’s smelling you, and you want to cry for a very different reason.

“Steve, please.” Begging sounds unfamiliar on your tongue, but he doesn’t mind it one bit. He hoists your legs over his broad shoulders, one hand wrapped around the expanse of your thigh and the other holding your hip in place. He purses his lips and blows a quick burst of cold air to your wet center that has you whining before licking into the velvet of your sopping folds. His kisses are ravenous, starved. He knows how to eat pussy with skill and dexterity, but at the moment, he’s more concerned with getting his mouth on as much of you as possible, and you don’t seem to mind, mewling helplessly. After a long stripe up the length of you, something in you cracks, and your fingers twist in his hair to hold yourself together, and lightheaded, he thinks that he would never leave his place between your thighs if you gave him the opportunity.

Finally satisfied that he’s tasted as much of you as possible, his movements become more specific, sucking your clit in between kitten licks, and it seems like you like it because your cunt is weeping, slick pouring out of you and onto his face. You tug on his hair, and it’s his turn to moan voraciously.

“Stevie, baby—” If you were going to say anything else, the words are lost as a groan rips from your chest, Steve diving back into you with a hunger he’s not sure will ever be sated. He’s licking into you, and your stomach is jumping with the pure pleasure, your blood boiling. When he comes back to your clit, kissing gently, it happens all at once, unexpected, and you’re gushing again. Thighs closing around his head, Steve laps at the wetness flowing out of you, taking until there’s nothing left to give. He’s too much, and you’re too sensitive, and you’re crying out, but he doesn’t relent until the heel of your hand presses against his forehead, pushing him away.

You’re out of breath but manage to quip, “Eager much?”

He huffs out a laugh, leaning his head against your thigh and slick gleaming on his face. You sit like that for a minute, letting your breathing slow and him nestling into the warmth of your legs. When he checks in on you, your eyes are closed and your breathing deep but an ever present smile on your lips. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

You chuckle. “Stevie, we didn’t come this far to stop now.”

“But we can, though.” His brow furrows, and he looks at you seriously. “We can stop whenever you want.”

You can’t help but smile at his concern, and you grapple for his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his. “Thank you, Stevie. But if you’re down, I would absolutely love to have sex with you right now.”

He grins. “Yeah, alright.”

Reluctantly pushing himself out from between your legs, he moves to a sitting position, lifting his hips to take off his boxers. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch him with a goofy grin, stupidly excited just to have fun and feel good with him. He slips his underwear off, his cock springing up and leaking precum.

“Woah.”

He grabs the condom from the ottoman. “What?”

“Just—confronted by the man, the myth, the legend.”

He swats weakly at your leg with the back of his hand. “Shut up.”

He rips the condom open, rolling it on with practiced ease. “What! You’ve been the talk of the town for a while, King Steve, and I just gotta say you’re living up to your reputation.”

Rolling his eyes, he shifts back onto his knees on the couch, but when he looks at you, he can tell your disguising your nerves with teasing. He softens, running a hand down your leg. “We’ll go slow.” You meet his gaze and smile gratefully.

Shuffling up close to you, he leans over you to kiss you. It’s gentle and says everything he can never say to you out loud. Your hands lift to his jaw, holding him to you, not letting him break away, but he’d never leave if you wanted him to stay. You pull away for a moment, foreheads still pressed together. “I’m ready if you’re ready,” you whisper.

He nods with a smile, running a hand over your head to land on your neck while placing a peck on your hairline. The small dose of affection has your heart racing and butterflies stirring in your stomach ruthlessly, and you lay back, giddy. He sits back on his knees and takes a second to let the immensity of this moment weigh on his shoulders, on his heart. You’re otherworldly laying soft and pliant, hips tilted up, presented to him. One hand grabs your hip, thumb massaging into the fullness of flesh there, and the other takes your knee and hikes against his hip, palm skimming down the abundance of your thigh. His grip on you is tight as if the tighter he holds, the more real this moment is, the longer he can hold onto it, and when you’re looking up at him like he hung all the stars in the sky, it knocks the wind right out of him. “You’ve got to be a real life angel, [Y/N/N].” His words make your eyebrows pinch, and you’ve lost count of the amount of times tears have sprung to your eyes this evening.

He keeps a steadying hand on your hip but takes the other to hold himself while he lines himself up with your entrance. One last glance up to you for a silent nod of permission, and he begins to press into you. It’s ever so slow, but he’s girthy, so you’re already letting your head loll while moans pour out of you thick and unhurried like hot syrup. Steve’s wrangling his own feelings at how tight and wet you are, and he has to get himself together so he doesn’t blow before the real thing has even started. He’s only a few inches in when he hears a hiss of pain and an ouch! His stomach lurches with guilt and worry, and he stops moving immediately and looks to where your face is scrunched up. “Are you okay?”

You nod vehemently, eyes still squeezed shut. “Yeah, I just—ah—I’ve never done this before with someone so….”

“Yeah, I know.” His hands are back at your hips, thumbs working the muscles there to relax you and ease any discomfort.

“You know?” you chuckle breathlessly. “That’s a little presumptuous of you.”

“Sorry, baby.”

“S’okay, Stevie baby.” The pet name is said jokingly, but his heart squeezes, so he squeezes your hips. He laughs, full of mirth, and it makes you laugh too, and he can feel you start to relax, the tension in your body dissipating.

“Do you wanna stop?”

“No, I think I’m good, you can keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

The slide in is easier now, and you’re tight now only because you’re clenching in pleasure. “Ohhh,” and it’s like you’ve only just realized that this actually feels really good. A second more and Steve is fully sheathed in you, and you’re both groaning relentlessly. He doesn’t move, letting you get acclimated to the feeling of being full.

“You feel so good,” he pants, head thrown back and Adam’s apple bobbing. “You feel so good.”

“Steve, baby, please move.” At your behest, he’s pulling out slowly still, and it sounds obscene and wet because your slick is incessant, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever love a pussy as much as he loves yours. Your whine is coming from deep in your throat with the loss of his thickness in you, but it explodes into a girlish wail as he starts pushing back in again. Fully seated in you, he readjusts, resting an elbow by the side of your head and sliding an arm beneath your back. Melting into his embrace, you throw your arms around his shoulders to feel the warm, freckled expanse of his back. Like this, it’s all skin on skin and breathing each other’s breath, and if you could crawl inside his skin, you would. His hips begin a faster rhythm, pistoning steadily into your wet heat which is getting hotter and wetter by the moment. It’s all curling pleasure, and you don’t mean to, but your fingernails dig into the muscle of his shoulders. Everything in you is trembling, so you bury your face in his neck, where he smells like cologne and sweat.

“Steve!” It’s muffled by salty skin.

“I know, baby, you’re doing so well.” His praise rips a whine from you. “Taking me so well, pretty girl.”

He wants to kiss you, but your mouth is hidden, so he does the next best thing: mouth wetly at your neck, bite the spot below your ear, suck bruises into the well of your collarbone. You respond with a bite to his shoulder, and it almost makes him want to laugh. Your cunt has grown tighter again, and he knows you’re close but that something has to change to get you there. His hot breath washes against the shell of your ear. “Hold on.”

Holding you tight to his chest with the arm already underneath your back, he pulls you both into a sitting position, you on his lap. He knows he’ll be able to get deeper this way, and he can tell you’re already feeling it by the way you’re mewling sweet nothings. “Stevie baby, I feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, I know.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, this time in unfathomable pleasure, and he studies your face. The sweat that seems to make you glow, your swollen, kiss-bitten lips, the lashes that rest so delicately on the apples of your cheeks. With tender fingers, he pushes the hair out of your eyes again, tucking strands behind your ears, smoothing what can’t be tamed back into the mess of your hair. Your eyes flutter open, and the brown of his eyes shines with incredible fondness in the dim light of the basement. Your shaky fingers push a few errant locks behind his ears, and he laughs at the reciprocated gesture. Your hands find home at his jaw, bringing his mouth to yours. These kisses are slow but not gentle, and you’re licking into his mouth, and he’s licking into yours. His hands settle on your hips once again, and your surprised gasp yawns into a gaping moan as he holds you up and then drops you down onto his cock, his tip bumping your cervix.

And with that, you’re back into it. Your thighs quiver as you try to keep pace with his thrusts. Everything between your thighs is slippery and fast, and all you can do is hold his shoulders for support. You’re already so pent up, and the heat is stirring in your stomach, and you know you won’t last long. A particularly deep thrust has you clenching, and he holds your hips down for a moment, spearing into you before resuming his pace.

You’re babbling mindlessly, trying to repay his good dirty talk, but it’s mostly incoherent groans and various iterations of so big, so good, so deep. It’s hard to think when he’s fucking you like his life depends on it. Another hard thrust, you’re crying out, and something about the way your voice stretched thin, he knows you’re close.

“Come on, pretty girl. You’re doing so good, you can come for me, I know you can.”

One hand leaves your hip to find your clit, giving quick back and forth strokes that have you buckling.

“Steve.” It’s urgent, and he knows you’re right there. One more stroke, and you’re collapsing in his neck, his hips slowing but not stopping.

“There you go, I’ve got you.” The hand on your hip slides around your back to pull you closer. You’re inconsolable, whining endlessly into his skin. Your breathing starts to slow, but a gasp interrupts the gradual descent. You pry yourself from his skin and look him in the eye. “You haven’t come.”

“You’re tired.” He shakes his head nonchalantly, but the way his chest heaves with stuttering breaths gives him away.

He should know by now that you’re stubborn and won’t let this slide. You’re shaking your head emphatically. “Not too tired.”

He’s about to protest when you reach behind you, setting your hands on his knees and your chest puffing out, and the sight of your tits presented proudly in his face is enough to silence him wholly. With great effort, you lift up your hips and slam them down, and he’s already shuddering. Despite your exhaustion, you find a moderate rhythm, grinding into him on the downbeat. His hands find your waist, and he can’t tear his eyes away from the way your tits bounce with the rise and fall of your hips. You can tell he’s close because the muscles in his lower stomach are jumping, so you swirl your hips experimentally, and that’s all he needs. He grunts with a jerk of his hips into you, spilling into the condom, and his head falls into the valley of your chest, murmuring softly prettiest baby and angel and perfect.

He’s hugging your waist and pressing kisses to your chest which is already littered with purple and red bruises, and you bring your hands to the sides of his head, smoothing his hairline at his temple with your thumbs. Nestling your nose into the mess of his hair, you press kisses to the crown of his head. It’s his turn to bury his face in your neck, and it gives you a chance to look down his back. Remorse crumples beneath your ribs as you see the red lines of your nails sweeping down the length of his spine, so you turn away, pressing your face to the back of his head and stretching your arms to wrap about his neck. It’s a well-deserved moment of quiet, just the hushed sounds of breath evening out. For as much as his mind was racing earlier in the evening, Steve’s brain is finally quiet, content. Your head, on the other hand, is quite full, but the loudest thought is just that it feels so good to be held!!!! To be held by him!!!!

Neither of you wants to pull away, but after a couple minutes, the dampness still trickling out of you demands attention. With your legs still wrapped around him, he turns to lay you back down on the couch, and he hangs over you, propped up on one arm. Knowing you’re going to be sensitive, he looks you in the eye. You nod. Slowly but surely, he starts to pull out of you and in the process, pulls a groan from you. He pauses halfway through, “You alright?” You’re nodding again but you also grab his wrist to steady yourself. Your grip tightens as he finishes pulling out, and you’re both panting, mourning the loss of fullness and warmth and closeness. He dips his head to plant a kiss on your knee. “I’ll go grab a washcloth, yeah?”

He stands and grabs his underwear from the floor.

“Hey, can you toss me the sweatshirt?” You point to the first discarded piece of clothing, and he throws it back to you. You tug it over your head while he swiftly removes the condom and ties it off before slipping into his boxers. Rounding the couch to go upstairs, he leans down to kiss your forehead, and the simple affection seems somehow much more intimate than everything that preceded it.

“Be back in a sec.”

—

Steve’s padding his way down the stairs, so you know he found socks somewhere upstairs. He makes a show of hopping over the back of the couch to sit at your feet. You’re hugging a pillow to your chest, knees bent and pressed together. With a slow hand, he pries your legs apart and presents the washcloth to you with a smile which you return halfheartedly. He’s ever so gentle, wiping carefully to remove all the stickiness from between your thighs. Once satisfied with his work, he sets the cloth aside on the end table. “And because I think you’re really gonna wanna wash your underwear before you put it back on, I brought you these.” He pulls out a second pair of boxers. “Plus, I thought it’d be fun to match.”

He’s grinning at you, and you try to match his energy but fail, taking the boxers from him and slipping them on. “Thanks, Stevie.”

His arm rests on the back of the couch casually, but he watches you with furrowed brows and great concern. He waits for you to explain yourself, and when you don’t, he begins to prod, “You okay?”

Swallowed in his sweatshirt, you tighten the pillow against your chest, trying to shore up all of your defenses before proceeding. You stare at the ceiling. “I have a question, but I don’t know how to ask it.”

He shakes his head, eyes trained on you. “You know you can ask me anything.”

You swallow harshly, and you still can’t meet his gaze. “Was—was this just an easy way for you to get off?”

He wasn’t sure where you were going to go with your question, but he finds himself thoroughly unprepared for what you do ask. “What?”

“Was I just…an easy fuck? I know you said you hadn’t really been on dates recently, and I don’t know, I just thought maybe you saw me as an easy target ‘cuz you already knew I liked you.”

His mind is reeling from your accusation, and he wants to be mad but only finds himself deflated and at a loss for words when he sees the scared look in your eye. He can see you going over everything he did, everything he said that night in your brain, searching for sincerity. His mouth is open as he searches for something to say.

“No,” he whispers. “No way.” Much more firm.

“Then, why did you do it?” You sit up to demand more. “Why now? Because you were very clear before that you didn’t want me the way I wanted you when you walked away without saying anything when I told you I was in love with you!” Embarrassment blooms at your outburst, so the next words come out quiet. “What am I supposed to think?”

“That I’m a jerk,” he replies weakly. “That I’m a stupid jerk who doesn’t know how to understand his feelings, let alone talk about them.”

Your eyes are wide. “I don’t feel bad for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “I guess I just kept thinking about how things would change between us, and I didn’t want anything to change. Not that I didn’t like you like that, but I thought it’d be so much easier to lose you if we went for it. Then I went and lost you anyway….” He trails off, empty eyes trained at the floor. “I just didn’t know how to tell you any of that, I didn’t have the words. So I left.”

The silence that follows is physically painful, and when he finally musters the courage to raise his gaze to you, you’re already staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

“No offense, Steve, but that’s stupid as fuck.”

Of course, you know how to make him laugh after the terrifying, impossible task of sharing his feelings, and it feels good to laugh with you about it because it had made him sick with guilt for months.

“It’s hard to talk about your feelings, I get it, but dude, there are better solutions than walking away from someone and then avoiding them for literal months.”

He runs his hands over his face. “I know, I know. But you make me stupid.”

“You do stupid just fine on your own.”

He’s glad you’re smiling again.

“I do really like you,” he confesses with the ghost of a grin.

“As a friend?” you tease with a raised eyebrow.

“As way more than a friend.” He wants to say it, wants to say the word sitting on the tip of his tongue so badly, but everything in his body is refusing. So he looks at you with these big, round, adoring eyes, and he hopes you get it. You smile like you understand.

“Okay, just checking.”

“And I think we should go for it.”

This genuinely surprises you, and while you’re not one to say no to what you want, you have to make sure he means it. “Really?”

“Really. The last two months sucked without you. All that you never know what you had ‘til it’s gone shit.” And he can’t tell you he loves you, so instead he says, “If I could spend the rest of my life with you, I would. No question.”

This makes you laugh, but he knows it’s not a joke. “Alright, slow your roll, lover boy.” The mirth fades slightly from your face, and he can tell what’s coming next is hard for you to say out loud. “I’m glad you’re all ready to go, but—” A deep breath. “But I need you to know that you hurt me.”

He’s nodding. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

The apology is genuine.

“I forgive you.” You mean it too. “But it just means that we’ll have to take it slow. If you’re okay with that.”

His hand seeks out yours, finding it on your knee. He squeezes tightly.

“I’d wait for you forever.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #major apology to everyone who had to read this without italics i forget they don't transfer during the Great Google Docs Copy Paste

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x-neurodivergent-reader · 1 year

Text

Sealing the Void (Dhawan!Master x Autistic!Reader) (Rewrite)

Summary: When you visit an alien planet, the Master wonders why you became so attached to a member of a species that is their equivalent of a cat. When you begrudgingly tell him the reason, he does something you would have never expected from him.

A/N: Hi – as I’ve said, I’m not quite coming back from my hiatus yet, but I’ve been wanting to rewrite this fic for a while now. Enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral. The fic can also be read as either romantic or platonic!

Content warnings: Description of animal death and feelings of grief, many other implied deaths (the Master and the reader character destroy a planet together for fun). Some angst with a fluffy ending (except for the alien planet, they’re screwed)

Tag list: @agent-barnes40

You had been acting somewhat strangely lately, the Master had noticed. While he didn’t typically care for humans’ emotions and struggles, it was clear that something had been bothering you, despite your insistence otherwise. Were it not for the fact that it didn’t seem to affect your ability to carry out his plans with him, he likely would have tried to pry it out more than he already has.

The current trip to carry out global destruction on a poor, unfortunate alien planet was relatively normal for you both, at first. You had managed to sweet-talk your way into the good graces of one of the most powerful people in that world – a queen, to be exact – creating the perfect start to set your plans into motion. Thanks to her making the mistake of trusting you, you and the Master were able to find all kinds of powerful weaponry and technology which, if you were sneaky enough, could easily be used to your advantage.

The Master was proud of how far your negotiating skills had come since you had joined him – all thanks to his guidance, of course – and he felt confident that he and his trusted companion would successfully raze this planet to the ground, destroying the vast majority of its population, as well as the foreseeable futures of anyone who had the misfortune of surviving…

…and then something terrible happened.

Something that the Master had no reason to predict. Something that threatened to take you out of the equation. Something which, if either of you weren’t careful enough, could easily jeopardise this entire scheme.

The queen had a cat. An alien cat, with antennae between its ears, huge dark eyes, and purple, striped fur. And it just so happened to become attached to you.

From the moment you first laid eyes on it, you couldn’t stop yourself from fawning over it at any given opportunity. Even before the “cat” noticed you in turn, the Master could practically feel your excitement radiating from you – he just knew that, even when you said nothing, your thoughts were screaming your immediate affection towards it. It took every molecule in his body for him to avoid rolling his eyes at how pathetic he found it, especially when the queen also noticed the “cat” and, more than happy with the opportunity to show it off, gave her permission for you to indulge its desire for attention.

Sometimes the Master had to wonder if you knew just how lucky you were to be his favourite human, because if he had to deal with anyone else talking to this thing in that disgusting baby voice, he most likely would have compressed them on the spot.

Thankfully, after days of seldom seeing you without the small, furry animal, the time finally came for you both to conduct his plans – and should fortune be on his side, you would forget all about the cat once it was over.

He often took the lead at this point in your adventures, since the idea of having to carefully command the right people, and make use of your newfound tools in exactly the right way, was often overwhelming for you. You instead preferred to aid him in his efforts from the side – and thankfully, when it was time, that damn cat that had been attached to you for nearly the entire trip was nowhere to be found. And the Master was more than happy to say as such while you helped him to prepare.

“Seriously,” he said, finally taking the chance to roll his eyes that he had been repressing for so long, “how much fuss do you think the stupid animal could possibly need? I’m shocked that incompetent excuse for a ruler even let it be with you for so long – I was half convinced you were going to steal it!”

Your face was carefully neutral as the Master nagged at you, having expected this lecture from the moment you met the little alien, considering his dislike of animals. The cool glow of the screen in front of you illuminated your face as you searched for any discrepancies in the doomsday weapons he was about to hijack. “He was soft.”

“If you need something soft to stim with, love, I could have just skinned it for you.” The Master remarked, flicking his hand nonchalantly. He thought that he saw you wince slightly out of the corner of his eye, but brushed it off as a trick of the light. “Would be much safer, anyway – it was probably “cuddling” you to see if you’d be a decent snack.”

You scoffed at the Master’s teasing, shaking your head slightly while you dragged your finger and thumb apart on the screen, zooming into the map to get a better look at any possible details that could disrupt your plans. The Master approached you and looked at the screen, quickly making sure to spot anything you might miss, before he continued the conversation you would have much preferred to leave behind.

“Besides, don’t you already have a cat? I can drop you off to see it any time you want, all you have to do is-”

“Everything looks to be in order.” You cut him off.

The Master grinned mischievously, his excitement at the news overwhelming any annoyance he felt at being interrupted so curtly, as well as the brief confusion at the crack in your tone. He spun as he approached the controls he needed to enforce the final step, a childish air about him when he started the preparations.

His hands flitted between the buttons for several seconds, before slowing, his finger hovering unsteadily over the one that would activate the weapons. The Master looked over to you with a spark of determination in his dark eyes, which was only reserved for such special occasions as this, as he held up the index and middle fingers on his free hand – the signal you both agreed on for you to get ready to run, and that you would need your ear defenders.

“Everything on this planet should be reduced to dust in about an hour.” His voice was shaky, somewhat husky, with anticipation, as you dug your small box out of your pocket, sticking the ear plugs into your ears. “You ready?”

From the moment you nodded to him, he didn’t hesitate to hit the button, and you both rushed out of the room. All you had to do now was get back to the TARDIS safely, and watch the consequences of your hard work unfold.

~*~

The Master threw the TARDIS doors open, ushering you in before slamming them behind him. You had sprinted straight to the console to steady yourself as you caught your breath, and the Master followed, darting around it and flipping the necessary switches to stir the ship into action. You briefly patted your ears, making sure your defenders were still in place, before grasping tightly onto the side of the console as the familiar rumbling and whining noise indicated that it was about to leave the planet.

Given the circumstances you both were faced with on the way back, the timing couldn’t have been better – after the queen found out who had caused her people’s incoming demise, she had sent some of her soldiers to try to either arrest or execute the two of you. You found it to be quite the inconvenience, as it drained a lot of the time you had left to escape, but at least the Master seemed to have fun with demonstrating how the TCE works to them.

Soon enough, the TARDIS’s vibrations settled, as the ship came to a stop. The Master’s excitement was palpable – you didn’t miss the shiver in his breath as he approached the doors and proudly swung them open again, showing the TARDIS to be floating in space at a safe distance from the planet, while still having a perfect view of the explosions.

That wonderfully wicked smile was still on his face as he turned to you, dramatically bowing while gesturing to the floor at the doors. “After you.”

His display caused you to return his smile, as you took the defenders out of your ears and walked up to the doors, moving to sit down with your legs dangling over the edge of the ship.

You said nothing as the Master settled next to you, still feeling breathless, your heart only just starting to calm down. The view of the stars, planets and galaxies as the TARDIS floated through space never truly got old for you. It was the perfect way to unwind from both the high-energy adventures, and any overstimulation that may result from them.

Despite how rude and animated the Master could be, you were grateful that he had the courtesy to know when it was best for you to just sit and stargaze for a while, until you were ready to spring back into action. His constant planning and searching for discrepancies in his next big schemes came to his own benefit in these situations, you noticed, as he would use them to occupy his erratic mind in the meantime.

But for now, you both sat in silence, and the thoughts that silence allowed you to process weren’t as kind to you as they normally were. Typically, as horrified as most other humans would be if they knew, you didn’t feel much remorse for the actions you took during your journeys with the Time Lord. Travelling with him was the most fun you’ve ever had in your life, and you wouldn’t trade it – destruction and all – for the world.

But this time, you started to remember the one good thing you had found on the planet in the distance, a feeling of guilt and even sorrow starting to invade your mind at what was about to be inflicted onto him…

“You interrupted me earlier.” The Master, ironically, interrupted those thoughts. You took a brief glance at his face, just enough to get an idea of what he was feeling. Neither his expression nor his tone of voice seemed to convey any anger, or even mild displeasure at you. He seemed completely neutral, as though he had merely asked about the weather.

Regardless, you knew that the way he expressed himself didn’t always match what he was really thinking, and you couldn’t help the feeling of self-consciousness that his statement raised, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe to create a small amount of distance between you. “Yeah. I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have done that.”

There was a moment where you got no reply, and a sinking feeling in your stomach made you start to dread exactly where the conversation may go. While things such as interrupting him when he spoke usually made him briefly annoyed at most, you started to think back to whether you had broken any of the other rules he had set when you first started travelling with him, for fear that you had done something to warrant him sending you home for the last time.

After the lingering emptiness you had dealt with for the past months, you didn’t feel like you could handle any more.

“You interrupted me when I brought up your cat, specifically. And you’ve been acting weird ever since that alien…” He waved his hand in a rotating motion a couple of times as he tried to think of the right term, only to give up. “…thing got attached to you. Weirder than you normally are around animals.” The Master once again spoke a little more casually than you expected, although it didn’t make you less on edge.

When you didn’t respond, he continued. “Did something happen to it?”

You swallowed, a small pang of the grief that you expected to have subsided by now hitting you like a train, as though each moment where you took the time to process what happened was sped up, now that you were put on the spot to talk about it aloud. The grief you have kept hidden from the Master since it started – restricting your sorrow, guilt, and tears to the time you spent at your home between your travels, trying to ignore how vacant it now felt – for fear of being viewed as just another weak human by him.

The grief you kept locked deep in your heart around him, so you wouldn’t have to risk losing him, too.

The Master didn’t do anything to comfort you when he saw your body language change at the question, since it wasn’t in his nature, but you could feel him waiting for you to be ready to answer. The silence of the void surrounding the TARDIS weighed heavily on that between you, until you took your fidget necklace out from under your shirt – where you always kept it on trips to avoid it getting caught on something, or making a noise while running away from the problems you and the Master caused – and it jingled quietly as your fingers fiddled with it half-heartedly.

“I won’t bore you with every detail, but… my cat got sick a while ago. She was being treated for it, and for a while, she genuinely seemed to be getting better. Not perfect, but she seemed like she was on the mend...”

You shuffled backwards into the TARDIS, making enough room in front of you to tuck your knees up to your chest. As silly as it was, it felt like you were protecting yourself from your vulnerability – protecting your heart from the judgement you just knew was coming soon.

“…but then, around two months ago, I woke up to find…” you tried to figure out how to word it, not wanting to go into the fairly morbid detail that had disturbed you the most at the time, “…her in a state that showed that she absolutely was not doing better. I managed to get an emergency appointment for her, only to be told that medicine was never really going to help her, and the problem would keep coming back after being treated.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke, the painful memories flooding back into your mind with more and more detail. “She would need surgeries for the rest of her life, which her insurance wouldn’t have covered. I didn’t have the heart – nor the money – to put her through that, so I… decided to let her go.”

It was only then that you forced yourself to face the Master, expecting to see his disappointment, anger – any indication that confiding in him was a mistake. He continued to look in your general direction for a moment, before silently turning his gaze back towards the planet that was about to die. Given that some of your sorrow had inadvertently slipped through several times after what happened, and he had noticed enough to point it out, you wondered if he was putting the pieces together, recognising that this was all connected.

The silence, along with finally talking about the events you had bottled up, made you immediately feel like you had to justify yourself. Anything to avoid bringing your fear of him leaving you behind to life.

“I’m sorry I got distracted by the cat – or whatever it was – back there. I decided not to get a new pet yet, because I knew I couldn’t just replace her and everything would be better, but… I’ve been around pets my whole life, and it’s felt so weird to not have one to look after and make a fuss of whenever I want anymore. It feels like something that’s become a natural instinct isn’t being fulfilled…”

You had to stop, you knew, as you felt your eyes start to well up. You rubbed at the inner corners of them with your thumb and index finger, trying to look like you were simply exhausted. “…I know it’s stupid for me to still feel like this after a few months, and I-I promise I’ll get over it soon-”

“Stand back.” The Master, ever the hypocrite, interrupted you as he rose to his feet. The determination in his voice notably lacked the eager anticipation it held back when he was about to destroy the world the TARDIS now overlooked – instead, it was more reminiscent of dark clouds curtaining the sky, in the build-up to a devastating storm.

It was almost on par with how he sounded while antagonising the Doctor.

Understandably, you didn’t argue, stumbling somewhat clumsily to your feet and stepping further into the TARDIS, before the Master forcefully closed the doors. Without a word, he went back to the console, and you quickly put your defenders back into your ears while he triggered the same controls that set it into motion again.

You just barely managed to grab onto one of the rails next to you before the ship started its journey, desperate to avoid being thrown around like a ragdoll as the Master, presumably, steered the TARDIS back to your home, ready to leave you behind for good after the moment of weakness you showed him.

You knew you shouldn’t have opened up.

As the ship settled once more, the Master stormed up to the doors, coolly narrowing his eyes at you as you turned, resigning yourself to the fact that he was about to make you leave, before he spoke. “Out of the way. You’re not going anywhere.”

His words, while still carrying the same stern tone, surprised you as they cut through your expectations. You looked at the doors, then back at him, unsure of what was about to happen. “What are you…?”

The Master sighed before gently pushing past you, tugging on one of the doorhandles and marching out of the TARDIS, leaving you to stare in bewilderment as he shut the door behind him, almost as quickly as he had opened it.

From the brief glimpse you got, you recognised the room he had entered as being part of the building you had just escaped – specifically, a lot closer to where the queen spent most of her time. Looking down at your watch, you noted that, assuming the Master hadn’t also travelled through time to get there, he only had around five minutes to get you both away from the planet again before its destruction.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the TARDIS, keeping your hands occupied with your stim necklace, trying to focus your mind enough to avoid getting overwhelmed by your uncertainty. You knew how unpredictable the Master could be, but the lack of communication in this case was concerning. You couldn’t think of any reason why he would go back, especially with the sheer tenacity he displayed in doing so. The heavy silence from the ship he made you wait in didn’t help, either, as there was no indication that even she knew what he was doing.

He wouldn’t typically risk his life like this for anyone other than himself, so surely it couldn’t have anything to do with what you had told him… could it?

Before you could start to entertain the idea, one of the doors opened yet again, lacking the Master’s usual flourish as he opened it with just one hand. You were briefly worried that he had gotten hurt, until he fully entered the room, completely unharmed, aside from a few patches of ash on his skin and clothes.

And in his other arm, he was carrying the alien cat which had, soon to be formerly, belonged to the queen you had ruthlessly betrayed.

There were few times where the Master had a close enough call with death to make you this relieved to see him, but the fact that he really did do this for you made your heart feel like it was soaring, to the point that, were it not for your sensory issues, you would be tempted to tackle him in a hug.

The Master was quick to approach you to place the cat in your eager hands, before heading back to the controls to get the TARDIS away from the rapidly incoming destruction. He spoke quickly yet decisively as he steered the ship. “Your pet. Not mine. If it isn’t litter trained, I’m bringing it back to kick it out. Never ask me for anything ever again.”

“Deal!” You squealed joyfully, holding the cat like a baby as it settled in your arms to purr against your shoulder. You tugged the part of your shirt it was kneading at away from you when the TARDIS made you stumble, so the alien cat’s claws didn’t cut into you as you held it protectively.

You had no reason to believe that its claws were venomous – the Master likely would have stopped you from indulging its need for attention a lot sooner if they were – but you still didn’t want risk them breaking any skin in case, to his surprise, he turned out to be wrong.

When everything stilled, the Master turned away from the console, facing the massive grin on your face as you almost cradled the cat, already stroking its silky fur to calm yourself from the events of the day. He rolled his eyes at you, albeit without the same displeasure it held before – if anything, the act carried a degree of fondness.

“You happier now?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets and avoiding your gaze as you walked towards him. “I know it’s not going to replace your old cat, but at least it can help you through whatever pain you have left. Maybe. Who knows-”

The Master froze when you pressed your forehead against his shoulder – your alternative to a hug, that involved less physical contact. Your nose was pressed against the plum cloth of his coat as you thanked him, the vibration of the cat’s purring creating a rather pleasant feeling against your heart, while the Master awkwardly patted your arm.

“Yeah… it’s nothing…” He murmured, seemingly at a loss for words at your show of affection as he caressed your arm absentmindedly. His hand stopped suddenly, and you wondered if something was wrong, until… “…as long as it doesn’t start clawing at my clothes.”

“Oh, crap-” You withdrew yourself quickly, inspecting his clothes for a moment to make sure the cat hadn’t done exactly that. The cat’s ebony eyes had been closed, only to blearily open them and make a little “mrph” noise at the loss of the Master’s warmth.

“Don’t worry,” the Master smirked at your concern, winking at you to reassure you, “it’s safe for now.”

“Good… I mean, he likely won’t do it if I get some toys to keep him occupied,” you observed, continuing to pet the cat, “and, oh – as you said, I’ll need to get some litter stuff for him and make sure he’s trained, too. And some food of course, although I’ve no idea what this species eats… do you know?”

“Not a clue.” The Master shrugged nonchalantly, before turning back to the controls, pulling a screen towards him. “But we can go to a library to find some books on them. Shouldn’t take too long – the TARDIS can make a playroom or something to keep it occupied, until we get back.”

You perked up as the Master set the TARDIS up to do exactly that, while the creature slowed down its kneading on your shirt and closed its large eyes once more, starting to fall asleep in your arms. “You’ll really help me?”

“As I said, I don’t know much about this species – for all I know, my joke about it preparing to eat you might be true. I’d rather not have it come for me next.”

You scrunched up your nose and nudged him playfully, before hearing the TARDIS finish creating the new room. As you started to head towards it, careful not to go fast enough to wake the cat again, you stopped for a moment, turning back to the Master.

“Seriously, though. Thank you.” The Master turned away from the console to look you, raising an eyebrow as you spoke. “For both saving the cat, and listening to me. I think… talking about it helped me to process some of the thoughts I’ve still been having, about what happened. I feel a little better.”

The Master was silent in return, but the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a small smile – one of the rare, genuine ones that you’ve never seen him offer anyone else.

Offering a bright smile in return, you turned to leave before things got too much more vulnerable than you knew he would like, continuing to pet the alien cat’s violet fur as you started to look for the room the TARDIS made for it.

With your back turned to him, you missed how the Master’s warm smile grew, while he heard you whispering to the cat about what name you might choose for it.

#dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master imagine #dhawan!master x y/n #dhawan!master x you #doctor who master x reader #doctor who master imagine #doctor who master x you #the master x reader #dhawan!master imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who x you #autistic!reader #neurodivergent!reader #My Imagines #I am carrying this in my mouth dropping it gently at your feet then scurrying back into my hibernation cave

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