#some of these gifs look HORRIBLE i am SO SORRY
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Right! Yeah, as a biological creature myself, I haven't experienced much of the reproductive drive myself. Idk if I'm on the ace spectrum or just don't find people who I personally find attractive very often. Also heard that it's normal for mammals to not be driven in this way when they are stressed/traumatized. That could also explain some things...
I'm maybe projecting my lack of interest in having kids onto Aziraphale and Crowley. I mean... NG used to say that they weren't biological creatures and were infertile. That made me so JEALOUS! But I'm also realizing that NG is unreliable when it comes to GO world-building... I've always found his input confusing and sometimes even bland? Such as Crowley not actually being a snek? Not sorry, that is one hill I'm always going to DIE on! Am I the only one bothered by this?
Anyway, yeah. Now that you point it out... where did the anti-Christ come from? Satan is his father after all... idk. I thought that happened through magic or "God's will" or something. Idk how things work with Christianity. I wasn't raised with the Bible and never went to church (my parents are atheists and I grew up going to a Native American school), so I'm still learning a LOT about its cultural influences. Um... I suppose I have heard of Bible stories where Demons had offspring with humans to create horrible monsters? Or undercover angels getting "frisky" with the humans as a part of their "mission?" Is that a part of the lore?
I mean... I'm not opposed to the idea of Crowley and Aziraphale having kids ig. But if they are... I personally want it to be weird because they're supernatural and Crowley is LITERALLY a monster. Like, what, does Crowley have a clutch sometimes? Is reproduction done through magic? Do they do weird interdimensional things? The idea of Maggie being their great-granddaughter works. Close enough to still bear a resemblance. I've been told I sort of look like a great-grandparent. Said great-grandparent had auburn hair, greyish eyes (the green in my eyes is very grey), and a very similar facial structure. Apparently, I inherited those "adorable" apple cheeks from her.
As someone on the spectrum, I relate to them tbh. I feel removed from the human experience as well! I can also do math and shit... which is sorcery to a surprising number of people I've met throughout my life? And am also good at memorizing books? Some of my senses are also heightened... but I feel blind/disabled compared to other humans in many different ways too! But they sometimes also seem oblivious to things that feel like instinct to me. That's probably what life is like for Aziraphale and Crowley... especially Crowley! I mean... does anyone ever think about how an interdimensional snek perceives the world? He CLEARLY seems to be able to perceive things in peculiar ways that Aziraphale and biological creatures can't. He's also able to use miracles in ways that other celestial beings can't and has a strong visual imagination that helps him manipulate human technology/ideas. He seems like he could be the autistic version of a celestial being, tbh. It's probably part of why he fell.
Isopraxism
Isopraxism aka Limbic Synchrony aka Mirroring: Intuitive, instinctual, human brain process whereby humans unconsciously mirror the speech patterns, postures, and/or expressions of those with whom they connect and often spend time. Similar behavior exists in the animal kingdom. In a human relationship, especially deep friendships and romantic relationships, it is a sign of firm trust, deep connection and understanding, and a strong, emotional bond.
Example:
Crowley's "well" + Eyebrows expression, seen in multiple scenes, is one of his default responses, yes? We see it in Eden, like below, and in The Dirty Donkey in S2 and even when Crowley does it in while in Aziraphale's body during the body swap.
This Crowley default response is just the kind of expression and speech pattern that a trusted partner might unconsciously pick up after years of time spent bonding with him...
...which is why it's not surprising when Aziraphale, praying in S1, suddenly "well" + Eyebrows...
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PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!
I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀
Everything Again
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader
Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic
Words: 8K+
Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?
Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.
A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!
When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper.
She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration. But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water.
Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue.
“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go.
It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way.
“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.
“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”
“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back.
“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.
“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being.
“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you.
Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.
“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.”
There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her.
“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”
“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned.
You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.
—---------------------------------
That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.
The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her.
After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers.
It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.
It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.
She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully.
The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web.
“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time.
Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you.
“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you.
And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.
—------------------------------------------------
In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it.
She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near.
But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen.
Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again.
So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time.
Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not?
As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be.
With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down.
The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out.
There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything.
Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day.
You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces.
The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.
She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons.
Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night.
Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes.
Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.
You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.
“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.
“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more.
“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention.
“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”
Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you.
“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more.
“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”
Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now.
“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up.
You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”
She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing.
“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you.
You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”
If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes. For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her.
Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was.
So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space.
“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all.
“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.
“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours.
“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt.
“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you.
“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome.
“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.
“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”
You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable.
“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist.
“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?”
“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“
“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place.
“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises.
“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again.
Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked.
The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way.
“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.
As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.
You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.”
You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor.
Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.
“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you.
“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it.
But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.”
You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs.
“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be.
With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.
You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to.
When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.
“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”
Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response.
“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling.
Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.
“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”
Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.
Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more.
She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you.
The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name.
“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to.
As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you.
Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.
When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.
“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”
All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words.
“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster.
“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her.
The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often.
When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet.
“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was.
“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you.
“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked.
Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches.
“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.”
The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder.
“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin.
“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”
Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you.
As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever.
For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.
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very very random duo / thought but! quietgamer!matt x sleepy!reader perhaps.
matt sitting at his desk, sometime around two or three in the morning. he's trying not to disturb the lump in his bed which he recognizes as you when you let out a noise in your fit of slumber and the mess of hair peeking from the sheets. the light of his monitor is harsh however, illuminating the room and casting moving shadows everywhere.
his eyes dart back and forth, tuned into the fortnite match he was currently in. his eyes are a little bleary and there are dark bags under them, despite the brunette not being tired. he tended to stay up or wake up in the middle of the night, and as for you? you slept like a baby.
matt found it adorable if he's being honest, which is why when some kid kills him he's banging his desk before wincing and letting a curse fall under his breath. he doesn't notice the ball in his bed shift and move about, the sound of the sheets rustling failing to get to his ears covered by his headset.
the sound of your footsteps is soft as you pad against his floor, eyes squinting from the blinding light of his monitor. soon you're stood next to matt, standing there and yawning until his head is turning to look up at you with a crooked grin. "sorry baby, woke y'up? my bad." his voice is a little deeper than usual, and he just sounds so good.
matt lets one of his hands leave his controller, legs spreading in the pair of grey sweatpants he had on. a ringed hand pats his thigh gently, eyes already locked onto the new game about to start as he motioms for you to take a seat on his lap. "c'mon, theree y'go.." his voice sounds like honey to your ears, all smooth and rich once you're settled into the warmth of his body.
matt lets you shift around and get all comfortable, arms wrapping around your middle to hold you close and still play his game, thumbs swiftly pressing buttons on his controller as you settle your face into the crook of his neck. "'m sorry, didn't mean to wake y'up." because he really didn't—normally matt succeeds in not waking you, but he just got a little too pissed off this time.
"s'okay," your voice is raspy and heavy with sleep, muffle slightly against his skin as you hear matt let out a little chuckle. you briefly feel his head turning before a soft kiss is laid onto your head, followed by a curse as you feel matt sit up a little straighter in his chair.
and the two of you stay like that, until matt's had enough of his game and is a little pissed off. his hands are holding onto your hips and one is sneaking under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, groping at your ass as he hums lowly. his fingers find the edge of your panties, two of them rubbing over your cunt all slow and languidly.
"why're you so wet, huh? jus' been sittin' here with me n' you're already soaked?" his voice holds an air of amusement, and you can't do much except whine out of exhaustion and need. your hips shift back, trying to grind against matt's two fingers.
"c'mon baby, whaddya need? need my fingers, huh? need to get off like a needy bitch?" his words are somewhat mean, yet his actions are somewhat kind. matt lets his fingers rub over your clit before shifting your panties to the side and sinking his middle and ring finger into your cunt so easily.
you're humping back against him slowly, pants and little moans growing slightly louder in volume. "s'right.. there we go, good girl."
take rhis while i work on the second part to that other post thank you v much for 700+ notes on rhat as well like.
as always, not proofread. it's 3 am and im horribly tired goodnight
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©eph3merall 2024
#ᶻz eph3merall#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo blurb#matt sturniolo prompt#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets#gamer!matt#sleepy!reader#gn im so tired
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Reality of Realizations
[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.
WC: 3559
Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto
This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶
『••✎••』
In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.
Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.
For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.
And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.
When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.
You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.
Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:
An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.
But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.
And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.
You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.
That guilt settled in.
He was a horrible person.
He had to make up for it.
And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.
The question was, how?
He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?
How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?
He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.
So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.
Surely, it would help.
After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.
Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.
He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.
Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.
He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.
Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.
He wanted to be your friend.
He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.
You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.
Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.
But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.
Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.
Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.
He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.
Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.
"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."
But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.
"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"
You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.
"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.
"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."
Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?
The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.
Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.
So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?
He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.
But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.
He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.
And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.
His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.
His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.
His mind continued to wander.
Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.
None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.
His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.
Birds.
Why does that remind him of something?
What do birds have to do with a gift?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.
And then, a memory flashed.
It was a rainy day, and you were late.
You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.
You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.
Luckily, it wasn't too far away.
Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.
And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.
You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.
When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.
You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.
A hairclip, to be specific.
You lost a hairclip.
It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.
You really cared.
You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.
And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.
If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.
Until now.
In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.
He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.
It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.
He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?
Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.
It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.
He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.
The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.
And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.
Oh, right, the apology.
He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.
But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?
Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.
He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.
Okay, how would he start?
Hi? No, that was too casual.
Hello? No, it's not formal enough.
Greetings?
No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.
He needed something more genuine, more real.
Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.
He cleared his throat again.
"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.
He started over.
"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."
This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.
"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."
He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.
"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."
Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.
He sighed.
Hopefully.
The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.
But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.
Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.
The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.
This is it, he thought—all or nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Here goes.
"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.
You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.
Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.
"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"
The question made him snap back into reality.
He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.
You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.
"What's this?"
"It's a gift."
Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.
"For... me?"
Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!
He shook his head.
"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."
You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?
You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.
"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."
Silence.
He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.
"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.
So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.
"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."
When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.
And that smile. Oh, that smile.
He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.
"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.
You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.
"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."
Wait, was that a yes?
Was that a yes?!
Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.
"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."
You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.
"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."
You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.
"I can… um, help you with that if you want."
The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.
It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.
It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.
"You look nice," he told you.
"Thank you."
There was a pause.
"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."
The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.
"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."
Mission make up with you: success.
The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.
Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.
#shoto todoroki#shouto todoroki#shoto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki/reader#shouto todoroki/reader#todoroki/reader#shoto todoroki x you#shouto todoroki x you#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#mha#mha todoroki#bnha#bnha todoroki#mha x reader#mha x you#shoto todoroki imagine#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia fandom#mha fandom#mha fanfiction#mha fic#boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia x reader#mha imagines#todoroki shouto#todoroki shoto x reader
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=> Joel: Do what must be done
You are doing what must be done when you are very rudely interrupted by a short shouty man,
Bdubs: Hey. HEY!!! Stop that. What do you have against horses anyways! They are beautiful creatures… and don’t even drop anything worthwhile - just leather!!! You wanna' know where else you can get leather?! Cows! They drop beef too!!! All horses drop is sadness and a pained death scream…
The horse you were punching lets out it’s final neigh in a melodious cadence,
Bdubs: See?!
Joel: Music to my ears-
Bdubs: Don’t tell me you enjoy that sound?! No sane person enjoys that sound!!! It’s horrible… like you. You’re horrible.
Joel: Well, would you look at that, it dropped a leather. Don’t you need three of these to craft a saddle?
Bdubs: ...maybe
Joel: Do you want it so you can make one and ride a horse in the SINGULAR DIRECTION that isn't immediately blocked off by blummin' water!?
Bdubs: ...
Bdubs: ...I don’t want your dirty horse leather!!! I refuse - on moral principle!
Joel: Fair, you need all the high ground you can get-
Bdubs: ARE YOU MAKIN’ FUN OF ME?!?! You’re shorter than I am.
Joel: Only if you count the hair, lad. It constitutes at least a third of your height.
Bdubs proceeds to make some kind of unintelligible grumble and starts punching the two cows you saw earlier, looks like he does want leather after all.
As for you, while you would love to finish off the job you started, Bdubs did raise one good point: horses don’t drop food… begrudgingly you pause your equestrian extermination in favor of sheep slaughter.
However you don’t get that far on mutton mutilation before your communicator goes off a ton of times. You keep getting interrupted…
As Doc’s message goes off you lock eyes with Bdubs’ uncomfortably large ones. Those things are uncanny... Well, it looks like neither of you are paired with the cyborg goat man.
But since you two were so close to where he fell you decide to check up on (read: tease) one of the servers newest members after he made such a ruckus in chat.
It turns out his soulmate was right there at spawn, and it just happened to be the other newbie. What are the odds of that?
Bdubs: Pssht, what amateurs. Don't they know it's traditional to check soulmates with the ol' fashioned punch test?
Joel: Punch test?
Bdubs: Yep. Like this-
Joel: What was that for?!
Bdubs: I told you, a punch test.
Joel: That’s not what I meant! Why so many times!?
Bdubs: I had to be extra sure that I wasn’t soulbound with horse punching' scum like you.
Joel: …
Bdubs: HEY, OW! EXCUUUSE YOU!!!
Joel: Sorry, double checking... I had to make extra sure I wasn’t soulbound with a stupid horse lover like you.
Bdubs: …yooouuu-
Joel: at least now we definitely know we aren’t linked,
Bdubs: For goodness sakes. If I was linked with you, I might’ve just ended my series right then and there!
Joel: Just to take me out with you!? You are an idiot.
Bdubs: To save myself from suffering. Not everything is about you!
Joel: Yes it is.
Bdubs: No it isn’t.
Joel: Yes it is.
Bdubs: No it isn’t!!! And to prove that, I’ll stop talking to you!
=====>
Start Over -- Go Back
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Not Like This
Summary: A night at the bar doesn’t go the way Bucky or you ever thought
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: established relationship, Bucky trying to get Steve a date, angst, attempted drugging with the intention of SA (nothing happens though), mentions of a knife/stabbing (doesn’t happen), smut, but like angsty smut not the sexy smut, Bucky being a huge idiot, lack of communication, dub-con/bordering non-con at times, degradation, oral m!rec, subspace, manhandling, very mean Bucky, safeword being called, crying, spanking, self-hatred, insecurities, self-reflection, aftercare, scared Bucky and reader, overstepping boundaries, communication at the end, some fluff
A/N: This is my gift to @buckys-wintersoldier for her birthday! This fic contains topics that maybe sensitive to some people. This is your last warning. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Updates are posted to my side blog @bucks-babesideblog
“This is getting hard to watch, Buck.” You grimace and turn your head towards your boyfriend. Steve stands on the dancefloor in a futile attempt to talk to the girl he’s been eyeing up for the past hour and a half. Bucky takes another swig of his beer before meeting your eyes with the same grimace. “ You should go and help him.”
“And what am I supposed to do, doll?” Bucky leans back in the booth, left arm resting behind your head as he whispers in your ear. A shiver passes through your body and your thighs clench involuntarily. His scent mixes with the faint smell of his last beer and the crowded bar’s sweaty stench.
“Go play wingman, apparently you were great at it in the 40’s.” You playfully nudge him away, mostly because you can’t think straight when he’s pressed so close to you, your body craves his already and you don’t need to make it any harder for yourself. “While you’re at it, I’ll get myself another drink.”
Bucky grumbles as you stand up without giving him a kiss. “Make sure you put it on my tab, doll.”
You giggle as you spin around to face him, dress swaying as you do so. “You know I will, hotstuff.” You take your seat at the bar and signal for the bartender, turning around to watch Bucky try and get Steve a date. You thank him as he places your drink down, but before you can get up, another man seats himself in the stool right next to yours.
“Hello, gorgeous.” At first you don’t realize that he’s talking to you, too caught up in the way Bucky’s muscles flex as he gestures to Steve. “I say, you’ve caught my eye tonight. Mind if I ask your name? I’m Jake.” It dawns on you that he wasn’t talking to anyone else, only you.
As you go to turn around to decline his horrible attempt at flirting, you see him slip a pill into your open drink out of the corner of your eye, so fast that none of the other patrons nor the bartender saw, but you did. Ice shoots through your veins. He tried to drug you. What do you do now? Leave? That would look suspicious. Call the bartender and say that it wasn’t the right drink? No, he heard your specific order.
“Umm,” you trail off. At first you were gauging how far you would have to run to make it to Bucky, but then you saw the pocket knife bulging out from underneath the man’s shirt. “Sorry, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Good, let him know I’m not alone.
“Him? Well he seems quite friendly with the lady in blue over there.” You don’t turn to look, not trusting to take your eyes off of him. “If I were him, we wouldn’t even have made it to the bar when you’re wearing a number like that.” He lets out a low whistle, eyes hungrily raking up and down your body.
You want to yell out for anyone to come over, but you’re too scared when you know that he has a knife. Yes, Bucky is a super soldier, but Jake could stab you faster than Bucky could reach you. “We have an open relationship actually.” Open relationship, really? Why would I fucking say that?
“So you’re telling me that I have a chance.” His beatty eyes lock in on your cleavage and you shift around uncomfortably. “Why don’t you have a sip of your drink? You seem pretty tense over there.” You pick up your drink with shaky hands before bringing the straw to your lips. You pretend to take a small sip which makes Jake smile, showing off his smoke stained teeth. “There you go, good girl.” Where the hell is Bucky? Come on, please come back.
You’re practically shaking in fear as his sweaty palm lands on your knee, creeping up to your thigh. Behind you resides Bucky who has overheard most of the conversation. Anger doused his entire body. He didn’t see Jake drug your drink or how scared you were, too caught up in your words. Open relationship? Letting him call you good girl? Touching you?
You almost shriek when Bucky’s metal hand grabs your wrist, pulling you away, but you instantly relax when you notice that Bucky’s come to save you. The fear still lingers under the surface but it feels like you can breathe without a heavy weight on your chest. “Thank god, Bucky. I-” He cuts you off as he spins around, flesh hand wrapping around your neck.
“Thank what? I leave you for five minutes and you turn into a little slut, huh?” Your eyes widen. There’s no way that he thinks that you wanted to even talk to that man at the bar. Before you can answer he lets your neck go and continues to drag you along. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. You want to be a little slut,” he pushes you into the passenger seat of his car before slamming the door and getting in the driver seat. “Then you can keep your mouth stuffed with my cock.”
He doesn’t even look at you as he slides his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his semi hard cock. He doesn’t see the tears welling up, or how you’re silently begging for him to comfort you, hug you. To tell you that everything is going to be okay, you’re safe and he loves you, but no, Bucky is furious at you.
You feel yourself start to slip into subspace, the fear of your previous situation in addition to Bucky’s harsh words have you floating off into space. You want to please him, show him that he’s the only one you want, but you also don’t want to have sex right now. Either way, he grabs the back of your head and forces you down on his cock before slamming his foot on the gas, making you lurch in the car.
“Keep your fucking head right there. You’re gonna let me use you however the fuck I want since you seem to think that you’re not mine and I’m not yours. You really fucking think that I would want another pussy? Another mouth? Oh, shit. Choke on that fat cock. Think Jake can fill up your mouth like this?” For just one moment, you forgot about Jake, about what could have happened to you, but at the mention of his name you try to pull off, suddenly not wanting to have your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.
“Don’t fucking run away from me. Never gonna share this perfect body. Shit, can feel you slobbering on my nuts. Bet you fucking like it too, being my little cocksucker.” No, you don’t like it, at least right now. I just want you to hold me.
“You’re so fucking good at this. Already gonna cum, ready? Fuck, gonna make me crash the fucking car just from some head. K-keep going, shit.” Tears stream down your face, partially from all your emotions bubbling over and partially from the brutal facefucking. His flesh hand grips the back of your neck and rails your head, spit and tears everywhere, makeup completely ruined, black streaks running down your face.
He cums with a shout, balls pulsing on your cheek where he holds you down. The breaks squeak as he pulls into your shared driveway, ripping you away from his dick. “You look fucking pathetic right now. Trying to get another man’s cock and then gobbling down mine it’s your only purpose.” You can’t find any love in his eyes, only rage and lust. More tears fall down your cheeks.
“B-b-buc-” You try to speak but your voice is hoarse from his cock ramming down your throat.
“Just get upstairs. On the bed, face down, ass up, naked.” If his jaw clenches anymore you’re sure he’ll break some teeth.
“Please, just let me-” He cuts you off again after you’re able to speak.
“Do what I said or else it’s gonna be much worse for you. I don’t take well to insolent whores.” Why can’t you see I need you?
Without another word, you head to the bedroom, trying to wipe away your makeup but only smearing it around even more. You don’t have any more fight left in you. All you want to do is forget the whole night, but you know that it’s nowhere near over. You do as you were told, grabbing the stuffie Bucky won for you at the carnival over a year ago and clutching it to your chest.
You gulp at the sound of Bucky’s clothes dropping to the floor. “Don’t make a sound.” It’s the only warning you get before his hand smacks against your ass, hard. You bite the stuffie, more and more tears falling from your eyes. He slaps your ass over and over again, no doubt leaving bruises. By the end, you’re so deep in subspace that all you want to do is please him.
It doesn’t matter that you don’t want to have sex, that what you want from him is his warmth and comfort. If you make him happy then he will take care of you after. You need to please him, make him proud of you. Just take the punishment. Don’t make him angrier.
Without warning, he slams into your cunt, driving in and out with no regard for your pleasure. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, and you could tell just based on his thrusts. He was using you to get himself off. This is what Jake planned on doing to me, isn’t it? You bite onto the stuffie harder. It hurts, but it feels so good. This is what I deserve.
He cums in your pussy but doesn’t stop moving. The added lubrication makes his thrusts easier and the pleasure starts to build in your stomach. Trying to hide your moans as you near the edge only for him to pull out and slap your ass again and again before railing you again. You try to reach a hand back, maybe to get him to slow down, maybe just because you needed to feel some sort of tenderness, but he only pushes your hand away.
Any thoughts of Jake leave your mind with every plunge of Bucky’s cock. You melt into the mattress, focusing on the pleasure Bucky’s bringing you. He loves me, that’s why he’s so mad. “Fuck, pussy’s so fucking good, never want to leave her. M’going to fuck this little cunt all night if I want to.” Do I want that? It feels so good, but I want him to cuddle me.
You can feel your orgasm build up in your stomach, threatening to burst at any moment. “Can I cum?” It’s the first words you’ve said since he started fucking you. For a fleeting second you think that he’ll pull out again and take your orgasm away, but he only fucks you harder, right hand coming down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. It hurts in the best way, throwing you over the edge as you cream all over his dick.
“Good girl, no one else can make you cum like me, can they?”
Those two words take you right back to the bar, where the threat of what Jake could have done is still fresh. “RED!��� Mid orgasm, your mind reels in fear. Bucky pulls out immediately, all the rage coursing through his body leaving at once. You collapse on the bed, curling into the fetal position, still clutching the stuffed animal to your chest as sobs take over your body.
Bucky shakes as he watches you fall apart. He has no idea what really happened at the bar but he knows that he pushed you too far. He replays every word and act that occurred in the past hour. How he didn’t let you talk, how you looked so small, like you were trying to curl into yourself, how he didn’t even look at you as he shoved his cock down your throat. All the names he called you, the roughness, the lack of care.
He tries to reach out to you, but you jerk away, sobbing harder. Panic swells in his chest. What did he do? How could he hurt the love of his life? Bucky gets off the bed and heads to the bathroom, getting a damp washcloth and walking over to your side of the bed, crouching down so that he is at eye level with you. “Doll?” You whimper in response yet meet his eyes. “Can I clean you up?” You give a small jerk of your head, all you can muster.
Bucky’s heart drops to his stomach as he sees your swollen cunt. He caused that. As gently as he can, he wipes away his cum and your juices before tossing the rag across the room and settling next to you, leaving space so that you can decide if you want to cuddle with him. You crave his warmth so you curl yourself into his side, sighing at the comfort his skin brings.
Self hatred licks at his spine. He wants to run away, not giving himself the chance to do anymore harm, but you need him and he can’t let you down again, not after what he did. Eventually, your sobs ebb and your tense body relaxes. “He tried to drug me.” You say it so quietly that if Bucky didn’t have enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have caught it.
He jolts away, ignoring your whimper at the loss of contact. The morsel of responsibility that was keeping him next to you vanishes. He treated you like a whore, thinking that you were flirting with another man, when in reality you were just trying to keep yourself safe. Bucky stands and paces the room, darker and darker thoughts run through his mind.
“He what?” Bucky can’t breathe, he can’t fathom what he just put you through after one of the worst experiences of your life just happened. You needed him and he wasn’t there in the way you needed.
You try to keep the tears at bay, but you can’t help it. “He slipped something in my drink when he thought I wasn’t looking. I was so scared and you were so far away. I-I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I stalled him long enough I would be okay until you came back.” You shrink into yourself again, the stuffies head tilted at an odd angle at the force you were applying.
“And then I, I let myself, I should have-” He can’t think straight. Anger flairs inside of him. At himself, at the man at the bar. “I’m so sorry.” Tears stream freely down his face as he rounds to where you lay, dropping to his knees.
“Please hold me.” Bucky jumps back into bed, he was fully ready for you to kick him out, hit him, make him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but not for you to want him to touch you again, not after the pain and fear he inflicted. “I just want to be held, want you to love me.”
“I do love you, sweet girl. I love you so goddamn much it hurts. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have listened to you, should have seen how uncomfortable you were, but I was so caught up in my own head, that you were looking for someone else because I wasn’t good enough.” He hastily wipes his tears away before wrapping his arms around your frame. “And that is no excuse for what I did. I let my own insecurities blind me and I hurt you as a result.”
He trails off before speaking the words that he has been too scared to ask before, but he knows the answer to. “You didn’t want to have sex, did you?” It’s framed as a question, but he says it like a statement, because he knows that you didn’t. Not at the time, mostly because of his own rage, but if he would have thought about more than himself he would have.
“I wanted to please you, though. Thought if I took my punishment that you wouldn’t be mad at me anymore.” Bucky feels his heart break in two. You didn’t have to answer his question. His stomach churns at the fact that the only reason you went through with anything was because you thought that you needed to, for him to treat you the way you deserve, with love and devotion.
You don’t blame him, maybe it’s because you still are so deep in subspace, but either way, he’s taking care of you now. “You never have to do something you don’t want to do just because of me. You know that right?” Clearly, he made you feel like you had to.
“Please, it’s not just your fault. I could have tapped your leg three times, I could have said our safeword long before you fucked me.”
“But I didn’t even let you fucking talk.” You see the hurt in his eyes, not at you, but at himself.
“My hands were free. I could have tapped you at any time. This isn’t just on you. We both fucked up.”
“The only reason you didn’t was because you felt like you had to please me though.” Why is he so desperate to put all the blame onto himself?
“Partially, but also because I wanted to forget about what happened. I thought that if we had sex that your touch could wash away his. But when I knew it couldn't, I should have stopped you.” Both of your eyes were red and full of tears. “Neither of us are exempt from the blame, okay?”
Bucky nods his head, not fully believing you, but not wanting to fight about it. “Can we take a bath and cuddle? We can talk about it tomorrow. I just want to be held right now.” With shuddering breath, Bucky nods his head and picks you up, taking you to the bathroom to get the tub ready.
You both have to work to get past this, to understand what you both could have done better to prevent it from happening again, but you still trust Bucky with your life. There is no love or trust lost between the two of you. It happened and you can’t change that. You doubt that you’ll be going to any bars soon, and there’s going to be a lot of trauma that you’ll both have to work through. Him with his insecurities and you with how easy it would have been for someone to take advantage of you, how you didn’t communicate your needs. But you have Bucky and he has you, and he is going to do everything in his power to make this up to you, that this never happens again.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky imagine#bucky smut#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#buck
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comfort — aegon x fem!reader
did anyone else fall victim to season 2 completely changing your viewpoint on aegon? i used to fucking hate this guy. honestly i still hate season 1 aegon. i almost didn't post this because i hate him soooo much. i've chosen to separate season 1 and season 2 aegon because the show and book are works of fiction — but please read with caution. at the end of the day, this is still aegon — and he is still a royal asshole and should very much be locked up in jail.
but like why did season two make me feel bad and want to comfort this fucker like what the fuck
as always, warnings: aegon is a fucking warning, smuuut, aegon has a praise kink, oral sex, p in v sex, aegon is a bit of a meaniehead in this, alcoholism, my own sick and twisted self indulgence because i like swear i could fix him
i refuse to fucking edit and im only slightly sorry
____
“i never wanted to be king..." he mumbled, drinking his wine. "to keep them safe... and for what? for what!?"
your heart fell at his words. it split and shattered into a million pieces, but slowly. the pain was so slow. it froze you — held you in its grasp so the only thing you could do was stare at the king, who sank slowly into his own despair — and also his chair.
you swallowed — unsure of how to proceed.
“more wine, your grace?” you asked, hoping to appear cheerful.
with his back turned, his own answer was his outstretched hand with his goblet in his grasp.
your pour was hefty.
he sighed before he brought his chalice to his lips, taking two gulps of the deep plum liquid. you didn’t want to linger — for you knew the king enjoyed his solitude or the company of a young lady.
you wanted to make haste before he remembered either of the two.
“is there anything else i can do for you, my king?” you asked. “i can fetch you something to eat —“
“no,” he spoke. “i’m not hungry. — sit with me. pour yourself a glass.”
your eyes widened as your clutched the wine. sit — with the king? and share wine? you had never heard of such a thing. you had heard of his crude, and horrible behavior — but not this. definitely not this.
but what else were you to do but obey? nothing. absolutely nothing. you had no choice.
you pulled out the chair, and aegon pulled another glass toward his. the king... retrieved you a glass? you had set the wine down on the table so you could pull your chair out with shaking hands, hoping to keep them steady. aegon, the king, had taken it upon himself to not only get you your own chalice, but also pour wine for you.
gods, you thought. what have i found myself in?
“thank you, my king,” you spoke, settling into your seat. “would it please your grace to drink in silence?”
he tapped his fingers on the top of the table. you could not meet his eyes, for fear of upsetting him. you weren’t sure if you could feel his eyes on you, but you did not want to make the first move.
“the servant girls like you — they do not look at me,” he spoke, taking another swig of his wine. “due to my actions as a boy, no doubt. i must assure you — i am a man now. a king.”
“of course, your grace,” you answered. “we are very lucky to serve you and your family.”
“very lucky…” he scoffed, a sad smile on his face. he was not displeased with you — and you couldn’t place why, but you could tell it was not you. you surmised it was something else. “lucky? to work in this castle? when war brews closer every day?”
you swallowed thickly, unsure of how to proceed. you shouldn’t have. you really shouldn’t have — and you knew it, you could feel it in your bones — but a part of you also knew that it could do some good. maybe not a lot, but at least some. “we know that you would do anything to protect this castle — and the people inside of it, your grace. we are lucky.”
was it a lie? yes. none of the servants believed that they were safe, and those that did — they did not credit aegon. they might credit the webs alicent could weave, aemond’s dragon, or cole’s stones — but not aegon. definitely not aegon. not even aegon gave aegon, himself any credit, for he knew the truth. everyone knew the truth — but where would self pity get the king? where would his low self esteem place you and the small folk? nowhere. absolutely nowhere.
and that’s why you lied.
you lied through your fucking teeth.
you had to lie — for the good of the realm. for the good of the small folk. for your own good.
and what did he do? he laughed.
he fucking laughed.
you weren’t surprised — you knew that he was difficult to reason with, prone to expressions of raw, irrational emotion.
what you didn’t expect was that his laughs turned into tears.
you don’t know why — but you immediately stood.
sitbackdownsitbackdownsitbackdown, someone in your head chided. sitbackdownsitbackdownsitbackdown.
but you didn’t listen. you should’ve listened.
you stood and took a few steps towards the king.
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
your heart pounded in your ears, and soon you though you could feel it rise into your throat. you would’ve choked on it if you had waited any longer to do what you wanted to.
you reached for his hand — not really knowing what you would do if you had successfully intertwined your fingers with his. it didn’t matter — for aegon smacked your hand away. he snapped his head up to look at you, glaring.
he immediately stood from his seat, towering over you. his eyes were ablaze, consumed by anger and threats. his lips were thin in a snarl, having replaced his sadness with aggression.
“you dare touch the king?” he bit, holding you by the wrist.
you gasped as he yanked your arm, a strangled cry leaving your lips. “i wanted to offer comfort, your grace —“
“offer comfort?1” he spat once more, shaking his head in disbelief.
“yes, your grace,” you said softly. “only comfort.”
his eyes took a moment to soften, but when they did… you regretted coming into the room altogether — even if it was your job to serve him. you could have asked someone else. could've, could've, could've.
but then...
oh, then...
a bittersweet taste rested in your mouth once you saw regret, shame, and guilt all swirl within aegon’s purple irises. all three. like three flames, all from one dragon — consuming the very thing before it until there was nothing left. his eyes, once filled with glee, then tears, and then anger, and now this? this? — you didn’t know how to proceed, or if you should at all.
he was the king — but at the end of the day, at the end of it all — he was just a young man.
just a young man.
“i am sorry, your grace,” you whispered, not daring to move. “it won’t — it won’t happen —“
“i am sorry,” he immediately blurted out.
your eyes snapped up to meet his. you seemed to be as surprised to hear his apology as he was to find himself saying it.
he dropped your arm.
“you were kind to me…” he spoke, trailing off — seemingly trying to find the words. he was looking down at you, studying your expression.
you feared the mix of emotions were present on your face, and you were worried how that would affect a safe exit from this situation. “i should not have reached for you, my king, and for that i am —“
“i shouldn’t have lashed out at you,” he interrupted you. “no one has ever…”
he didn’t finish. he couldn’t finish, you realized. and by the look on his face — he knew he couldn’t finish that sentence either.
“it’s alright,” you spoke, and meant it. “i just wanted you to know — you weren’t alone, your grace.”
he didn’t speak. he just… slowly nodded in acknowledgment and in thanks.
you repeated the gesture, curtsied, and left the room.
you did not expect to see the king again — but you also did not ever expect to be called to his chambers in the late hours of the evening.
you grew fearful and weary — what did he want with you? he had never shown interest in you, especially not since the incident a week prior. you avoided him like the stranger, and he most likely was glad for it — or so you thought.
when you entered his chamber, you found him in his night shirt and riding leathers. he was standing in the middle of the room, only illuminated by the burning hearth. the red and orange flames accented the bags under his eyes, and his teeth that were stained with wine.
“you’ve been avoiding me,” he accused suddenly.
that was all he said. small folk like yourself were not trained to… deal with accusations such as that. he was not an equal — he was the fucking king.
“i was embarrassed that i had forgotten my place,” you spoke, curtsying. “my apologies, your grace.”
“your apologies?!” he bit, tossing the empty chalice of wine onto the floor. he stalked towards you with purpose, not stopping until he was inches from your face. “apologies? what good are they if you’ve been in my goddamn head for a week?!”
he was seething then — beyond recognition. consumed by anger, unable to bring himself back to level. his skin was of a flush that suggested emotion — frustration, distrust, betrayal. his eyes, though purple, were bloodshot red. with each word he shouted, spit spewed from his lips and collected at the corners of his mouth.
and then you realized: the king wasn’t angry — he was hurt.
“what is bothering you?” you asked, ignoring his initial question while trying to keep your own resolve level.
“...what?” he demanded, confusion and anger now mixing together in his brow.
“your grace,” you began. “tell me what is wrong.”
he took a step back. his eyebrows knit together as if he didn’t recognize you — didn’t understand why you were here, who you were, or what you could want. distrust was the only thing at the forefront of his gaze, but you knew you had to break that barrier. you knew, you knew, you knew.
this time — he did not flinch when you reached for him. he did not flinch when you pressed a soft, open palm against the side of his tear-stained face. he did not flinch when you stroked your thumb on his cheekbone. he did not flinch when you placed your other hand on his other cheek, and pulled his face down to rest his forehead against yours.
“i will not avoid you again,” you whispered.
he didn’t reply, but you felt him relax against you. you entwined one of his hands with yours, and led him towards the bed.
you discarded your night robes, leaving you in your night shift. aegon watched in awe — and his jaw slightly fell open when you got on the bed, and stretched out your open arms to him.
“join me, my king?”
aegon couldn’t help himself. he glossy eyes raked over your body, barely hidden by your night shift. the cool night air of the castle caused your nipples to harden underneath the linen, leaving your breasts looking supple enough to taste. the outline of your waist and round hips were enough to make his cock stir in his leathers, but he found his hands beginning to shake. fucking delectable he found you. he may have taken off his pants, but it was not to fuck.
aegon, the king of the seven kingdoms, climbed onto the bed and rested on top of you. you wrapped your arms around his mid section as he nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. one of your hands began to tangle itself in his short, wavy locks — forcing aegon to relax in a way that flying, wine, or fucking could never do for him. a sigh of relief left past his lips — one that he didn’t know he was holding, nor one that he thought he was capable of releasing.
you kissed the side of his face, causing emotions to swell within his chest he never experienced before — was never prepared for. if his initial reaction wasn’t to freeze, he would’ve lashed out at you. called you names he didn’t mean. pushed you out of bed in a way he didn’t mean. and never speak to you again in a way he didn’t mean. thankfully, he froze. he froze for long enough that he convinced himself that he could relish in this sweet feeling — even if only for a short while.
“you are so sweet,” he whispered, before drifting off to sleep.
you fell asleep for a short while later, letting yourself enjoy the weight of the prince above you. it calmed a certain anxiety in your chest, and you were selfish with it — hoping to take whatever the king would give.
you felt him stirring on top of you after some time — well into the night, and well into where only hot coals rested in the hearth at the center of the room. they glowed red, but there was not enough heat nor light to reach you and aegon. you held him tighter for warmth, pulling the blanket up over the two of you in the cold darkness.
“surprised you haven’t told me i’m crushing you yet,” he spoke into your neck, breath hot against your skin.
a small laugh died in your throat. “i’m very comfortable, my king.”
you began to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the curls in between your fingers. he hummed at the sensation, obviously enjoying it. one of his hands was dragged up the length from the top of your thigh, to your breast. the fabric of your linen pulled with his hand, but it stopped when his hand found the curve of your breast.
aegon stared at the sweet, delectable looking nipple that was poking through the linen due to the night chill. he held the weight of your breast in his palm, and used his thumb to draw circles on the nub. the roughness of the linen, coupled with the cool sensitivity of your bud, and the rising tension in the air made warmth spread throughout your body. aegon, well… aegon watched you watch his hand. he watched for any sign of displeasure — because he would’ve withdrew. he would’ve withdrew if you did not look as though you would enjoy it if he continued.
“tell me to stop if you wish,” his voice was soft and cautious in the lack of light as he played with your nipple. he would’ve stopped, he so would’ve — but he was hoping so desperately that you would let him wrap his lips around your sensitive nub and suckle, possibly with his other hand between your thighs as he played with your supple folds. “if you tell me to stop, i will stop.”
“…i don’t want you to stop,” you whispered into the darkness, no longer trapped in fear, shyness, or insecurity.
something in aegon’s chest leapt.
through his pink lips, his tongue poked through and wrapped around your sensitive nipple through your night shift. the taste of linen was foreign and strange, but aegon craved to see the look on your face when you felt the combination of the cool air, his warm, wet mouth, and the linen all working together to create the most delicious feeling of friction you had ever felt on such a sensitive area.
and by the look on your face — aegon was right.
aegon grew confident — bold even. selfish. he lightly bit the sensitive nub, causing a sharp intake of breath from you. he chuckled against you — pleased with your frustration in response to his teasing.
“a good king would show equal attention to both breasts, wouldn’t he?” he asked, in between kisses to your nipple. “can i take off your shift and show you?”
“please,” you whispered, shivering with chill and pleasure.
though your shift was opaque and did not leave much to the imagination, aegon could not believe his eyes when he took of your shift. he would burn all shifts if he could — therefore barring you from every covering up your beautiful body. your beautiful, perfect skin caught what light the fire could spare and aegon watched as goosebumps rose on your skin with every pass of his hand. you watched him as he stared at every bit of your front, letting his hands run up and down your body.
"i have never felt anything so soft," he spoke, before leaning his head forward.
he couldn't help himself. how could he? he was the fucking king. he didn't have to waste time with pleasantries. he had your consent, and he had your willingness, and he had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen right before his eyes. he was greedy as he suckled at your breast; pulling and tugging the sensitive nub between his lips and rolling it. he did the same with your other breast, but with his hand. he could play with your breasts all night long if you let him, and he considered asking.
but then... oh, then... then he smelled the faint sweet aroma of your slick building and trying to escape from your lustrous folds in between your thighs.
that had never happened... with a woman he hadn't paid...
your nipple popped from his mouth, and now he played with both nipples in between his thumb and index fingers. you gasped at the sensation — so sensitive. you glanced down at aegon through your thick lashes and flushed cheeks.
he was peacefully smiling — while you were on the cusp of insanity.
"i feel as though i have been neglecting other parts of you," he spoke with a knowing smile. his beautiful eyes were no longer red and teary, but bright and hopeful. "as a good king, will you let me make it up to you?"
"yes," you gasped, trying to fight the urge to rock your hips into him. "please, your grace."
he wasted no time.
he slid down the length of your abdomen and threw your legs over his shoulders. his breath was hot and heavy on your cunt, making you shiver at the juxtaposition of the cool night air. you could hear him humming — pleased — below you as he spread your wet lips. aegon watched as the small flames caught the wetness and let ghosts of past flames dance on your more precious spot.
he couldn't help himself. he licked up the length of your slit.
you immediately threw your head back, gasping. your fingers fisted the silk sheets of aegon's bed, hoping to ground yourself.
you heard a scoff from below you before aegon grabbed one of your hands, and put it on his head. you cooed in response — pleased — before tanging your fingers throughout his strands. he hummed in approval against your clit, making you shiver once more.
"you taste so sweet," he whispered. "like nectar."
he spread your folds before he wrapped his lips around your most sensitive bud, sucking on it. two of his fingers found your leaking hole and pressed in slowly, nudging at the inner wall. your hips were writhing at this point as your head filled with all sorts of nonsense. heat and pleasure and smoke and wine — they curled in your psyche like beings in the water, playing together. aegon was relentless with how he lapped up your juices, greedy for more and more.
he couldn't stop. he wouldn't stop. the way your fingers curled on his scalp — scratching and soothing — was all of the encouragement he needed to keep going. he let your writhing hips work on his face. a good king would never deny a lady the extra friction she needed to reach her peak. your peak. all he wanted to do was bring you to your peak so he could see the fucked out look on your face. he wanted it so badly he began to dig his own his against the silk sheets, cock straining to find any sort of relief. he was beginning to grow feverish, which only inspired him to work a your faster and messier. he wanted your climax. he had earned your climax.
"'m so close," you whined. "'m so close, my king. please don't stop... please..."
he found himself pushing a third finger in, demanding your orgasm from you. that orgasm was no longer yours — but something he could give and also take from you. you would experience it, but it would be his. his win. his glory. his trophy.
and when your hips snapped up... he knew he had you.
he slammed your hips down onto the bed to keep you from moving — keep you from moving away from his tongue. his tongue was relentless in the way it continued its work on your clit as you came. you shoved your head into the pillow as all of your muscles went taut, letting wave after wave after wave after wave crash over you and pull you under. you were gasping for air, twisting and turnin away from aegon as the sensitivity became so much. too much. bittersweet, making you push him away but wanting to pull him towards you.
he ripped himself from you when he was finished, your juices flowing still caught on his chin. through your post-orgasm haze and half closed eyes, you watched him through your half-closed eyelids. there, aegon stood over you, fisting his cock over your body.
"inside me, your grace," you whispered. "please."
that was all aegon needed. with one swoop, his cock had bested the threshold of your cunt. his lips found one of your breasts, suckling on the nipple, as he began thrusting his length inside of you.
your hands found the back of his head, pulling at the roots of his hair. your small gasps were music to his ears as he rocked his hips against yours, chasing his high.
"you're so good, aegon..." you whined at the feeling of aegon taking every sensitive area for his own. "so sweet..."
his heart strings were pulling at her words as a flush reached his cheeks. he was not embarrassed, no — he was encouraged. a woman — a perfect, beautiful, and supple woman lay before him and begged for his touch. for his caress. for the pleasure he could bring her — the both of them. she held him so close to her breast as he fucked his cock into her. the intimacy of the position had awakened something carnal in him; something sick and twisted that wanted more, and more, and more.
"that's it... just like that..." you spoke. "take what you need, my sweet. you're so good..."
his hips were beginning to stir at your words, foreign to his ears. he was rutting into you like an animal now at your praise, sure to leave bruises on your breasts by the sunrise.
"all yours..."
fuck. fuck. fuck.
he didn't know what to do.
it had never crept up on him so fast.
a blush was rising to his cheeks he had not known since his first orgasm. an exasperated gasp was rising and falling in his throat, ready to escape and fill the room.
"so good for me," were your final words.
aegon came with a sob. a fucking sob. he snapped his hips twice into your sopping wet cunt before his balls tightened, tightened, and tightened — shooting whatever he could into you. thick, hot, white ropes decorated the inside of your cunt in the most pathetic and desperate manner. his hips continued to rut his spend into you, desperate for his release. you could hear his whines and cries in your ear, working himself through his own orgasm as your sweet words of praise guided him to where he needed to be.
"that's it, sweetheart," you spoke against his ear, causing him to shiver. "you're just so good for me, my king."
all he needed was a bit of comfort.
____
comments and critiques plz :P <3 xox - L
#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen ii#aegon the second#aegon ii#aegon ii targaryen#king aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd aegon#hotd s2#house of targaryen#house of the dragon#house targaryen#aegon smut#aegon fic#aegon imagine#aegon angst#aegon love#aegon comfort#aegon sad
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Picking Sides
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Cas & Winchester sister, Jody & Winchester sister, Mary & Winchester sister (all obviously platonic)
Synopsis: you get in a fight with Mary, and when Sam and Dean take sides you go to find someone to be on your side.
Warnings: feelings of abandonment, angst with a happy ending
You were hiding again. These days, it felt like you were always hiding. The bunker used to feel like home, but that home got smaller and smaller until the only place that truly felt like a sanctuary was your bedroom.
It didn’t feel fair to think that the arrival of your brothers’ mom took away your home, but that’s how you felt nonetheless. You wanted to be happy for them more than anything—your big brothers were everything to you, and they got back someone they had lost, someone they loved.
But that someone just so happened to look at you and see only the result of her husband with another woman. You knew it had to hurt—from her memory, it must feel like she’d last seen John only months ago, even though it had been over twenty years. So seeing his daughter—the one he had with another woman—being treated like family by her boys…that had to hurt. You understood that hurt, and you felt sorry for Mary because of it. But what you didn’t understand was why she had to make you hurt with her. Maybe she didn’t mean to—you couldn’t believe the worst about Sam and Dean’s mom, you just couldn’t—but it felt like she never wanted you there. And that disdain was starting to affect Sam and Dean. They could tell when their mom wasn’t happy, and it put them on edge. Because of that, tensions just kept rising until finally you decided that hiding out away from the common areas was best for everyone when Mary was around.
This strategy worked out well back when Mary wasn’t around much, but she’d been hanging around the bunker a lot more now, and it just wasn’t working. You couldn’t be in your room all the time, but any time you bumped into Mary the two of you seemed to get into a fight about something. Today was no different.
You only ventured out to get some food from the kitchen—but of course Mary had to be there.
“Where have you been?” She questioned, though she kept her voice low.
“Just my room,” you mumbled as you started to assemble a sandwich.
“The boys could’ve used your help, you know. They’re doing a lot of research.”
“I’ve got a laptop, I’m doing my own research.” You tried not to sound too snarky, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it came out that way…just a little.
“Well it would make things a lot easier if you’d join the group,” Mary chided. At this, you scoffed—you couldn’t help it.
“Like you even want me as part of the family,” you challenged.
“I said group, not family. You’re not family,” she insisted, her tone still neutral and her voice still low. Something about her trying to keep this horrible conversation nice and quiet just made you want to scream it all the louder. Unfortunately, you did it at the wrong moment.
“Says the one who hasn’t been here for twenty years! Don’t pretend you’re more of a family to Sam and Dean than I am!”
“Hey now!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your anger for a split second, and turned it to shock—you didn’t know he was so nearby. “That’s enough!” He directed his anger towards you—of course he hadn’t heard Mary’s words.
“But I was just—“ you began, but Dean didn’t let you get far.
“I don’t care what you were doing, I heard enough! Now I think you should go to your room.”
You took a deep breath, desperate to tell your side.
“But you didn’t hear—“
“I heard enough!” Dean was yelling now, and his sudden rise in anger had you taking a surprised step back. “Now go to your room! You’ve done enough damage.”
“B-but De—“
“I said go! And don’t you come out. I’ll come get you when I think you’ve had enough time to think about what kind of consequence your words have. Go!”
It wasn’t often that Dean looked so tall—he was always the “short one” compared to Sam. But now—looming over you like the shadow of a mountain, nothing but anger written on his features—no one had ever looked bigger, and you had never felt smaller. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pathetic, you felt tears start to prick behind your eyes. You twisted around and ran for your room before Dean could see them.
You made sure you were well behind your door with the lock in place before you felt safe enough to let the tears fall.
…
Mary was silent as she watched you run. There was a cacophony of thoughts banging around in her head, and it was so distracting that it took a moment for her to hear Dean talking to her.
“Mom? Mom?” Dean was right in front of her when she finally snapped out of it. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on with her lately, but she shouldn’t have said that to you. I’ll talk to her.”
But Mary didn’t want that. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Ever since she had learned about your existence, she had felt almost in competition with you. Somehow, you being the result of John’s relationship with another woman made Mary feel as though you were somehow responsible for it, or complacent with it. Deep down she knew that that was wrong, but she couldn’t help the feelings. So instead, she had been justifying them, and using those feelings as an excuse for how she was trying to win the boys’ affection over you.
But just now, she had seen you for what you really were—not competition for her sons’ affections, not some sick reminder of John’s love being given to someone else taunting her; no. She had seen a scared little girl being rejected and reprimanded by her big brother and father figure, and it had been Mary’s fault.
“No, Dean…” Mary sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that. She didn’t deserve it.”
Dean was confused. “But she—“
“I said some things to her that…well, let’s just say I deserved what she said. I mean it Dean, I screwed up, not her.”
Dean looked torn for a moment—after all, the only part he had heard were some awful words on your part—but then the scene replayed in his mind, and he saw you; your hands were shaking, your lip was quivering, and Dean had just kept on yelling.
“Oh man,” Dean sighed. “I need to talk to her.”
…
You didn’t let the tears fall long before you made a decision; you couldn’t stay here. You could deal with Mary not wanting you here, but you couldn’t deal with your brothers choosing her over you. That was the last straw.
You had a bag packed far too quickly, and you found yourself lingering in your room, trying to find an excuse not to go. This was your home—you didn’t want to leave.
Then an image of Dean screaming at you flashed in your mind—
“I said go! And don’t you come out.”
This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—it couldn’t. Dean had picked Mary over you, and it would only get worse. You had to go.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and went straight for the door.
“Hey.” Sam’s voice broke your stride for a moment, but you didn’t stop. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Out for a walk,” you huffed.
“I thought Dean told you to stay in your room,” Sam challenged. You froze for a moment.
“You heard?” You asked, hope sparking in the back of your mind. Maybe Sam would be on your side!
“Not everything,” Sam admitted. “But enough. I think you should stay in your room.”
Disappointment didn’t begin to cover what hit you then—Sam, taking Mary’s side too, without even knowing the whole story!
“And I think you should mind your own business,” you grumbled, going out and slamming the door behind you.
…
There was a cab waiting for you—you’d called one while you were packing—so you were already being carried away from the bunker by the time Sam followed you out the door.
The cab took you as far as the bus station, and from there you got on the first bus that would take you to Sioux Falls—to Jody.
You’d been praying to Cas since you’d left, but he must’ve been busy in heaven or something, because he hadn’t come. So Jody’s it was.
…
“I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Jody’s greeting when you arrived on her doorstep was less than conventional.
“What?” You questioned as she let you into the living room.
“Your brothers have been calling me every ten minutes for the past two hours, hoping you’d find your way over here. They’re worried about you.”
“I don’t know why,” you muttered under your breath, but Jody caught it.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Those boys worry over you like mother hens, they always have.”
“Not lately,” came your dull response. “Lately Mary’s more important.”
“Hey, now that isn’t fair,” Jody argued. “They just got her back from the dead. Just because their attention is a little divided—“
“It’s not that.” You huffed. “She doesn’t want me around. And they’re starting to take her side. They used to treat me like their sister, and now they…” you cleared your throat, blinking fast suddenly. “And now they treat me like…just John’s illegitimate kid. And I know that’s what I am, I just…I never felt it before.”
“Wait, kid…” Jody sighed, her hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders. “Kid, that is not who you are. You are so much more than that, and I’m sure if we talk to Sam and Dean, they’ll—“
“No,” you insisted, starting to panic. “I don’t want to talk to them right now, I just can’t. Please, you can’t tell them I’m here.”
“They’re gonna call again,” Jody said.
“You can’t—“
“Y/N.” You were interrupted by a flutter of wings and the deep voice of your favorite angel. “I heard you, what’s wrong?”
“Cas.” Your panic ebbed as you lurched forwards and wrapped your arms around Castiel. He held you close, quick to ask again—
“What’s wrong, what happened?”
“She ran away,” Jody spoke up. “Problems with Mary.”
“Oh, little one…” Cas sighed. “You—“
“Don’t tell me to go back!” You said as you pulled away from Cas. “You haven’t been here, you don’t know what it’s been like!”
“They’re your brothers,” Cas argued.
“But they don’t want to be. They want their legitimate family, and I’m not gonna get in the way anymore.”
“Hey.” Cas bent down to better look at you. “What makes you say that?”
“They just took her side.” You found it suddenly hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “De just-just took her side without even asking me what happened. He screamed at me, I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so angry before. He wanted me to go away, so-so I went. And Sammy didn’t even know what happened either, but he took her side too!”
“What did happen?” Cas asked gently.
You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Cas reached down and hooked his fingers under your chin, tilting your downturned head up to look at him.
“It matters to me.”
Your lip was quivering and your hands were shaking by the time the first tears fell.
“She said that I’m not family. I mean I-I always knew she didn’t want me around, but…” you swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears. “But she’s never been this mean before. She said I’m not family, Cas. And Sam and Dean took her side.”
“They agreed with her?” Cas’s face was scrunched slightly in confusion.
“N-no,” you admitted. “But when I tried to argue with her, Dean yelled at me.”
“You should talk to them,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”
“I don’t want to talk to them. Cas, please,” you pleaded.
“Alright, alright,” Cas relented. He was going to make you talk it out with your brothers…later. Right now you were too angry, too hurt. You just needed someone you could trust, and Cas would be that for you for as long as you needed before he could fix your relationship with your brothers.
“They’re going to keep calling,” Jody spoke up.
“Don’t answer, please,” you begged.
“Then they’ll just come here,” Jody said.
“I’ll talk to them if you don’t want to,” Cas said. “Please let me talk to them. I know we can fix this.”
You were silent for a moment, letting yourself process before you spoke.
“I don’t want to see them right now.”
“Then you won’t,” Cas promised. “Just let me talk to them.”
“Ok,” you sighed after another long moment. “But…Cas? Can you…will you…please just don’t take their side,” you pleaded. “Maybe it’s not fair to ask, I just…I just need someone on my side.”
“I’m on your side,” Cas assured you. “Always.”
…
“They’re here.” Jody’s announcement had you more nervous than you thought you’d be. The fear that Dean might yell at you again—this time for running away and disobeying him—was suddenly very real.
It was weird to be afraid of your big brother; it was unnatural for you. But you couldn’t get the image of him screaming at you out of your head, neither could you get the feelings it gave you to go away.
“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts to see Cas standing in front of you. “I’m going to go talk to them, alright?”
You glanced out the window, hoping the sight of your big brothers might somehow give you a different—better—memory to focus on. Instead, you saw a third figure exiting the Impala with the boys; Mary.
“They brought Mary.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, but still Cas heard and turned to look out the window.
“I’m going to talk to them,” he repeated, only this time his tone was devoid of comfort and filled with rage.
…
“You should wait in the car.” Cas directed his order at Mary, who looked taken aback.
“I came to—“
“If you value your immediate safety, do what I said.”
Mary retreated to the Impala without another word.
“What was that?” Dean demanded. He hadn’t heard Cas talk like that in long time—unless it was to a demon.
“Don’t question me,” Castiel barked. “Not after what you did. And especially not after you brought her—“ Castiel gestured towards the impala, where Mary was waiting— “here. Do you know what she said to your little sister?”
“I don’t—“ Dean began, but Castiel interrupted him.
“No, you don’t, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t get her side, you just yelled at her.”
“And I’m trying to fix it,” Dean said.
“Well she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Castiel crossed his arms in front of him, all but blocking the doorway. “You did that, Dean. Your own little sister is too scared to talk to you, because she thinks you’ll yell at her again. She thinks you’ll pick Mary over her—again.”
“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleaded. “I want to tell her I’m sorry. Just let me talk to her.”
“I already told you—she doesn’t want to.” Cas left no room for argument.
“Look,” Dean sighed. “Just tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her—“
“Tell her I’m sorry.” Both Dean and Cas turned at the sound of Mary’s voice as she stepped out of the Impala. “Please Castiel. Tell her I was wrong, and that I’m sorry.”
Cas stared at Mary long and hard before seemingly coming to a decision.
“Come with me.” Cas led them into Jody’s house, but stopped them firmly in the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to go talk to her.”
Cas’s departure brought silence into the house for several long seconds.
“Do you mean it?” Dean’s sudden question threw Mary for a moment.
“What?”
“The apology. Do you mean it? Because on the off chance that she actually lets us in there, and you get to say that apology, you’ve gotta mean it, because she’s going to know.”
Mary was silent for a moment.
“I do mean it. Look, things have been…hard for me. I know to you guys, your father had years to mourn me before your little sister happened. But for me—it feels like I just woke up, and suddenly I find out my husband had a child with another woman. It feels so wrong; but I know that it isn’t Y/N’s fault, and I know that I was wrong to blame her for it. And I see how close the two of you boys are to her—and how close she is to you; that’s going to have to be enough for me. So yes, I do mean my apology—I truly was wrong.”
“Ok.” Your voice startled mother and son, who both whirled to face you.
“Ok?” Mary asked tentatively.
“Well, no,” you amended. “It’s not ok. But I do forgive you.”
“Understood,” Mary said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “And thank you.”
“Things can’t stay the same,” you continued. “I can’t be treated like an outsider in my own family anymore.”
“I understand that too,” Mary promised. “Things will change—I will change them—I promise.”
“Ok then.” You sighed, your eyes flickering over to Dean. The silence went from contemplative to awkward very quickly.
“I’m going to go wait in the car,” Mary said quietly, slipping out the front door to give you and Dean some private time.
“That went well,” Dean said awkwardly.
“Don’t make jokes,” you commanded.
“I’m sorry.”
“You hurt me.” You forced your gaze not to waver as you confronted your big brother. “Not just because you yelled at me; because you picked her side without even listening to me. It was like I didn’t even matter.”
“Y/N—“
“No. It’s my turn now. It’s not just Mary that has to make things better at the bunker. I-I can’t live with being walked over or ignored because you guys choose her. I know she’s your mom, and I would never, ever ask you to choose me over her. But she would, and she has. And you’ve picked her. And that hurts, De.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, but you refused to let that stop you. “It really, really hurts.”
“Sweetheart…” you were in Dean’s arms before you could even think about protesting—not that you wanted to. It felt like it had been forever since his arms had been around you—since you had felt so truly at home. “N/N I’m so, so sorry. I’m not gonna let that happen again, ever. Even if Mary goes back on her promise, and she doesn’t change things, I will. I’m not gonna let anybody walk over you again. You’re important to me—I’m never going to let anyone tell me to choose someone over you, never. I know that doesn’t take back what I did—what I said to you—but…but can you forgive me anyway?”
Your grip tightened on Dean, and he didn’t try to pull away.
“Of course I forgive you.”
“So…” you let Dean pull away from you, but he kept hold of your hands. “So you’ll come home? Sammy’s waiting with some ice cream and another apology for you.”
You giggled, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks.
“Yeah. Yeah I’ll come home.”
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee
#the winchesters#dean winchester#dean and sam#supernatural dean#sam winchester#winchesters x sister#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#winchesters x reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x little sister#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x sister#sam winchester x little sister#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x you#spn sam winchester#supernatural sam winchester#sam x sister!reader#supernatural
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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade
Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho
A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.
Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.
You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.
Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.
“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.
A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.
Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.
Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.
You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.
“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”
“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment.
“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”
“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”
“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”
“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”
“That is horrible advice, Ben.”
“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room
Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.
He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.
It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.
“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.
“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”
This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.
“That was very kind of you to help her with.”
“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.
“Lady L/N may I be frank?”
“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.
“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?”
“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”
“About what?”
“Our first meeting My Lord.”
“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.
“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.
Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.
“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”
Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”
“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.
“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.
Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.
Part 2
#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#x reader#fanfic#bridgerton fanfiction#plus size reader#plus size!reader#drabble#requests open#requests wanted#bridgerton
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Am I Still Me? ❀
f1 grid x fem!reader, charles leclerc x fem!reader
wc: 6.6k+
summary: the aftermath of y/n’s horrible crash in suzaka, part 2 to ready, set, suzuka!!
warnings: cussing, angsty, sad, kinda depressing ig, emotional and physical trauma
authors note: sorry i took so long with this, honestly didn’t know what to write 😭💀, also if you get some of the references i put in here and characters names you a real one!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!
PART 1
f1 masterlist
The beeping of machines, the sterile smell of antiseptic, the distant murmurs of nurses and doctors—it all blurs together into a foggy haze. When you finally open your eyes, it’s like surfacing from a deep, dark ocean. The light is too bright, the sounds too sharp. Your body feels heavy, achingly so, and it takes a moment for the fog to clear enough for you to remember why you're here.
The Japan Grand Prix. The crash. The pain.
Your vision focuses slowly, revealing the worried faces of your parents, sitting by your bedside. Your mother's eyes are red-rimmed, and your father's face is etched with concern. When they see you awake, relief floods their expressions.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re awake.”
You try to speak, but your throat is dry and scratchy. Your dad quickly offers you a sip of water, helping you take small, careful sips.
“How long…?” you manage to croak out, your voice barely more than a whisper.
“About a week,” he replies gently. “They had you in an induced coma to help your body heal.”
You try to take in the information, but your mind is sluggish, struggling to process it all. You notice the casts on your left leg, the bandages wrapped around your torso. Every breath sends a dull ache through your ribs.
“Your injuries were severe,” your mom says softly, as if reading your thoughts. “The doctor said you had a punctured lung and liver, three broken ribs, a laceration to your kidney, and broken femur and tibia in your left leg. The doctors… they did everything they could.”
The gravity of her words sinks in slowly. You close your eyes, tears escaping, feeling the weight of your injuries, the immense road to recovery ahead.
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The days blur together, filled with endless medical procedures and physical therapy sessions. The pain is constant, a relentless companion that gnaws at your resolve. The physical therapy is grueling, each session pushing your body to its limits. Your left leg, encased in a cast, feels like it’s made of lead. The simplest movements send waves of pain through you.
Your parents are always there, their support unwavering, but you can see the toll it’s taking on them. They try to hide it, but you notice the way your mother’s hands tremble when she thinks you’re not looking, or the way your father’s shoulders sag with exhaustion.
It’s not just the physical pain that wears you down. The psychological toll is immense. The fear, the uncertainty—it’s all-consuming. The thought of never racing again haunts you, a dark cloud that looms over every waking moment.
Despite their best efforts, the doctors and therapists can’t hide the reality from you. Your injuries are severe, and the road to recovery is long and uncertain. There are no guarantees that you’ll ever be able to race again.
A few weeks into your recovery, your finally allowed visitors, you receive a visit from Max. He enters the room with a tentative smile, looking unsure of how to approach you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft. “How are you holding up?”
You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’ve been better,” you admit, your voice tinged with bitterness.
Max sits beside your bed, his expression serious. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through,” he says. “But I want you to know that we’re all here for you. Whatever you need.”
You nod, grateful for his words but unable to shake the feeling of despair that clings to you. “Thanks, Max,” you say quietly. “It means a lot.”
He stays for a while, chatting about the latest races and team developments, trying to lift your spirits. But when he leaves, the emptiness returns, heavier than before.
Lewis visits next, his brotherly presence a comforting balm. He’s always been a source of inspiration and comfort for you, and seeing him now brings a glimmer of hope.
“Hey Y/N/N,” he says warmly, enveloping you in a gentle hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
You manage a weak smile. “Thanks for coming, Lew.”
He sits with you, sharing stories and offering words of encouragement. “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he tells you. “If anyone can come back from this, it’s you.”
His words touch you deeply, but the doubts still linger.
George's visit is bittersweet. He’s always been like a brother to you, and seeing his concern is both comforting and heartbreaking.
“Hey, Y/N/N,” he says softly, his eyes filled with worry. “How are you holding up?”
You shrug, trying to mask your frustration. “Some days are better than others.”
He takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “I know it’s tough, but you’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you.”
You nod, but the words feel hollow. The reality of your situation is a heavy burden, one that seems to grow with each passing day.
Lando brings a burst of energy into your room, his usual cheeky grin tempered by concern. “Hey, superstar,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re looking better than I expected.”
You chuckle, appreciating his attempt to make you laugh. “Thanks, Lando. I guess I clean up well.”
He spends the visit telling you funny stories and trying to distract you from your pain. For a brief moment, you almost forget about your troubles. But when he leaves, the emptiness returns with a vengeance.
Oscar visit is quieter, more introspective. He’s always been a man of few words, and today is no different.
“Y/N/N,” he says, his voice gentle. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
“Thanks, Oscar,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sits beside you, his presence a comforting anchor. “So…what do you wanna talk about?,” he says simply.
You look at him surprised, “What do I want to talk about?”
“Yea, what did you want to talk about” he says softly.
“You're not going to tell me that “You're strong, you’ve got this, you're gonna overcome this” you say indifferently.
He shakes his head saying “Nope.”
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I'm pretty sure everyone else who visited you has said the same thing, so I want to know what you want to talk about. Any good shows you’ve been watching? Hospital drama? Yes, no, maybe? Tell me I wanna know” he says gently.
You smile at him, greatly appreciating the normalcy his bring. You smile saying, “Did you bring food?”
He smirks, laughing “Yes I brought you y/f/f.”
You squeal, happy to have some outside food, the hospital starting to bore you. “Yes, there is some hospital drama. Apparently a resident has been sleeping with a neurosurgeon, and get this, he was married the whole time! And he didn’t tell her until his wife showed up last night for a case!” you say opening your bag of food.
Oscar looks at you in shock, “No way! Holy shit! Tell me more!”
Charles visit is the hardest. He’s always been your closest friend on the circuit, and seeing the pain in his eyes is almost too much to bear.
“Y/N/N,” he says, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“Charles,” you say, reaching out to take his hand. “It’s not your fault.”
He nods, but you can see the guilt etched into his features. “I know but I still feel like I should’ve been there for you earlier,” he says quietly.
“You were,” you reply, your voice firm. “And you still are.”
He stays with you for a long time, his presence a comforting reminder of the bond you share. But even his support can’t chase away the shadows that cling to your mind.
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One particularly difficult day, you’re in the middle of a grueling physical therapy session. The pain in your left leg is excruciating, and every movement feels like a battle. You’re sweating, gasping for breath, and on the verge of tears.
“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice trembling with frustration and pain. “It’s too hard.”
Your physical therapist, a kind but firm woman named Maria, looks at you with sympathy. “I know it’s hard, Y/N,” she says gently. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’ve come so far already. Don’t give up now.”
You want to believe her, but the doubts are overwhelming. The thought of never racing again haunts you, a constant shadow that refuses to be dispelled.
“I’m worried about her, Y/F/N,” your mom says, her voice thick with worry. “She’s losing hope.”
“I know,” he replies, his voice equally troubled. “We need to do something.”
The next day, they call a meeting with all the drivers who have visited you. They gather together like a small conference room, their faces etched with concern.
“Thank you all for coming,” your dad begins, his voice serious. “We wanted to talk to you about Y/N. She’s struggling, and we need your help.”
Your mom nods, her eyes filled with tears. “She’s losing hope, and we’re afraid she’s going to give up. We need you to remind her of the fighter she is, to help her see that she can get through this.”
Lewis, George, Lando, Oscar, Max, and Charles exchange worried glances, their expressions serious. They all care deeply about you, and the thought of you giving up is unbearable.
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Lewis says firmly. “We’re not going to let her give up.”
The others nod in agreement, their resolve clear. They begin to plan regular visits, phone calls, and messages of encouragement, determined to lift your spirits and help you see the light at the end of the tunnel.
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The next few weeks bring a steady stream of visitors. Max is the first to arrive, his usual confidence tempered by concern.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, sitting beside your bed. “I brought you something.”
He hands you a small box, and when you open it, you find a miniature model of your race car. “I thought it might help you remember what you’re fighting for,” he says quietly.
You smile, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Max. It means a lot.”
Lewis is next, bringing a stack of racing magazines and a collection of your favorite movies. “I thought you could use some entertainment,” he says with a smile.
George brings a scrapbook filled with photos and memories from your racing career. “I want you to remember how far you’ve come,” he says softly.
Lando arrives with a box of your favorite snacks and a playlist of uplifting songs. “Music always helps me when I’m feeling down,” he says with a grin.
Oscar arrives with a stack of books, his quiet presence a calming balm. “I know you love to read,” he says simply. “I thought these might help you pass the time.”
Charles comes last, bringing a framed photo of the two of you celebrating after a race. “I want you to remember all the good times we’ve had,” he says softly. “And all the ones we still have ahead of us.”
Their visits bring a small measure of comfort, but the road to recovery remains daunting. The physical pain is relentless, and the psychological toll is equally severe. There are days when you feel like giving up, when the thought of never racing again is too much to bear.
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Today was another day of physical therapy, the room was sterile, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the rows of equipment in the physical therapy room. You sat on the padded bench, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead. Your physical therapist, Maria, stood in front of you, her expression firm yet encouraging.
"Alright, Y/N, we're going to try to put a little more weight on your leg today," Maria said, her voice gentle but insistent. "You’re making great progress, but we need to push a bit more."
You nodded mechanically, gritting your teeth. The pain was a constant, gnawing presence in your leg, a cruel reminder of the crash that had shattered more than just your bones. You took a deep breath and tried to stand, but the agony was immediate and overwhelming. You crumpled back onto the bench, gasping.
"Come on, Y/N, you can do this," Maria urged. "Just one more try."
Something inside you snapped. The relentless pain, the frustration, the overwhelming sense of loss—everything boiled to the surface. You exploded.
"NO! NO! NO! I CAN'T DO THIS!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls. "I CAN'T! IT HURTS! I'M IN PAIN! AND DON'T YOU TELL ME YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOU DON'T! YOU HAVEN'T LOST THE ABILITY TO WALK! YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TOLD YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO DO THE ONE THING THAT GAVE PURPOSE TO YOUR LIFE!"
The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Maria's face paled, and she took a step back, her hands raised in a placating gesture.
"Y/N, I—" she began, but you cut her off.
"Just please, take me to my room," you said, your voice breaking. "I can't do this anymore."
Maria hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she said softly. She turned to call a nurse. "Please take Y/N back to her room."
The nurse arrived within minutes, her face a mask of professional concern. She helped you into a wheelchair and wheeled you down the long, sterile corridors back to your room. The journey was a blur, the walls closing in on you, each turn of the wheel a reminder of your limitations.
Once inside your room, you pushed yourself onto the bed, curling up into a ball. The nurse lingered for a moment, her eyes filled with sympathy.
"Do you need anything, Y/N?" she asked quietly.
"No," you muttered. "Just leave me alone."
The nurse nodded and exited, closing the door softly behind her. The silence that followed was deafening. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of despair settle over you. The hours dragged by, each second a reminder of the future that felt increasingly out of reach.
You heard the faint knock on the door but didn’t respond. You knew it was someone coming to check on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The knocks continued throughout the day, but you ignored them all.
You didn’t eat, didn’t speak, didn’t move. The room grew darker as the hours passed, the light outside fading into night. The pain in your leg was nothing compared to the ache in your heart, the sense of hopelessness that had settled in like a lead weight.
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Nights like this are the hardest. The darkness magnifies your fears, turning whispers of doubt into deafening roars. It’s one of those nights now, the kind where sleep seems impossible. The weight of your injuries and the uncertainty of your future press down on you like a suffocating blanket.
A soft knock on your hospital door interrupts your spiral of despair. It’s Charles, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. He steps inside quietly, his eyes searching yours with concern.
“Hey,” he says softly, pulling up a chair next to your bed. “I heard what happened, thought I’d check on you.”
You manage a weak smile, but it quickly fades. “Thanks for coming,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I’m not great company right now.”
He takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to be. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, the weight of your shared pain filling the room. Then, the dam breaks.
“I don’t know how to do this, Charles,” you confess, your voice trembling. “Every day feels like a battle, and I’m so tired. I’m scared I’ll never race again. Racing is everything to me. It’s my passion, my dream. And now… I feel like it’s slipping away.”
Tears stream down your face, and Charles moves closer, wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out all the pain and frustration you’ve been holding in. His embrace is warm and strong, a safe haven in your storm of emotions.
“I know,” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I know how much racing means to you. It’s not fair what’s happened. It’s not fair that you’re hurting like this.”
You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. You can see the tears there too, the raw pain he’s been holding back. “Charles, I feel like my life is over. If I can’t race… what’s the point? It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Without it, I don’t know who I am.”
He cups your face in his hands, his eyes filled with determination and love. “Y/N, you are so much more than a racer. You’re strong, and brave, and passionate. You’ve touched so many lives, including mine. This injury doesn’t define you. You do.”
You shake your head, the weight of despair still heavy on your heart. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I can never race again?”
Charles’s grip on you tightens, his voice firm but gentle. “Then we’ll find a new dream, together. But I believe in you, Y/N. I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve overcome so much already. Don’t give up now.”
His words pierce through the fog of your despair, lighting a small spark of hope. “But what if I fail? What if I can’t come back from this?”
Charles’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce resolve. “Then I’ll be there to catch you, every step of the way. We’ll face it together, no matter what. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.”
The sincerity in his voice, the unwavering support in his eyes, brings fresh tears to your eyes. “Charles, I’m so scared.”
“I know,” he whispers, his own tears falling freely now. “And it’s okay to be scared. But don’t let fear steal your dreams. We’ll fight this, one day at a time.”
You lean into him, your hearts beating in sync as you cry together, the shared pain and love binding you closer than ever. In his arms, you find a flicker of hope, a reason to keep fighting.
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The next day your parents come in, their expressions filled with concern. They sit on either side of your bed, each taking one of your hands.
“Y/N,” your mother says softly, her voice filled with emotion. “We know you’re going through a lot. But we’re here for you, every step of the way.”
Your father nods, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring. “You’re not alone in this. We’re all rooting for you. And so are your friends.”
You nod, but the doubts still linger. The thought of facing another day of pain and struggle is almost too much to bear.
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It’s been five miserable and grueling months in the hospital. You’ve improved a lot, the doctors say but you just feel like you're stuck in limbo, going nowhere. Today you receive a surprise visit from all the drivers at once. Lewis, George, Lando, Oscar, Max, and Charles fill your room, their presence a comforting reminder of the support you have.
“Hey, superstar,” Lando says with a grin. “We’ve got a little surprise for you.”
He hands you a small box, and when you open it, you find a collection of letters and messages from fans all over the world. Each one is filled with words of encouragement and support, reminding you of the impact you’ve had on so many lives.
You feel a lump in your throat as you read through the letters, each one a reminder of why you started racing in the first place. The passion, the thrill, the joy—it’s all still there, buried beneath the pain and fear.
“We’re not going to let you give up,” Max says firmly. “You’re one of the strongest people we know. And we believe in you.”
Lewis nods, his expression serious. “You’ve overcome so much already. This is just another challenge, and we know you can get through it.”
George takes your hand, his eyes filled with determination. “We’re here for you, Y/N/N. Every step of the way.”
The others nod in agreement, their support unwavering. In that moment, you feel a flicker of hope, a small but growing light in the darkness.
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As the days fly by, the recovery process grinds on. The physical and psychiatric therapy sessions remain grueling, one pushing your body to its limits and the other peeling back layers of fear and doubt you didn't even know existed. You're forced to confront not just the physical pain, but the emotional turmoil of possibly losing the one thing that has defined you for so long: racing.
“Tell me about your fears, Y/N,” Dr. Yang, your therapist, prompts gently during one of your sessions.
You take a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat. “I’m terrified that I’ll never be the same again,” you admit. “Racing was everything to me. It was my passion, my identity. What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m not...me?”
Dr. Yang nods, her eyes full of understanding. “It’s natural to feel that way. But remember, you’re more than just a driver. You have other strengths, other passions.”
You shake your head, frustration bubbling up. “But I don’t want to be anyone else. I don’t know how to be anyone else. Racing was my life. Without it, I feel...lost.”
Dr. Yang leans forward, her voice soft but firm. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience, Y/N. It’s okay to feel lost right now. But this is also an opportunity to discover new parts of yourself, to grow in ways you never imagined.”
The thought of having to reinvent yourself is daunting. The stress and anxiety of not being able to race again loom large, casting long shadows over your recovery. Each day is a battle against these fears, a struggle to hold onto the hope that you can still find a way back to the track.
Each therapy session, both physical and psychiatric, feels like an uphill battle. The pain, both physical and emotional, is relentless, and the progress often feels painfully slow.
During one particularly tough session, you break down. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you sob, the tears streaming down your face. “I don’t know if I can ever be the Y/N I used to be.”
Dr. Yang sits quietly for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. “You’re right,” she says finally. “You might never be the same Y/N you were before the accident. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find a new version of yourself, one who is just as strong and passionate, even if in different ways.”
Her words strike a chord, the truth of them both painful and liberating.
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One day, after a successful therapy session, you receive another surprise visit from Charles. He enters the room with a bright smile, holding a small box.
“Hey, Y/N/N,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “I’ve got something for you.”
You open the box to find a small, intricately designed keychain in the shape of a racing car. “It’s beautiful,” you say, touched by the gesture.
“It’s a reminder,” Charles says softly. “Of your passion, your strength, and your determination. No matter what happens, you’re still a racer at heart.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but this time they’re tears of gratitude. “Thank you, Charles,” you say, your voice choked with emotion. “I needed this.”
He smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. “We all believe in you, Y/N. And we’re here to help you every step of the way.”
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The days that follow are still hard, but the nights are a little easier with Charles by your side. One night, as you’re lying in bed, exhausted from another day of therapy, Charles sits beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he begins, his voice soft and contemplative.
“About what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.
“About racing being your life, your dream,” he replies. “I get it. Racing is my dream too. But I’ve realized something important. Dreams can evolve. They can grow. And sometimes, when one dream ends, it makes room for a new one.”
You look at him, your eyes searching his. “What do you mean?”
He smiles, a small, hopeful smile. “I mean that no matter what happens, you’re not defined by this one thing. You have so much passion, so much drive. If racing isn’t in the cards anymore, I know you’ll find something else that lights that fire in you. And I’ll be there to support you, every step of the way.”
His words are like a balm to your soul, soothing the deep wounds of doubt and fear. “Thank you, Charles,” you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he replies, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
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The days continue to blur together, but with each passing week, you begin to see more progress. The pain is still there, but it’s no longer as overwhelming. The therapy sessions remain challenging, but you start to look forward to them, eager to see how far you can push yourself.
Your friends and family continue to visit regularly, their support a constant source of strength. Max, Lewis, George, Lando, Oscar, and Charles all make it a point to check in on you, their encouragement lifting your spirits.
And through it all, Charles is by your side, his presence a comforting reminder that you’re not alone in this fight. His unwavering support, his quiet strength, his deep love—they’re the anchors that keep you grounded, the lights that guide you through the darkest nights.
As the months continue to pass, you begin to see more and more progress. The pain is still there, but it’s no longer as overwhelming. The therapy sessions remain challenging, but you start to look forward to them, eager to see how far you can push yourself.
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It's been six months since the accident. Half a year of relentless therapy, sleepless nights, and countless tears. But today, as you sit in the hospital's discharge room, a sense of cautious optimism fills the air.
Dr. Yang, your psychiatrist, and Dr. Miller, your orthopedic specialist, sit across from you. Dr. Miller adjusts his glasses and smiles warmly. "Y/N, I have to say, your progress has been remarkable. You're officially discharged."
You exhale, a weight lifting off your shoulders. "Thank you, Dr. Miller. Thank you, Dr. Yang."
Dr. Miller nods. "Remember, Y/N, this is just the beginning. You'll need to continue with your physical therapy and workouts to strengthen your body. We also need you to come in for your planned appointments. But if you keep up the good work, we're hopeful you could start racing again by next year."
Dr. Yang chimes in, "In about a month, you can begin to slowly train with your racing trainers to get back to racing. We know how much this means to you."
The relief washes over you. The thought of getting back behind the wheel, even if it's just in training, ignites a flicker of hope.
"Thank you both," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "I can't wait to get back to it."
As you leave the discharge room, your heart pounds with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The past six months have been a rollercoaster of emotions, but today, you feel a renewed sense of purpose.
When you step out of the hospital doors, a loud cheer erupts. There, standing together, are the boys: Charles, Lewis, George, Lando, Oscar, and Max. They hold up a large banner that reads, "Welcome Back, Y/N!" and they're all grinning from ear to ear.
Charles is the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight hug. "We knew you could do it," he whispers.
Lewis steps forward next, a proud smile on his face. "Told you, didn't I? You're stronger than you think."
George gives you a high five, his excitement palpable. "Y/N’s back in action!"
Lando and Oscar cheer loudly, their enthusiasm infectious. "We missed you!" they say in unison.
Max, usually so stoic, actually looks emotional. "You had us worried for a while, but we never doubted you'd be back."
You laugh, wiping away happy tears. "Thank you, guys. I couldn't have done this without your support."
Charles takes your hand, his eyes shining with pride. "Let's get you home."
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The drive home is filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. The boys recount stories from the past six months, filling you in on all the racing drama you've missed. It's comforting to know that life has continued on the track, even as you've fought your personal battles.
Once home, you step into your apartment, which has been kept in perfect order by your parents. The familiar surroundings bring a sense of peace. Your parents are there, tears of joy in their eyes as they welcome you back.
"You're home, sweetheart," your mom says, hugging you tightly.
Your dad smiles, his pride evident. "We're so proud of you, Y/N."
Over the next few weeks, you settle into a routine. Physical therapy sessions continue, and you push yourself harder than ever, determined to regain your strength. The boys visit often, their presence a constant source of encouragement.
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A month later, you're cleared to start light training with your racing trainers. The anticipation is overwhelming as you step into the familiar surroundings of the training facility. Your trainer, Tyler, greets you with a wide smile.
"Welcome back, Y/N. Ready to get to work?"
You nod, your heart pounding with excitement. "Absolutely."
The training is rigorous, but the thrill of being back in the environment you love so much drives you forward. The first time you sit in a simulator again, your hands tremble slightly, but as you grip the wheel, a sense of calm washes over you. This is where you belong.
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As the months pass by, your progress is nothing short of extraordinary. Your body grows stronger, and your confidence begins to return. You start to believe that racing again is not just a distant dream but a tangible reality.
One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you go to visit Charles at his apartment, you sit with Charles on the balcony, looking out over the city lights.
"I was so scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Scared that I'd never feel this again. The rush, the passion."
Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. "I know. But look at you now. You're doing it, Y/N/N. You're coming back stronger than ever."
You smile, resting your head on his shoulder. "I couldn't have done it without you, without all of you."
He kisses the top of your head. "We'll always be here for you."
"Charles," you begin, your voice soft but filled with sincerity, "Thank you. Through everything that's happened, you've been my rock. You stayed by my side, through the tears, the pain, the doubt. You've been my anchor, keeping me grounded when I felt like I was drowning."
Charles reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "Y/N," he says, his eyes searching yours, "you don't have to thank me. I care about you more than anything in this world. When I saw what happened, I was scared. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I'm just grateful that you're here with me today."
Tears well up in your eyes as you squeeze his hand, overcome with emotion. "Charles, you mean everything to me. I don't know what I would do without you."
He brushes a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "I love you, Y/N" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you from the moment I met you. And now, seeing you here, stronger than ever, I know that my love for you will never waver."
You meet his gaze, your heart bursting with love. "I love you," you say, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer. "With all my heart and soul, now and forever."
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It’s a new year, the new racing season buzzed with anticipation. Rumors swirled like wildfires about Mercedes’ new driver. Speculation ran rampant—some said it could be Sebastian Vettel, making a surprise return, while others thought it might be another seasoned veteran. Few dared to hope that it could be Y/N, the driver whose crash had left a deep scar on the hearts of fans worldwide. Yet, the more optimistic whispered her name with a sense of defiant hope.
As the Australian Grand Prix approached, Mercedes remained tight-lipped, stoking the fires of speculation. The paddock was electric with curiosity, journalists and fans alike desperate for any clue. The suspense reached a fever pitch during the free practices and qualifying rounds, as an anonymous driver in the silver arrow of Mercedes set blazing lap times, ultimately securing third place on the grid.
Race day dawned bright and clear, the air humming with excitement. The stands were packed, and millions of eyes worldwide were glued to their screens, waiting for the moment of revelation. As the clock ticked down to the start of the race, the Mercedes garage was a hive of activity, the tension palpable.
Then, the announcement came over the loudspeakers: “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to meet Mercedes’ new driver.” The garage doors opened, and out stepped Y/N, her familiar figure met with a moment of stunned silence before the crowd erupted into deafening cheers. The roar of support was overwhelming, a testament to the impact she had made in her career and the resilience she had shown in her recovery.
Sky Sports' David Croft, commonly known as Crofty, was almost speechless as he watched her walk to her car. “What an incredible moment, ladies and gentlemen. Y/N L/N, a name synonymous with tenacity and talent, has made her triumphant return to Formula One. After everything she’s been through, to see her here, ready to race, is nothing short of miraculous. Welcome back, Y/N.”
You waved to the crowd, heart swelling with emotion. You climbed into the car, focus shifting to the task at hand. You were back where you belonged.
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As the lights went out, signaling the start of the race, your heart pounded with adrenaline. You launched off the line, holding your position through the first few corners. The car feeling like an extension of yourself, every movement precise, every decision calculated.
“Alright, Y/N, keep it steady. We’ve got a long race ahead,” Amaria’s voice crackled through your earpiece. Her calm tone was a steady anchor in the chaos of the race.
Lap after lap, you pushed the car to its limits, the memory of your accident a ghost that spurred on rather than holding you back. You were in the zone, overtaking with surgical precision and defending your position fiercely. On lap 15, you made a daring move on Max, slipping past him into second place. The crowd went wild, the roar echoing in your ears even through your helmet.
“Great move, Y/N. You’re doing fantastic,” Amaria cheered, her voice filled with pride.
As the race progressed, you found herself closing in on Lewis. You knew the pit stops would be crucial. On lap 28, you dove into the pits, the crew executing a flawless stop. You rejoined the race in third but quickly reclaimed back second position, setting your sights on first place.
“Pace is looking good, tires are optimal,” Amaria updated. “Keep pushing, you’ve got this.”
Your focus was razor-sharp, every muscle in your body attuned to the car’s movements. You chipped away at the gap, each lap bringing you closer to the leader. By lap 45, you were on Lewis’s tail, and with a brilliant maneuver, you overtook him, claiming the lead.
The final laps were a blur of speed and strategy. Lewis was close behind, pushing hard, but your determination was unyielding. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, eyes scanning the track ahead, your mind calculating every possible outcome.
“Just a few more laps, Y/N. You’re almost there,” Amaria’s voice was a lifeline, keeping you grounded.
Lap 56 came, and the crowd’s anticipation was palpable. You held your ground, defending your position with the skill and tenacity that had earned you a place among the best. As you crossed the line, the checkered flag waving, the realization hit you—you had won. You did it.
The crowd erupted in applause, the noise almost deafening. You parked the car at the P1 sign, the enormity of your achievement washing over you. You climbed out of the car, tears streaming down your face as you celebrated with her team. They lifted you up, their cheers of joy echoing through the paddock.
David Croft’s voice echoed through the stadium, capturing the essence of the moment. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we have witnessed history in the making. From a young girl in her hometown, driven by an insatiable passion for racing, to being the only girl in her karting races, lovingly supported by her parents. She defied the odds to become one of the first women to race in Formula 1. She survived a horrific accident in Suzuka, a nightmare that could have ended her career and dreams. Yet, she faced her darkest fears, battled through unimaginable pain and doubt, and today, she has overcome those scars to win the Australian Grand Prix. Y/N’s journey is nothing short of inspirational, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Welcome back, Y/N. We could not be any prouder. You have shown us what true courage and determination look like."
Other drivers came to congratulate you—Lewis, Max, Lando, Oscar, and more. Each hug, a testament to the joy and respect they had for your journey and your victory.
You ran towards Charles, your heart bursting with pride. You found each other in the sea of people, and you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. “You did it, baby, you did it! I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you. You’re a winner! You did it! I’m so proud, baby. I love you so much!”
“I love you too,” you replied, your voice choked with emotion.
You stood on the podium, the weight of your journey settling on your shoulders. You have faced the darkest moments and come out stronger, your love for racing and the support of those around you guiding you back to the pinnacle of the sport. The crowd’s cheers were a testament to your resilience, a reminder that no matter how difficult the road, you had found your way back home.
© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
#ꨄ࿎victoria’s writings!࿎ꨄ#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 grid#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#f1 x you#f1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#george russell#george russel x reader#george russel imagine#george russel x you
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what if love isn't enough?
natasha romanoff x reader // part 1...
angst? yes. sad? yes. am i sorry? no x x x
“Were you going to tell me?” you breathe out into the room, Natasha stills when she hears your voice.
“Tell you what?” She tries to act innocent but you know better. You won’t fall into her games right now.
“That you're seeing some girl, some doctor in the medbay?” Natasha stays quiet, and part of you feels like you can hear your heart break.
“Ha, ok, nice. See you around Natasha.” And now it is her turn to feel like she can hear her own heart break too.
You and Natasha have a long history. Years of flirting turned into a one night stand, which led to multiple dates. Which then turned into a relationship that floated naturally, without one another having to say a thing, without actually having to verbalize it. You shared a bedroom; well not for about 3 months now, that’s how long it has been since you two separated over a stupid argument about how she didn't want you to go on a solo mission. Nights spent in that room worshiping each other, treating each other's wounds after a bad mission, comforting each other after horrible nightmares, sharing i love you’s…
How can you be with someone for 5 years and claim you love them so much that it hurts, to then start seeing someone only 2 weeks after breaking up?
Because according to a conversation you overheard in medbay, they’ve been seeing each other for just under 3 months.
You mindlessly drift through the compound, ignoring everyone who tries to speak to you, you can’t do this right now.
How can you do this when only 5 days ago, she was in your bed breathlessly moaning your name after you both needed some comfort after a bad mission?
How could she do this? That’s all that was running through your head as you approached the punching bag in the corner of the gym.
How could she start seeing someone so quickly after you broke up? How could she then sleep with you while seeing someone else and not even tell you? How could she rip your heart out all over again?
You hated it. You hated how much emotional power she held over you.
But you guessed that’s what you get for falling in love right?
“Hey.”
“Fuck off.” You huff to Bucky as he approaches the bag and holds it still, taking the force from your punches like they're nothing to him at all.
“You know…” That makes you stop. Your hands falling to your sides as you stare at him confused.
“I know what Buck?” You watch his eyes widen as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you.
“I was going to tell you, I was, I promise you. We both just got caught up in missions and when I was here you weren't, and vice versa you know?”
“I know what James? Do not make me ask a third time!” Your anger is building, you already know the answer.
“About Nat and Dr-”
“Fuck you.”
“Y/n…”
“NO! FUCK YOU!”
“Calm down, let me talk!”
“No, you don't get to talk to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were 3 years old! You kept this from me! How could you! How could you…” You sob as you turn and walk out the room. You can’t be here. Your own best friend knew? Who else knew? Everyone most likely if Bucky did.
You find yourself mindlessly drifting back through the compound, only this time no one stops to try and talk to you. You can’t imagine you look good right now, you're so close to exploding.
You end up in your bedroom, walking into your closet to grab a suitcase from the top, dragging it to your bed as you work your way through your drawers and closet, grabbing everything and anything you could get your hands on.
You need to leave, it is the only thing that you can actually think straight on. If you stay, you won’t survive. It’s been hard enough the past 3 months let alone knowing she is with someone new.
“Babe…” You don't stop grabbing clothes. You don't bother to fold them, you just throw them straight into the suitcase as quickly as you can.
“Can you let me talk, let me explain.” You stay silent. You can’t even look at her right now.
“I’m not, ugh, I’m not seeing her. I don’t know what you heard, but you know how rumors spread around here. I’m not seeing her.” You lose it.
“You're fucking her though, right?” You turn to face her, keeping the distance between you. You're so angry, you're hurt, this is ruining you.
“Y/n… We broke up.”
“Oh so that just makes it okay to go fuck someone days after we break up? 5 years of my life wasted for what? Did you actually ever even love me? Or did you just love the attention I gave you?”
“That is not fair. You know I love you, I love you so deeply that it hurts, it aches. But you were the one to walk away, don't try and act like a victim here. YOU LEFT ME! You broke my heart. So you do not have the right to stand here and be upset and angry with me for doing that, when you were the one who walked away first.” That isn’t fair, that isn’t what happened at all.
“I did NOT walk away. You gave me an ultimatum. I had to go on that mission, you knew I did-”
“YOU DIDN’T! Bucky said he would go instead! The lead up to that mission was driving you crazy, for months you had nightmares, you worked yourself to exhaustion. I tried to be there for you and you pushed me away! I stayed until I couldn't anymore! I couldn't stand by and let you ruin yourself. I left because in return it was ruining me too. Because if I stayed you would have hated me anyway.” Both of you are breathing deeply, the tension flowing around the room. How can any of this be happening? How is any of this fair to either of you?
“I love you. But you didn't love me enough to stay. So I walked away and every step I took, it fucking killed me. I stripped myself bare to you! I gave you so many parts of myself that I have never given to another person before, that I will never give to another person ever again! So yes! I slept with someone, I can hold my hands up and admit that I did. It was soon, and that was a shitting thing to do but you leaving was really fucking shitty too Y/n. I do not owe you an explanation or an apology for how I deal with my own pain, not anymore.” Natasha’s breathing picks up, tears flowing down her cheeks with no intent of stopping any time soon.
“Natasha…”
“I am not seeing her. I slept with her once. And I have regretted it every single day since it happened. Because she isn’t you, but no one is going to be you, ever. And that’s my burden to carry.” Natasha turns to leave the room but you find yourself rushing towards the door and holding it closed before she can exit. Her back is pressed against your front and all you can smell is the perfume you bought her for valentines day.
“Stay…”
“How can you expect me to stay when you wouldn’t?” Her forehead rests on the door as she continues to breathe deeply. Her words completely throw you. Because she is right.
“I know that mission drove me crazy, but I need you to understand that I needed to do what I had to do tasha or it would have ruined me even more. They…they ruined me, they took me apart and put me back together wrong over and over as they saw fit, day after day. I was the one who needed to finish it. Not anyone else. Because if I didn’t finish it, it would have eaten me alive for the rest of my life. That night, when I left, all I felt and saw was rage. They stole everything from me, I needed it to be over, and I’m sorry that it meant I had to leave you to be able to do that. But I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to ruin you too. I never meant for any of this Natasha. Believe me when I say that, please.” Your voice cracks as you rest your forehead on the back of her head. Your tears falling into her hair, you can feel her body moving from her own sobs.
“I know you didn’t. I didn’t either but we both did. How can we even move forward from this Y/n?” She turns in your hold, your forehead now resting on hers and you stare into each other's red eyes.
“I love you. After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you, it was you yesterday, it was you 2 months ago, a year ago. It is you today, it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life it will be you, I love you Natasha.”
Her hand moves to your face, your own head leaning into her palm as she takes the weight of it.
“But what if love isn’t enough y/n?”
part 2
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romonova#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanov#black widow x reader#angst
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passenger princess || mackenzie arnold x reader ||
sometimes, you wish that mackenzie would let you drive.
"come on, we're gonna be late!" you shouted at mackenzie. the two of you both had media to do, and mackenzie had taken all morning getting ready. you thought that she looked absolutely stunning, but you didn't want to get yelled at for missing your required media.
"your chariot awaits," mackenzie said as she opened the passenger's side door for you.
"mac, babe, i love you, but i think that i should drive today," you tried to tell her. it was really no use because mackenzie obviously didn't want to listen. she always got like this whenever you suggested driving the two of you somewhere.
you had grown up in the city, and while mackenzie had been there for a good amount of time, she wasn't a local. mackenzie didn't know all of the shortcuts and side roads that would cut your travel time down by a third. and so, the two of you truged into the training facilities about 10 minutes late.
"sorry boss, traffic was horrible." mackenzie was quick to diffuse your coach and the media team's ire towards the two of you. they didn't seem too annoyed with mackenzie, but that same courtesy wasn't extended towards you. mac was their world class goalkeeper, and you were just another midfielder that they had gotten cheap. you had come up with a team that had come up during a relegation swap. whenever they went right back down the next season, you had joined west ham instead.
"we could have gotten here sooner if someone would have let me drive," you said. a few of your teammates started snickering behind you, as did mackenzie. you turned to glare at all of them, but the look that you sent your girlfriend was a bit more hurt.
"don't take it personally babe, but you're just not the driving type. you look too pretty in my passenger's seat." mackenzie was trying to be sweet, but it didn't work. she placed her fingers underneath your chin to tilt it up and kiss you, but you turned your face at the last second. a chorus of 'ooo's rang out from your teammates as you stormed out of the locker room.
the media bit was a little intense after that. mackenzie had only been joking, and her attempt at an apology had been brushed off. she didn't mean to upset you. driving wasn't something that she thought would be such a big deal for the two of you. she just liked doing things for you, and since you were normally very independent, this was one of the few things she had the opportunity to even attempt.
"are you ready to go back home?" mackenzie asked as the two of you made your way towards the parking lot.
"i'm not going home with you tonight," you told her. mackenzie's face fell immediately at the news. you hadn't been back to your apartment in two months, having stayed at mackenzie's. your lease was going to be up soon, and your roommate was in talks with a new transfer about moving in. however, you still had a couple of weeks before that happened.
"no!" mackenzie shouted. you winced at the loudness in such a close proximity. mackenzie's face softened a bit as she grabbed you by the arm and tugged you towards the car. "you don't live there, you live with me. we always go home together, you know this. did what i say really upset you this much?"
"it's not just the passenger princess jokes, mac. it's also not just you. i don't want all the girls and the staff to think that i can't do anything for myself. you don't hear all the jokes and comments. i swear that some of them think i can't do anything for myself." mackenzie's face fell as she saw how genuinely worked up you were getting over this. it went a lot further than she had known, and suddenly, mackenzie felt absolutely terrible that you'd been holding in these feelings for so long by yourself.
"hey, (y/n), look at me." mackenzie grabbed your face and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your cheek. "i am sorry for making you feel bad. i am sorry for letting things get so out of hand. i know that you're independent. hell, you do practically everything for me, and driving you around, it feels like the only thing i can offer to help you out. if you want to drive us back, you can, just please come home with me. i don't want to spend a single night without you if i don't have to."
"mac, baby?"
"yeah?" mackenzie seemed scared, as if you were going to tell her that you still wanted to go back to your own apartment. a night in with mackenzie, even whenever you were mad at her, was better than a night in with your roommate any day.
"take me home," you told her. mackenzie's shoulders sagged down a little with relief. you pressed a quick kiss to her lips and threaded your fingers with hers. the two of you walked through the parking lot together towards mackenzie's car. she got the door for you, absolutely beaming when you kissed her cheek in thanks. "can we stop by tesco's on the way home?"
"of course. i'll take you anywhere you want to go." mackenzie grabbed onto your hand and kissed the back of it. you let out a little giggle and settled back into your seat. there wasn't any tension in the car, which you were beyond grateful for.
mackenzie pushed the cart for you in the store, following as you walked around picking out seemingly random things. some of it was groceries that you had noticed earlier needed to be replenished, but quite a bit of the things you were buying weren't things that you normally bought at all. mackenzie didn't bring it up, assuming that it was for some sort of surprise at home.
"can i get some assistance from my favorite sous chef?" you asked mackenzie. she looked up from the couch to see you standing in the entryway of the kitchen holding an apron that you had bought her as a joke. mackenzie could cook, but she rarely did outside of using the grill every other weekend during the summer months.
"i don't know what you're making," mackenzie told you. you brushed it off and helped her into the apron. you gave very clear directions and within the hour, you had a homemade sauce simmering for a spaghetti night.
"how does it taste?" you watched nervously as mackenzie tasted a bit of the sauce.
"if football doesn't work out, you should open a restaurant," mackenzie told you. you moved to press a kiss to her cheek as thanks, unsurprised when mackenzie turned so your lips landed on hers. her hands grabbed at your waist, squeezing gently as she deepened the kiss. "better yet, i'll keep you on as my personal chef. and i can be your chauffeur if you'd like."
"sounds good to me. now, go set the table, the food is almost ready." you gave mackenzie a gentle shove away from you. mackenzie blew you a kiss as she carried the plates and silverware out to the dining room table. mackenzie sat excitedly at the table when you got out there, right next to the place that she set for you. she spent the whole meal practically just staring at you, often to the point of spilling a bit of her sauce on herself every other bite. it was ridiculous, but another reminder of why it was so easy to love mackenzie sometimes.
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Darlin' pt 6
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 7 (SMUT)
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)
Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.
Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(
Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.
"This damn sun," I whined.
Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."
His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.
The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.
"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.
The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.
We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."
I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."
Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."
Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"
Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."
Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.
"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.
I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.
"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.
"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."
Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"
"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"
"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.
"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.
"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."
Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.
"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."
Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.
"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.
"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."
"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"
I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.
"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."
This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.
"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.
Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."
-
It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Jet fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.
Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.
"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"
"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.
"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.
"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.
Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."
I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.
As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.
"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.
As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.
"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.
Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.
"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."
He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.
I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.
"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.
"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.
This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.
"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.
"Yes?" Someone responded.
"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."
"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.
The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.
"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.
"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.
Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.
I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.
Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"
"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.
Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.
"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.
I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.
Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.
I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.
I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.
"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.
I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.
After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.
"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.
The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.
"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.
"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.
I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.
"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.
I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."
She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.
He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"
"What?" I asked him confused.
"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.
"Well-" I start.
"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."
"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."
He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."
"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.
Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.
I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie
#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout tv series#fallout
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So, I have an honest question. Homelander is used to his bday being a huge deal, but what if the person he is interested in doesn't care about their own bday?
Like he has known them for a year, and they never celebrated their own bday nor ever hinted at it. How do you think he'd react?
Birthday Blues
Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader
Homelander hates when you keep secrets from him. But what’s merely a harmless fact to you pokes a sore spot that you never expected.
You hear him before you see him, eyebrow raising at the angry stomp of his footsteps. You’re finishing up the chapter of the book you’re reading and you hope he doesn’t have beef with you because then who knows when you’ll get back to it. You read as fast as you can, words almost blurring as you hastily scan the page. But alas, before you reach the last sentence, your book is cruelly ripped from you.
Homelander stands over your place on the couch, one hand perched on his hip while the other points your book at you as a replacement for his “oh so imposing” finger that he loves to wave at you. His brow is knitted and there’s no doubt that whatever has his feathers ruffled has something to do with you. You lean back and sigh, contemplating how long you should let him ramble before attempting to calm him down. He’s cute when he’s angry. You can live with a lecture when he looks so good doing it. Although you’re hardly feeling charitable at the moment due to him snatching your book like some kind of barbarian.
“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?!” He hisses at you, dropping your book with a thump as he places both hands jauntily on his hips. His jaw clenches as he waits for your answer.
You freeze.
Huh?
You don’t know what you expected but it certainly isn’t that. You had expected him to be fussy about you grabbing a drink with Starlight the other night or helping Ashley with some insane task he gave so he could watch her squirm. You missed a call from him earlier, that tends to set him off. You’d even believe he was feeling sensitive about you waking up before him and grabbing a coffee instead of a good morning kiss. Any of those would be easy to assume. But no, he’s apparently worked up that you didn’t tell him your birthday.
You figured Homelander isn’t a fan of birthdays. He certainly seems cynical about his own. He hasn’t told you the whole story but when he grits his teeth at his birthday obligations instead of basking in the cheers of the crowd, you can easily make the assumption that it’s a sore subject. You don’t have any hang ups about your own birthday but it just never seemed like a big deal to you. It’s just a day. Perhaps too many sneak attacks from the singing staff at restaurants traumatized you. Maybe it’s because birthday cake is always too sickly sweet. Or possibly you just don’t feel like celebrating the passage of time. You never tell people and people rarely ask.
Yet, you can tell by the petulant twist of his mouth that he’s not just angry but hurt that you didn’t share it with him.
“I’m…sorry. I just don’t really think about it that much.” You reply with a confused shrug. His mouth twitches and you know he’s not satisfied with that answer. He’s taking this awfully personally and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. It’s just a day.
“Are you trying to fuck with me? So next time we argue you can bring up what a horrible boyfriend I am for ignoring your birthday! You gonna gossip about it over cocktails with fucking Starlight?” He spits out her name like a curse. You want to roll your eyes but you don’t fancy Homelander flying you to the top of a skyscraper and leaving you there like the last time you tried that. You sigh and reach out to take his hand. He jerks it away petulantly for a moment but when you reach for it again he allows your touch.
“That would make me a pretty shitty partner. I’m not trying to play games with you. I’ve just never really had strong feelings about my birthday. That’s all. I promise.” You squeeze his hand and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather of his glove. He pouts.
“I’m not a bad boyfriend.” He huffs. You gently tug his hand and guide him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. It only takes a few strokes of his hair before he deflates like a balloon. He turns to snuggle his face into your chest.
“I’m not.” He sighs into your shirt. You shush him gently.
“You’re my good boy. I know you wouldn’t forget on purpose. You take such good care of me. But why do you care so much about my birthday?” You switch from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s easily mollified today and it further confirms your suspicions that his feelings were deeply wounded. He desperately needs reassurance when that happens. It’s sweet.
“Did you know that my birthday is fake? Corporate decided on it. I don’t even have one since I was…” He trails off and your heart squeezes painfully. He’s cagey about his past but every so often new details will slip out and it horrifies you every time. You continue to sooth him even as your stomach twists unpleasantly. “But you do have one and you don’t even care! Do you know how fucking spoiled you are?”
You ignore the jab although your hackles rise. Poking his ego now would prove disastrous. So you swallow your pride and continue to let him vent.
“I don’t want you keeping things like that from me. You’re mine and I deserve to know things about you. How can I trust you when you won’t even tell me your fucking birthday.” He huffs and you can feel him stiffen up as he works himself back up into an angry spiral. He nips at your stomach hard enough to bruise and you tug on his hair harshly as a reprimand.
“This isn’t me intentionally keeping some secret from you. I don’t tell anybody.” You pause briefly as an idea hits you. “But…maybe it’s your birthday today too.” You answer and he pulls himself away to fix you with a bemused glare. His brow twitches as he processes what you said
“I mean, if you don’t know the actual day. Then technically every day can be your birthday. It’s like Schrodinger's Cat. Screw corporate, pick your own birthday.” You give his shoulder a little shake and your heart lifts when the corner of his mouth tilts into a little smile.
“It’s my birthday today too then. Now you have to celebrate.” He gives you a smug grin and you ruffle his hair fondly. The hurt still lingers. This is a mere bandage over the leaking wound you know still remains. But if you can ease his burden even a little, you’re happy to do so. Even if it means making a big deal out of your birthday.
“The mighty Homelander sharing the spotlight with a humble human like me? It’s pretty scandalous.” You tease and he turns his head to kiss the sore spot where he bit you. He nuzzles into you one last time before sitting up. He leans in to rub his nose against yours, desperately seeking intimacy in such a vulnerable moment.
“No spotlight,” He whispers. “Just you and me.”
You smile and pull him into a chaste kiss. He whines at the brevity of it and you place another cheeky kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Just you and me.”
He grins and his eyes fill with mischief as he meets your gaze.
“That means it’s time for your birthday spankings” He reaches out to swat you when you bolt with a wild laugh, careening and slipping around his apartment in your socks as he gives chase. You realize as you shriek at his games that maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all…at least as long as no one sings to you.
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Protecting her
Life with Pablo Gavi, the boy everyone adores, and I hate with all my passion not for any particular reason. I actually tried making peace with him the moment I stepped foot into his house at the beginning of my exchange program.
I tried to be nice, to even become his friend but he would always push me away and find some reason to fight me. Even Aurora and his parents tried to make us like each other but it didn't work so I just deiced to stay out his way..somehow that didn't stop him to sabotage me every step of the way all the freaking time!
leo: look at what your brother did to me! boy is a delinquent! I can't do this anymore Y/n..I'm sorry.
There was a picture attached of my soon to become boyfriend with bruised eye and busted lip. Did Pablo really did this just so Leo dumps me knowing it would spite me!?
I heard stumbling and rushed towards the front door to comfort Pablo about this. I was done staying on the sidelines and letting him do whatever he pleased just because I am guest at this house..this is MY life he was messing with for his own amusement!
"Why did you do it!? Tell me he said something to provoke you? Tell me you weren't just trying to spite me by doing this Pablo.." I said but he completely ignored me, like I was invisible, unimportant and that drove me mad.
"No! You're going to start listening to me! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO LEO!!??" I said pushing him against the wall with all my strenght which was not possible unless he let me do it.
"Hm..or what if I don't listen chiqui? What will you do to me precious..huh??" he pushed back and I needed up glued on the wall in the matter of seconds. I gulped..he was so close..and I was no longer angry at him..I was tired of this whole "hate" thing.
"I'm tired of this Pablo..just leave me alone!" I said trying to push him but he wouldn't budge looking down at my face like he was lost in thought. I would give up everything ot know what he was thinking right now.
"P..please.." I was close to tears yet again being dumped not to mention that all my "friends" here only hang out with me thinking they will get to meet my new "brother"..I just wanted to be left alone by everyone especially Pablo Gavi who made this whole trip horrible!
"Fine.." he moved and i walked away not knowing that something in him broke seeing me so sad in front of him knowing he was the reason for it.
I was crying rather loudly knowing his parents and Aurora are not here and Pablo probably didn't even care about it. I was very wrong since he was glued to my door listening to each sound until finally opening the door and walking closer to the bed.
"Stop crying.." he said and I realized that he was indeed there watching me, probably in amusement.
"Leave me alone asshole!" I yelled feeling the bed move as he laid behind me making my whole body contract especially when his strong arms wrapped around my body..what was this nervousness and why did it feel so good to be held by him!?
"Please stop crying...if you like Leo that much I'll stay away.." he said while his hands were tracing invisible shapes on my bare skin making shivers moving down my spine and make me breathless. I truly didn't care that deeply for Leo..I almost cared more how it was angering Pablo..how I finally gotten some type of reaction out of him. I slowly moved turning around in his embrace to face him.
"It's not about Leo..it's about you..why can't you just stop hating me!?" I spoke my hand moving to his face caressing it gently and he let me do it for a few moments closing his eyes looking like he was enjoying it..maybe Pablo felt something for me..maybe I did for him too..maybe that's this tension between us..maybe it's love?
"Because you're annoying!" he pulled away and that gentle caring Pablo vanished in a matter of a second and he was back to being hateful asshole..he only wanted to feel in control and I gave him the chance..like an idiot..thinking he was genuine.
Quickly, he was out of my room returning to his crying himself to sleep..he was a coward to speak about his emotions..because I am not permanent..I will leave him soon and he couldn't afford to get attached.
Weeks went by and I couldn't sleep without imaging those strong arms wrapped around me. Leo asked me to try again but I rejected him..I couldn't stop thinking about my "gentle" Pablo wondering if that was his true nature..I wanted to get to him again..to feel that way again..to understand him.
"Are you ready hermanita?" Aurora said and I met her outside as she was my ride to the stadium for El Classico. I rarely went to his games thinking he would hate me there, but today I wore his jersey and went with the rest of his friends with pride. I wanted him to look me in the ye and tell me hates me if he does so much!
y.n.bebe
Rora and me at #ElClassico ❤️❤️
comentarios:
gvirafans: with Gavi jersey👀
aurorapaezg: hermanitaa💗
belengavira: pretty girls ❤️❤️
pablogavi: ❤️
I saw his comment..he probably did it because people would talk if he didn't..but a heart..it felt special..and made me even more determined to get close to him again.
During the game, Gavi was comeptlely focused as always wanting to win against the biggest enemy. Barca was better but it was frustrating that no ball would finally enter the goal..and time was running out till end of first half.
"I saw that new hermanita of yours..hmm..the things I'd do to her body" Vini provoked and Gavi lost it kicking the ball into the audience and walking towards him while everyone pushed him backwards and referee showed him a red card.
"Say that again hijo de puta!? Let me hear you say it again!" Pablo was not stopping until Xavi himself pulled him away from the pitch giving him a whole lecture about being more mature player.
"It was a good game hermano" Aurora said when we met with Pablo since Barça still ended up winning. Pablo was still heated and seeing me there wasn't helping.
"It's all her fault!" he said pointing at me in front of everyone and I looked away sadly..he was trying to hate me so I give up but I'm not giving up that easily because i know what I felt that night is real!
"Leave her alone! She did nothing wrong!" Aurora tried defending me but I was done being silent walking towards him bravely.
"Let's leave them alone.." Pablo's guy friends said and everyone left as the two of us stood there across from each other not saying a single word. Two can play this stupid game Gavi!
"What did I do to you huh!? Why don't you admit that you don't actually hate me Pablo?? I know you don't.." I said touching his sweaty jersey but he pulled away quickly like he was scared..
"Don't touch me!" he yelled expecting me to turn away and run but I moved closer again.
"Why? What are you sacred of when I touch you huh?"I said once again touching his chest and this time he didn't move staring at my lips longingly.
"Chiqui don't.." he whispered when I moved closer feeling my cheeks blush at the new nickname he chose..the feeling was back and I didn't want to lose it.
"Why?" I asked touching his face and again he closed his eyes as his hands wrapped around my waist pulling me even closer as our chests touched.
"B..because I won't be able to hold myself back" he whispered as we both opened around eyes looking into each other.
"P..Pablo.." I said breathlessly moving even closer but then Leo's familiar voice interrupted our little moment and Pablo pulled away angrily.
"Please let's talk Y/n..about us" Leo said and I internally cursed seeing Pablo's disappointed look as he just walked away without a word..freaking great!
"Is she coming?" Aurora asked
"She has another ride" Pablo said annoyingly reminding himself why he put up a wall..last thing he needed is to get hurt by a girl right now.
"No! I don't!" I said rushing after them after telling Leo I was done with him and sitting in the backseat next to Pablo whose jaw was clenching and he was clearly angry.
"He understood that it's over.." I whispered to Pablo but he was unfazed..once again like he didn't care. Here we go again!
"I don't care!" he whispered back before going on his phone as I sighed loudly besides him.
That night I couldn't sleep..I couldn't have him mad at me anymore..I did maybe the stupidest thing in the world walking to his room in the middle of the night. Luckily he was awake..
"P..Pablo.." I said and he turned around sitting in his bed with a surprised look on his face.
"Go away!" he said but I moved closer standing in front of him.
"I'm not going anywhere..I know why you hit Leo, he told me what he said to his friend and that you heard him" I said and Pablo looked up with raised eyebrows.
"He said you're alone and he can get with you in a week..and I showed him you're NOT alone" Pablo said and I smiled nodding my head and touching his hair as he looked up at me.
"And Vini?" I asked moving my hand down to his face while he looked at me finally putting down his guard and being vulnerable once again.
"Don't talk to me about that disgusting hijo de puta!" he said angrily and I knew he must have said something about me on the pitch..something that didn't sit right with Pablo and he needed to protect me..something you don't do for a person you "hate".
"Don't get angry.." I said and he nodded feeling more sad than angry while his hands snaked around my waist and he pulled me in kissing my stomach over my dress and I breathed heavily.
"I can't stop hating you chiqui.."he spoke into my stomach and I sighed raising his chin up and moving to sit on his lap.
"Why Pablo?" he said moving his hair back and he leaned into my touch as his face went into my neck and he started kissing my skin passionately.
"Because you're leaving me so soon..and I don't want to lose someone I love so much.."he finally said what's been on his mind for awhile and I felt my heart banging against my chest.
"So you decided to hate me? Why didn't you just ask me to stay with you??" I said with a smile and he was surprised to hear me say those words looking up into my eyes hopefully.
"And would you stay for me chiqui?" he said while I held his face and his hands tightly held onto my waist.
"Hmm it depends.." I said smirking moving in and he gulped once again looking at my lips longingly and I smiled.
"On what chiqui??"he smirked and I blushed to scared to tell him what I wanted right now..I just wanted him to finally kiss me.
"Hm..let me guess then" he held my face pulling me in and kissing my lips hungrily making me breathless but never happier. Then he pulled away..and I wanted to cry..I was so tired of these games and I just wanted to be with him!
"Please don't push me away again..please" i latched onto his shoulder and he smiled kissing the top of my forehead before pulling me in bed with him letting me lay my head on his strong chest.
"I'm never letting you go again precious.." he said as I looked up kissing him again as we continued to make out pulling onto each others clothes int he heat of the moment...
#gavigif#gavi#fc barça#fc barca#fc barcelona#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi#gavira#gavi x reader#gavi x you#gavi x yn
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Francis mosses x fem! reader
thick as blood
sweet as milk
"god i am down bad" you groaned getting up getting into the shower, it was.....nasty, the grout and limescale made a public bathroom seem more hygienic
but you didn't have time to think about it so you cleaned up and got out trying your best to not touch a thing, you looked over the makeup guidelines for your uniform, it had to be exact in order for the agents that came in to not suspect you. matching foundation no eyeshadow, black mascara and complimentary blush with matching lip stick
you looked in the mirror one last time before rushing out.
7 am sharp you sat at your desk watching Francis be the first heading out the door giving a small wave to you, your heart fluttered waving back. a few more residents left leaving you with a bit too much free time. most of them wouldn't come back till lunch and as stupid as dopples are for them to appear now is suicide, you look around and see a letter at your desk so you open it
dear agent 591138 it has come to my attention that no one has filled you in on your working conditions fully so I am here to do it for you. your working hours are 7am to 10 pm every full week then you will get the following work week off, we understand this is rather confusing but just know your best interest is our priority (among other things) this gives you time for recreational activities and self mental care. you do know how everything in the office works but we did just throw a gun to you like a baby. your DDD issued pistol has DDD issued bullets so we can verify the killing of the dopples or in serious cases murder of innocent civilians. an agent will contact you intermittently to check your mental health. best regards , agent 907811
what a letter. did they call you a baby with a gun? your 25.
you decided to open the filing cabinet under your desk to place the letter just to find it riddled with boxes of said bullets. you place it over them and close it staring straight into your reflection of the glass "ok lets just breath and get through it" you assured yourself before reaching into your bag for a bagel and milk, odd combination yes but its what you had in your icebox. you started to worry about your food supplies through the week from what you remember you had bread some fruit jam and POSSIBLY not rotten eggs to hold you over but you knew for a fact a grown person was not going to survive on jelly sandwiches. you looked to the phone wanting to call a cousin that lived nearby to get you some things but you decided against it for now, maybe at the end of your shift you could leave them a message with the operator. soon the middle of the day came and Nacha came in with her daughter looking rather feverish "hi so sorry we had to come back in early she's coming down with something" Nacha slid both their papers and ids through the slot holding her baby close, you looked over the info and all was in order. you even studied them and before opening the door "maybe a doctor would help more?" you asked not wanting to sound mean " oh we went to the pharmacy right before coming here, they said its probably something the kids are passing around" nacha responded happily, this woman was really upbeat it almost scares you " oh good, get better kiddo" her daughter coughed a quiet "whatever" before her mom chastised her passing the now opened door.
you looked to their papers, specifically Anastacha's.... then your stomach dropped. her eyes. her stand offish demeanor yesterday and today, you had a sinking feeling about her relationship to Francis but you weren't sure so you decided to drop the idea for now...
2 dopples came in, horrible replication so you just dropped the shutter and called the moment they spoke.
the phone rang and you picked up "hello, this is agent 907811 the one that sent the letter" the voice was manly but upbeat (imagine Gladiolus from final fantasy 15) you nodded to no one "oh hello, a little unprofessional to make wellness calls in the middle of my shift no?" you asked playfully to test the waters on the guy " intermittently, remember?" he said matching energy "noticed you got 2 already, might get more not to jinx ya" you hummed in agreement as he continued "anyway to make it easier for you instead of calling us and explaining the situation I want you to just say my name and ill know to send our boys in yellow, to save time and lives right?" he kind of lingered on the right so on que you answered "right." "great! ok the names rex." he spoke quick "wait really?" you asked absent for a minute "well no my real name is classified but everyone calls me rex, and whenever you dial 3312 it puts you straight to me~" he made you smile hearing his happiness so you giggled "well ok will do rex, time to get back to work" "yes ma'am" you heard hanging up. dreamboat was infront of you already sliding his papers to you "sorry about that Mr. Mosses" you read over the file, a blush overcoming you "boyfriend?" he asked catching you off guard "n-no, the DDD" you almost got up to let him know you were serious but fixed your seating position instead "mmm...ok" you thanked your god he had very prevalent verbal ques, made your job easy "were do you get your milk from?" he asked taking back his papers "my old apartment, believe it or not the DDD moved me in yesterday with everything I had" you chuckled thinking he took his job a little too serious and didn't want enemy milk on his turf "i give you milk now." he almost declared in an odd way. you turned red imagining unholy thoughts "the farm i deliver for also delivers here. the buildings day is Monday but ill grab a case for you tomorrow" he walked in before you could even form the words thank you but on instinct you shut the door behind him.
you tried to calm your blush to no avail, the way he just announced his caring for you! the way he said it made you swoon "i give you milk now" god it was weirdly hot!! you almost swore you heard a bit of a Russian accent when he said it. you kept holding your face praying to go back to your natural color "doll you look like a tomato" another male voice said "oh Mr. Gauss, I apologize its just allergies" you looked away for a minute before doing the usual "its winter. your a horrible liar" he tapped the glass teasingly "all is well, good day Mr. Gauss" you spoke restrained trying not to be angry with the fact he had no issue calling you a liar opening the door for him "see you later doll". you sat there a little peeved to say the least, munching on your slightly stale bagel you continue your shift.
the next morning you woke up to knocking, your heart raced putting on your robe and ran to the door opening it "its 7:30" francis looked down at you looking almost disappointed "oh my god really?? shit thank you for waking me up" you left the door wide open as you rushed to put on a fresh uniform and stuffing your makeup bag in your purse. francis watched you rush from bed to bath sighing and looking around, he placed down five bottles of milk on your counter and opened your ice box "how pitiful" he spoke looking at the carton of barely any eggs and a few rotting veggies. he took it upon himself to leave a milk out and put the rest in making you a single piece of toast. you looked actually quite presentable considering your rushing you walked towards the door hitting something hard "ow" at first you were going to cry because Francis just watched you almost break your nose but you looked up to see him looking down. god did he smell good. like bourbon and vanilla, thank god axe body spray wasn't invented yet. "I made you toast. I have to get to work." he furrowed his brows at the last bit and left you, you look to the counter to see well enough he set the toast with jam on a small plate and a glass of milk at your table.
days had passed and soon it was your friday
it was almost 10 pm but you had to stay an extra hour because the twin models were at a party. you've never really had a full conversation with them but they were nice to you even complimented you on your hair once, finally they came in beautiful gowns that made you get up to see them fully "y/n! so sorry it took so long!" Selenne said raising her hands up air hugging you from the glass which made you chuckle "its my job to see your safe return, beautiful dresses by the way" you placed your hand on the glass to match hers "why thank you, we'll show you the details in a bit" Elenois smiled passing their papers to you, you matched them up everything being in order "you should come to a party with us" selenne jumped a little visibly annoying her twin "sel she has a job to do. a stressful one at that she doesn't need more comingling with the upper-class that watches your every move" elenois huffed taking the ids back "oh actually my days off start tomorrow" you smiled "oh. nevermind, wanna wear airtight dresses and flirt with politics?" elenois laughed making you raise an eyebrow smiling, selenne slapped her sisters shoulder giggling "shes a little tipsy, yakn-" the girls went silent. all of you looking to your left to see it.
a dopple.
a twin dopple.
it was horrifying. a giant sharp mouth filled its face, no eyes no nose it snarled stretching its arm out to the girls as they screamed. you quickly opened the door hearing your own heart beat quicken with every thought, "get in the office NOW" you yelled banging on the glass to get thier attention, they did as told rushing passed El pushing her sister in forcing Sel onto the office floor next to you. the dopple sprung passed the door before you could shut it, it tripping and grabbing onto elenois' leg with its yellow claws you ran up your mind swimming from thier screams, you punched the side of its head forcing it to go down before turning its attention to you. you grappled with it on the floor yelling at the girls to get a grip and lock the main and office door, they were trembling...blood from Els leg soaking her dress as she held selenne nodding to you closing the door and locking the main one from the office. you were bloody , your fist scrapped its teeth cracking the bone a bit as you threw it againt the door earning another scream from the twins it snarled and screeched as you ran towards the stairs unclipping your gun from its holster going up a floor "all residence stay in your homes a dopple is in the building" you yelled repeating the phrase as you heard them all scamble yelling and some of the men even starting to descend the staircase before you hit the first step. the monster stood before you on the bottom step bleeding from its maw "YoU pICk uP A GOosd fiIIgHT MakeSS yoU moRe DeLishessssss" you trembled aiming "Fuck You" POW POW the pistol shot hitting its stomach, its screeches hurt your ears but you slowly backed away as it crawled to reach you it was fast ripping off quite a bit of your skirt as you kept pilling the trigger knowing it had no more than 8 rounds finally it hit its chest making the thing go down by the second floor.
you laid there on the steps breathing heavy hearing almost nothing as everyone crowded around you asking questions and tending to your leg, but you heard nothing.
you got up pushing poor mia to the side backing down stairs passed the body pulling it by the leg to the main floor and leaving it at the end of the steps, everyone but Nacha and nat following for obvious reasons. you walked to the office opening it with your key seeing the twins holding one another sobbing looking up at you, they smilied running up and hugging you close you could start to hear their voices thanking god and thanking you...the gun was still in your hand so you walked passed them slowly sitting in your chair and placing the gun on the desk everyone ran to the girls to inspect them as you dailed the number "....rex....i had to kill it in front of all of them.." you croaked "coming now kid hold on" his voice sounded shaky but you were still processing everything the smell of blood and what seemed like rot, the stinging sensation of your cuts and bruises...the sounds of your residence begging you to answer them. oh.
you breathed in a sharp breath finally being able to sense everything "please step away from the body" you stated to the mcoolys looking over at it "you really killed it" the older one spoke in shock "oh dear your skirt " gloria took off her head scarf to cover you but francis stopped her taking off his wrobe and placing it over you "the ...blood" you managed to get out "fuck the blood right now" he stated mia dressed you in it as the twins blocked you making sure your panty hose were no longer exposed, all of the men looking away either in respect or fear of thier wives.
DDD came escorting everyone upstairs as the other half stayed downstairs to clean up "didnt think we'd meet this way" you looked up from the chair the shmidts brought out for you to sit as DDD officers looked over your wounds. it was rex. a taller man in casual business attire with salt n pepper hair "you did good kid, you saved those girls and the rest of them" he held out his hand to you , you shook it nodding "thank you" he nodded back letting go to speak with a yellow suit qietly "well it seems theres no fatal injuries on any of you , they dressed your wounds so now you rest" rex looked down at you . some would say you looked like a beaten dog but maybe that was just rex "your one tough bitch y/n." he walked off with the hazmats in tow, "i think its time for you to rest baby...you look close to passing out" gloria squeezed your arm as your eyes fluttered, you were passing out and fast "ill take her home" francis spoke up "and we'll stay with her" El and Sel spoke together "she cant sleep in those clothes" el added , everyone agreed as francis picked you up slowly treating you like glass to your apartment the scent of his shampoo and his warmth made you pass out holding him tighter
you could almost hear him stiffle a tear as he held you closer.
end part 2
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