#sure if she could make the doctor stop. which is terrifying. a fear that continues even once rose comes back to life because i wonder if

[quietwingsinthesky]

AU where rose gets shot by the dalek instead of the doctor and she survives long enough to be brought back to the tardis and he's saying he can fix this, he can fix this, he can fix this. and rose says it was worth it (it was.) and when she stops breathing the doctor just. stops. period. so so still. frozen over her.

and i think it takes just long enough for jack to get close and take her hand. because he needs to. before it goes cold, he needs to.

and that's when rose breathes again.

[bellaxgiornata]

Below the cut is an unedited and very rough excerpt from chapter one of yet another side project I'm currently working on. It is a Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader story where Reader can travel the multiverse and is being hunted because of that ability. It is tentatively titled Keep Coming Back to You. There's also a world of intelligent zombies Reader gets pulled into whenever she really panics which she calls Nightmare 1. In the story, she starts out meeting college Matt and Foggy but because of her ability and her need to hide, she obviously disappears often. So she eventually meets a slightly older Matt (season 1?) as time passes. And this story will be an angsty slowburn after some initial romance (all thanks to you Elektra).

This is a very, very rough concept I'm still working on which will also probably involve Doctor Strange at some point.  And I'm going to say it's 18+ for some smut (because we all know I write smut) and violence/gore (I mean...there's zombies). Just curious who is even interested before I invest too much time in this one.

Anyway, below the cut is a raw snippet from the middle of chapter one!

_________

"You can't hide forever, girl," they called out again. 

You tried to ignore them, your eyes searching for the thread that you had always felt a slight draw towards, though lately it was getting harder and harder to find through the multitudes of universes. Home–that thread meant Home to you. Or at least lately it had become something like Home. You figured you’d jump there and then quickly find somewhere else to jump to lose them for good for a while.

"The others couldn't hide from me either," they told you, their voice closer. 

Their words caused you to pause, momentarily distracted as the threads glittered before you, varying shades of colors and lights softly reflecting along your jeans. 

"You’re not the only one, Serena," they continued, smug satisfaction in their tone. "And I know that's not your real name, girl."

Your head snapped to your left. They were standing at the bottom of the playset’s slide now, staring right at you through the dark with a menacing smile. The teeth of the young man they were currently possessing flashed at you like a warning. A terrified shiver ran down your spine at the sight.

"I always get them eventually," they called up to you. "Just like I'll get you."

Ice cold fear shot its way through your veins. Before you could control it, something was tugging sharply at your body. That horrifyingly familiar feel of cold hands gripping your shoulders and yanking you forcefully backwards hit you hard. 

And then you were falling. 

Your stomach felt like it was flying up into your throat, your organs shifting and squeezing unpleasantly inside of you as you were pulled–the second worst possible thing that could have happened to you in that moment. 

Just as fast as it had started the sensation stopped. You landed hard on your knees along cracked pavement, wincing in pain at the rough drop. Your hands instinctively flew forward, scratching roughly along the broken cement as you tried to steady yourself on all fours. Panting hard, you looked up and surveyed your surroundings while hoping against all hope you weren’t where you thought you were. But your heart fell to the demolished road beside you the moment you took in the sight of the plant life overtaking the decrepit houses around you. Eyes closing, you tried to fight back the sting of tears.

Not here again. 

A fresh wave of panic rolled through you as you quickly and quietly rose to your feet. It had been awhile since you’d been to this world, but you remembered exactly what you needed to do. You needed to be silent. You needed to remain calm. And you needed to get the fuck out of here as fast as you possibly could. Before one of those things found you. You just needed a second to catch your breath and scan your surroundings to make sure you were safe and alone. Then you would find a safe universe and jump again.

That's it, you told yourself. Just calm down. I'll get out of here, I always do. Just need to stay calm.

You tried to take a steady breath, keeping your eyes open while you scanned the area around you. Carefully you expelled the breath as gently as you could, your eyes taking in the sight of the apocalyptic neighborhood. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the house just in front of you, the front door entirely missing. Both houses beside it had broken windows and ivy snaking its way up the front of them. The exterior paint had long since faded and the mailboxes out front were rusted and tipped to the side. But at least you didn't see any movement. As you observed your surroundings, you kept an ear out and listened to every single noise around you. For now, the soft whistle of wind through the copse of trees nearby was thankfully all you could hear. Everything else was quiet.

Good. Silence was good here. Silence met one of those things weren't about to jump out and try to savagely rip you to shreds and eat you like you were their last meal.

Or infect you.

Fuck, I hate this place.

Cautiously you made your way through the tall grass as it brushed against your jeans, the soft swish of it hitting your ears. The overcast light from the sun sneaking through the cloud cover overhead was a sharp contrast to the dark night you'd just been running through moments ago. 

Traveling through worlds was incredibly strange. It could be broad daylight in one place, but then you could jump and end up somewhere where it was pitch black seconds later. Same with the weather–it could be springtime somewhere, with birds chirping and flowers blooming, and then another moment you were landing in three feet of freezing cold snow in a pair of shorts. 

Your concept of time was entirely fucked at this point.

Moving on the front of your feet, you tried to make as little sound as possible as you walked. It was difficult to catch your breath, trying in vain to keep your labored breathing steady and quiet after that chase you’d barely escaped. You just wanted to get your back against something solid and search the threads for a universe that felt safe to jump to. That was your focus right now.

You moved slowly, careful to be as soundless as you could and grimacing at the stains of old blood you saw splattered along the panels of the house as you walked. You crept your way gradually around to the side of the house, glad that it was windowless. Very carefully you turned, stepping backwards until your back hit the wall. At least nothing could sneak up behind you while you worked now.

With a sharp exhale through your nose you tried to focus on the space before you yet again. Gradually the threads of multiple universes appeared, shimmering in the overcast light of the day. This time there was a rush of blues and purples that came forward. You squinted, reaching two fingers tentatively out and trying to get a feel for a few threads of light. 

Maybe you needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere that they wouldn't easily think to find you. But you hated finding new worlds. You never knew what you would be walking into every time you jumped. Though usually if you trusted your instincts you would end up in a world similar to your Home. Right now that's what you needed to find.

A noise came from not too far away, cutting through the silence. You froze instantly at the sound, your fingers holding onto a thread as your eyes darted to the side. And then the jarring, guttural, screeching noise that plagued your nightmares rang out through the trees nearby. The hair along your arms instantly rose, a prickling feeling growing at the base of your skull.

Your jaw clenched, your heart rate rising again. Time was up. You needed to get out of here now. You didn't need to encounter one of those again. You had nothing to fight it with and you sure as shit wouldn't manage to outrun it. 

As the terrifying, rasping growl cut through the air around you yet again, you knew exactly what that sound meant from the time you’d spent here before. It was searching, probably having caught onto the fresh scent of the blood on your scraped hands. But before you could pull the thread of light between your fingers and jump, it disappeared. All of the colorful lights before you suddenly vanished.

"Shit," you whispered. 

That loud, rasping roar reverberated through the air again and shot another spike of fear and adrenaline through you. 

It had gotten closer. 

As you turned, trying to remain calm, you prepared to hide in the house behind you. But that’s when you heard it. Something like a high-pitched shriek in response. There was a second one. And they were communicating with each other. You knew what that sound meant.

They knew something was here.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Do You Trust Me?

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Summary: When Lenora finds out she’s pregnant and another girl turns up pregnant and murdered, Arvin and Y/N take matters into their own hands. 

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Sexual Assualt, Teen Pregnancy, Cursing, Mentions of Rape, Bullying, Dark Religious Themes, Talk of Abortion  DO NOT READ IF THESE BOTHER YOU (Very similar things to the movie)

Word Count: 7000

A/N: So Lenora doesn’t die in this but that part is instead replaced by the Reaster girl being found dead (I named her Jeanette... I didn’t remember if they gave her a first name)

A/N 2: I know I’m writing characters that exist already but like I feel like I’m going to Hell for writing this. Any other Christians feel that way about liking the movie?

___________________________________

Secrets were hard to keep in such a small town as Coal Creek. Everyone knew everyone and if one person saw something, the whole town knew about it by next morning. That’s why Lenora had kept her secrets with Reverend Teagarden from all except you. Other than Arvin, you were her only friend in the world. It felt nice to have another girl to talk to because as much as she loved her brother, it was nothing like having a sister. Though you weren’t related, just friends from school, it was the closest thing she had. 

The two of you had bonded over the harassment from boys at school. Unlike Lenora, you had no problem dishing back threats and abuse. You were more like Arvin in that sense, not always terrified that the Lord was going to smite you for defending yourself. You and Arvin were close too because of it. 

The day you two met, he’d gone to pick Lenora up from school one day to find the two of you cornered out back by Dinwoodie and his boys. They called Lenora ugly, as per their daily routine, and said they wouldn’t fuck her with a bag on a her head. Tommy Matheson had a paper bag held over her face, holding her down while she squirmed. 

“There ain’t nothing alive that would willingly let you touch them, Dinwoodie!” You spat while Orville Buckman held you back, his arms wrapped around your body, keeping your arms . pinned to your side, “You��re a vile thing. Hell, I’m sure a dead pig wouldn’t let you fuck it.” 

Dinwoodie spun around and blew a hard smack across your face, “Lenora here ain’t much different than that. But you on the other hand, I’d take you whether you wanted it or not. I like a girl with a dirty mouth. And lucky you, I won’t make you wear the bag.” 

He fisted your hair and pulled your face close to him, trying to force a kiss from you but spat in his face, a massive drip of saliva landing in his eyes and smaller particles spewed across his lips. “You nasty bi-” Gene Dinwoodie reared back, ready to hit you again when suddenly Arvin came out of nowhere, sending a solid blow straight into Gene’s face, sending him flying to the ground with a crack. 

Orville let you go to go after Arvin and Tommy did the same to Lenora. You ran over to her and pulled the bag from her head, seeing evidence of her silent tears all over her face. Once you saw she was okay though, you ran over to help Arvin, who had found himself dragged to the ground by the three boys. Lenora got up too, screaming for them to stop. 

“Stop!” You yelled, pulling at Gene’s arms to try and get him to stop kicking Arvin. He shoved you back harshly by the chest but you caught yourself, returning with a sharp blow to his face with your locked fist. 

The enraged boy smacked you even harder than before, sending your ass to the ground with thud that you knew would leave a bruise. Your hands and knees got skinned up as you skid slightly on the pavement. Lenora kept pulling on the boys too, begging them to stop but to no avail. 

“Ha, sister fucker!” The three of them called out to Arvin before leaving the three of you alone. 

“Are you okay?” You asked the boy that you hadn’t met before, who was curled up in a ball on the ground and holding his stomach. He groaned in response, trying to push himself up but requiring your assistance. “Thank you for what you did back there. I’m sorry this happened.” 

He stretched, flinching at the slight movement. He sent a small nod towards you but then turned towards Lenora, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, Lenora.” Words couldn’t describe the guilt he felt for allowing this to happen. 

“It-it’s okay, Arvin. It wasn’t that bad this time. Y/N here took the brunt of it, unfortunately.” Lenora turned to you, “‘M sorry about that, by the way. You didn’t need to step in for me.” 

You had stood up about the same time Arvin did, brushing as much of the dirt off your bleeding and scraped up knees as you could without flinching, “Those guys are ass holes, Lenora. I did need to.” 

Lenora piped up, “Oh, um, Y/N, this is my brother Arvin. Arvin, this is Y/N. She just moved here.” 

“It’s nice to meet ya.” You greeted the boy with a pained smile, your face hurting from the blows you’d just taken. 

Arvin nodded, “You too.” He paused for a moment, “Can I give you a ride home? I don’t need them boys catching up with you again on the ride home. Besides, your face is getting mighty red. I might have something back at my house to keep it from bruising up too bad.” 

You looked over at Lenora, sending her a questioning look, like asking if you could trust this boy who had just come to your rescue, which may have seemed like an odd inquiry to have since he just tried to take on the guys harassing you, but your encounters with boys in this town hadn’t gone all too well thus far. The girl looked unfazed though with almost a hint of excitement that you could possibly be going to her home. 

“Um, yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.” You tucked a messy strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at Arvin to see that he was already staring at you. 

That was months ago. You’d gotten settled into Coal Creek by now and the abuse from Dinwoodie had stopped entirely after Arvin had gone full vigilante to beat the shit out of them all. Speaking of Arvin, the day he saved you and Lenora, he asked you on a date and the pair of you had been going steady ever since. If there was ever a couple to not be fucked with, the town had learned it was you two. 

This weekend, you’d gone over to the Russel’s home for supper at their Grandma’s invitation. It was delicious, as usual, as that woman had the God-given ability to produce miracles in that kitchen. As you all finished up, Uncle Earskell asked Arvin to help with something upstairs so he left without a second thought to help his kin. 

Lenora had been looking at you funny all night, as if trying to catch your eye. After helping Grandma (which she insisted you call her as well) clean up supper, Lenora pulled you off to the side, “Y/N, let’s go on a walk. I need to tell you something.” 

The weight in her eyes told you how serious this was so you just nodded, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” 

She grabbed a lantern on her way out the door and towards the barn. It was already dark, despite only being seven in the evening. Lenora led you out there and then closed the door before sitting on the hay. “So what is it?” You asked nervously. Normally, you would have made a joke but something told you that this wasn’t a joking matter. Anxiety buzzed all around her. 

“Y’know the new pastor? Preston Teagarden?” Lenora began, wringing her hands together and beginning to hide under her long red hair. 

You nodded, the question having an obvious answer as everyone, including your God fearing Mama and Aunt, went to church every Sunday. “What about ‘im?” 

“Well… um… y’see. We… we had sex.” She whispered the last word like it was the dirtiest thing she could fathom saying. 

Your eyes blew wide and your mouth dropped open, “You what?” You whispered back in shock. 

“Shh!” She held her finger up to her lips, “He said that to bear yourself as God made his first children was to truly turn yourself to Him.” 

You were having a difficult time processing this new information. Arvin and you had both agreed that there was something off about that new preacher since the first day you met him but you wouldn’t have guessed it was anything like this. “Lenora, that makes no sense. God sees everything. He’s already seen you in your birthday suit. He doesn’t need the preacher to see it too.” 

Part of you felt bad for the way you were reacting, especially when you saw the way your best friend shrunk back a little in embarrassment. Clearly, he’d manipulated her into getting what he wanted, using her faith as a weapon for her sexual exploitation, but of course she didn’t see it like that because his words were specifically tailored to get her to believe him. Now as you said these things, though, it was becoming clearer to Lenora that she had been manipulated. 

“That’s not all…” She continued. 

You held her arm gently, “What is it?” 

Her eyes got wide with fear, “You can’t tell anyone okay? You gotta promise.” Her hand covered yours, gripping tightly to ensure that you grasped the severity of the situation. 

You swallowed hard, honestly scared by her reactions to whatever was happening. This wasn’t like sweet, simple, calm Lenora. Nonetheless, you nodded, “I promise.” 

“I think I’m pregnant.” 

You actually choked, “What? Are you sure?” This was bad. This was so bad. 

Her eyes began to well up with guilty tears, “Yeah, I am. I was pretty sick a few weeks back. Couldn’t eat nothin’ cause I kept throwin’ up. And I haven’t had that time of the month in  two months.” 

“Two months, Lenora? Shit…” You whispered, leaning back against the hay. Even before moving to Coal Creek, you came from a small town in Pennsylvania where this had happened to a few girls. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon in that particular town. Your daddy had been a doctor before he died so you’d seen more than a few cases of teenage pregnancy. For Lenora, though, this was practically unheard of. Good Christian girls don’t have babies before marriage. “Did you tell ‘im?” 

Lenora’s breath shook, “Yeah ‘nd he said I was crazy and delusional. Just imaginin’ things. Said we never did nothin’ in the car. Then he said that I had to get rid of the baby or I’d be branded as the town whore with a bastard son. Even said it’d kill Grandma from the shame of it all if anyone found out.” 

“That is not true, Lenora. None of it. You’re not a whore and it would be best for everyone if that baby inside you was a bastard. That disgusting man isn’t fit to walk the Earth we live on, let alone be a father.” It felt like the blood was rushing through your veins with full force, internally panicking about the situation. This was a big deal and, unfortunately, you weren’t sure if Lenora was emotionally capable enough to handle it alone. She’d always been quiet and lonely and an easy target for cruel people. “Are you keepin’ it?” 

Her breathing shuddered as if she’d started crying, “I can’t kill the baby inside me and go on livin’ with that. But I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared,Y/N.” Lenora threw her arms around you and you held her as her body rattled against yours. 

“Shh, you got me, alright? Me and Arvin. And I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t be ashamed if she knew what Teagarden did to you.” You insisted but she shook her head. 

“You must think I’m stupid for believin’ that man.” She sat up wiping her eyes with her sleeve. 

“No! I do not think you’re stupid at all. That monster took advantage of you, told you things to make you believe that his dirty, lustful thoughts were vindicated by the Lord. And he’s going to fucking pay.” You were furious now as you began to stand up, unsure of exactly what you’d do but you knew you were gonna do it. 

Lenora grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, “No! Wait! Please-” 

“What’s going on here?” Arvin opened the door with a concerned face. 

Both you and Lenora jumped at his sudden intrusion but were even more nervous about what he’d heard. 

“How much did you hear?” Lenora asked her brother, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

He walked in and slammed the door shut behind him, kneeling down in front of you and his sister, “That someone took advantage of you and Y/N was gonna make ‘im pay. Now what happened? What’s going on?” 

This was one of the things that you’d always loved about Arvin. He had this protective nature over what he loved, ready to do anything to keep his loved ones safe, whether that was his sister, his girlfriend, or his grandmother. His brown eyes held so much sincerity and understanding for his younger sister but also fear for what had been done to her. 

When she didn’t respond right away, Arvin looked over to you with questioning desperate eyes but you chewed your lip, knowing that it wasn’t your secret to tell. Instead, you looked back over to Lenora sadly and nudged her slightly. 

“C-can you say? Please? I don’t wanna say it again.” Lenora begged you quietly, avoiding eye contact with Arvin. Though you could never truly know she felt, you tried to understand all the emotions that must have been running through her. 

Arvin met your eyes, begging you to tell him what had happened. “She’s pregnant. It’s that Reverend Teagarden’s baby. Said that he told her that the only way to get close to God was to show him her in the form of Adam and Eve. But now he’s saying that she’s delusional and that it’s not his.” 

Arvin’s temper flamed inside his chest. That explained the Reverend’s intense sermon about delusion this last Sunday. Nobody did this to his sister and got away with it. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking ki-” 

“Arvin please-” Lenora tried to calm him but it was a weak attempt, still trying to stay quiet so Grandma wouldn’t notice.

“No, I’ll end his life for what he did to you.” 

You watched your boyfriend reel around, hands holding onto his hat. He was livid, understandably so. 

Lenora wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to protect Preston Teagarden after what he’d done to her but she thinks it’s that she was more concerned for her brother. Besides, no matter what Teagarden had done, did he really deserve to die for it? 

“We don’t have to hurt him,” You spoke to your boyfriend, “If she wants, she can just have the baby and we’ll help raise it.” 

“But he said it’s not his and that I’ll just be considered some no-good whore. He said it’ll kill Grandma. I don’t want to kill Grandma.” She was almost crying again at the thought of their grandmother ending up six feet under because of the shame of having her as a granddaughter. 

“He said that?!” Arvin nearly yelled. 

“But what if he’s right?” Lenora thought out loud, “I couldn’t live with myself if I got rid of the baby but I can’t risk killing Grandma. Maybe it would be better if I were dead-” 

“No!” You and Arvin both said firmly in unison. You held her hand tight and Arvin knelt down again. 

He swiped his thumb comfortingly across the back of her hands, “Don’t you ever say that. We have both already lost too damn much to lose each other too, ya hear me?” 

Lenora nodded, tears falling down her cheeks when she closed her eyes. 

“Why can’t we just ruin him? You can have the baby and let everyone know what he did. Everyone will know that he’s the father and it’ll destroy his life.” Arvin suggested, all of the miserable ways this could end for the man twisting his heart in sadistic pleasure. 

You shook your head though, “No, they won’t. It’s different for girls in small towns like this. Doesn’t matter what happened, you’re still the dirty no good whore, even if you were raped. The man is treated like a victim for even having the inkling of an accusation brought up.” After a few minutes, you suggested, “Why don’t we run off. We’ll all go to a new town, somewhere where nobody knows none of us. We’ll tell ‘em that your husband died in the war, leaving you with the baby. I’ll go with. I’ll help you raise it.” 

She shook her head, “But what about Grandma and Uncle Earskell?” She did have a point. They were both getting on in age and would need more help than they already did. 

You all sat in silence for a few moments, brainstorming ideas of what to do. Eventually, Arvin looked at his sister, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

The three of you went back to the house for the rest of the night, knowing that everyone would be getting suspicious if you were out any longer. 

The three of you kept the secret quiet, barely even speaking about it to each other. You’d been doing as much research on babies in the libraries at school, which earned you quite a few disapproving looks from people who assumed that you and Arvin were expecting. You were serious when you said that you had every intention of helping Lenora and so was Arvin. 

Weeks had gone by with relatively no news. Well, that’s what the town thought at least. After finding out about what the Reverend had done to Lenora, Arvin had told you about his plan to watch him. 

The pair of you had spent several afternoons staked out near the church, watching as he went to the place of worship and then left at night. But then you started noticing a frequent visitor. Jeanette Reaster. The pair would drive off to a little secluded field and, sure enough, Teagarden would have his way with her. Though you couldn’t hear what was said, it was clear that they’d been praying beforehand before she submitted to him fully. Now, you knew Jeanette Reaster and, much like Lenora, she was the last person you’d imagine having premarital sex for the fear of being struck down by God. Whatever this man had said to them must have been real convincing. 

“Piece of shit…” Arvin leaned forward against the steering wheel of his car while you sat beside him. You both watched on as the Reverend laid the girl down and began his assault of falsely “holy” acts. 

For respect of Jeanette, you both looked away during the actual act but when you saw her ride off, Teagarden got out of his car, a bunch of fabric in his hands and sniffed them as he watched her. “That fucking perv. How does nobody know about this?” You asked, disgusted. Reaster was a good girl. She didn’t deserve this abuse. 

“We know about it.” Arvin said, putting the car in reverse, “And that’s enough.” Less than a week later, word got out that Jeanette Reaster had run off. Grandma had told Arvin and Lenora that her mother had said to her privately that Jeanette left a note saying that she was pregnant but the father refused to believe that he was the father. To spare her family the shame, she ran away and begged them to just say that they had no idea what had happened to her. That’s what her parents intended to do for their daughter’s sake but had entrusted Grandma with the secret just so they had somebody to talk to about it.

The day after she disappeared, they found her body on the side of the road just a few towns over. Nobody had any idea of what had happened except for you and Arvin. Both of you were convinced that Teagarden had murdered her to keep his secret from getting out. 

The anger that was held between you and Arvin both was unparalleled. In part, you both felt partially responsible for her death. If only you’d said something, maybe you could have saved her. But neither of you even knew she was pregnant. That monster did to her exactly what he had probably planned to do to Lenora. 

“We have to set things right.” Arvin said, sitting in his car one night with you in the woods, “That girl is dead and I can’t help but feel like it’s on me.” His head hung sadly, the weight of another death weighing on his heart. 

You shifted sideways in the seat, your jeans rubbing against the vinyl car seats. You placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, “This is not your fault. This is the evil of a wicked man.” 

“A girl is dead, Y/N. He got her pregnant and murdered her. He got Lenora pregnant and tried to convince her she was crazy. He’s taking advantage of innocent girls out here and then tying up the loose ends.” Arvin sat there, so much hurt behind his brown eyes. Then an idea dawned on him, “Do you trust me?” 

The question took you off guard and it showed but you answered honestly, “Yes.” 

** 

Perhaps being quieter in church was for the best for this particular scenario. You’d never been as religious as the rest of your family or the rest of the town, for that matter. But this morning, you found yourself on your knees by your bedside. “Lord, please forgive the things that I am about to do. Please understand that I do this with the best intentions of protecting every other girl to cross paths with Preston Teagarden and to avenge the death of Jeanette Reaster. I pray that you please forgive Arvin as well as I know he is a man with nothing but good and love in his heart. In Jesus’ holy name, amen.” 

Almost on cue, your mom knocked on the door to see you on your knees, “Arvin is out front waiting for you.” She announced with a warm smile, noticing your outfit, “You look nice, sweetie! Since when do you clean up all cute for that boy?” She teased, a loving smile on her face as you smoothed out your yellow dress that hung just below your knees. The sleeves were tight and went about halfway down your biceps. It was far from revealing with a neckline that stopped just below your collarbones but it still was tight enough to accentuate the shape of your concealed breasts. A brown belt was tied around your waist, showing off your figure. 

“Yeah, well I figured that for once I might as well dress up and do something nice.” The lie slipped out smoothly despite the racing of your heart in your chest. 

She pulled you in for a hug, “Well you tell Arvin that I want you back by nine tonight! I’ll be going over to Mrs. Hadderson’s for quilting today, just so you know, in case I’m not home when you get back.” 

You picked up your bag and pulled her into a side hug, “Alright, Mama. Love you!” You hollered, running out the door. Arvin was dressed normally, just his blue jeans and t-shirt, but he still looked great as always. 

When you slid into the passenger seat of his car, he perked up and looked over at you, “Not used to seeing you like this on any day but Sunday.” He attempted to joke but found it difficult considering what the two of you were planning on doing. 

After driving a ways down the road, he asked, “Are you sure you want to be a part of this? Because I can drop you off with Lenora and I’ll take care of this myself.” 

Looking over at him to see his eyes scanning your face for signs of hesitation, you placed your hand on his leg, “I’m not letting you do this alone.” 

Not too deep down, Arvin felt terrible for allowing you to partake in this. Death had always seemed to follow him wherever he went; he didn’t want you to be stuck with the same curse. The two of you developed a plan but Arvin had created a backup just in case you decided you didn’t want to partake, not that he would blame you. He was terrified beyond belief himself but he’d decided that for the sake of every other girl in this town and any other one’s Teagarden had harmed in the past, he had to do this. 

The only thing making him feel remotely at peace with your involvement was the fact that you weren’t actually doing the killing. You were the diversion, he was the trigger man. Arvin sighed, relenting to the fact that you were in on this, “Did you bring the rope?” He asked, eyes flicking over to you and your bag between glances at the road that moved beneath the wheels of his car. 

You dug around in your little bag and pulled out a small length of rope, a weapon chosen for the lack of clean up. “Got it. You got the gun?” 

Arvin pulled his denim jacket back just enough to show the handle of the Luger that once belonged to his father. This weapon was chosen for its reliability. Once you guys started, you had to finish otherwise he’d tell everyone. 

Before you knew it, the tires were coming to a crunching halt on the rocky sideturn just around the corner from the church. A sudden wave of nausea came over you and you had to breathe deeply to settle it down. “You okay?” Arvin asked, reaching out for you. 

You swallowed hard, “Yeah.” Sweat began to bead up on your brow as a million different images of what could happen in the next few minutes ran through your head. 

Arvin watched as you zoned out on the dashboard and he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. It was the same inner conflict he’d had this morning before picking you up, when he first pocketed the gun.  “Whatever happens today, I need you to know that I love you Y/N.” 

You sucked a quick breath in. Neither of you had ever used the L-word before. Arvin was scared to because he’d lost so many people and the fewer people he loved, that fewer people he could lose. You had just never loved anyone romantically before and were too terrified that maybe you’d say it too early or think you felt it when you really didn’t. With Arvin, though, you knew it. “I love you too, Arvin.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips deeply, wanting nothing more than to stay against his skin for the rest of your lives. But, unfortunately, there was something you had to do first. 

“Remember, just get him to bring you to the field. I will be there waiting. I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear?” Your faces were close together, so close your foreheads almost touched, as he went over the plan one last time, trying to make sure that you knew that you were safe as long as he was around. 

“I know.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was far from a grin of actual happiness.

Arvin watched as you got out of the car, leaving the small bundle of rope behind, and walked down the dirt driveway to the church. You looked just like someone that pervert would fall head over heels for. There was an innocent sway to your hips and the way you held your bag close to your body screamed insecurity, but the kind of a young girl who doesn’t know how beautiful she is. The funny thing was that this wasn’t something totally out of character for you. Sure, you had a mouth and fist that could dish as much as it could take, and yeah, you and Arvin had been together for almost half a year, but there was still a youthful innocence to you. There was still a brightness in your eyes and a pep in your step, one that hadn’t been beat down by the tragedies of life yet. It was one of the things that Arvin found most attractive about you but it was also one of the things that Preston Teagard would as well. 

The doors of the church were cracked open just slightly when you approached and you could see the Reverend sitting in the pews, reading his Bible, through the gap. Taking one less final deep breath, you pressed the door open and stepped in, the heels of your little white chucks padding against the hardwood. Teagard turned around at the sound, “Why, hello, there.” He greeted warmly. It disgusted you how this man could act no different after knowing what he’d just done but the worst monsters were human. 

“Uh, hi there, Reverend. I’m sorry to bother but I just needed to talk to you about something.” You began, accentuated your Appalachian drawl while trying to make your voice sound as young and innocent as you could. 

He patted the pew beside him, “Well, my child, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what I’m here for. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” 

Skin crawling as you walked, you forced your feet to move towards the man and sit beside him. Right away, his arm stretched behind your shoulders as he sat uncomfortably close. At first, you avoided eye contact, “Well, um, you see, I’ve been… straying from the light and I really want to get right with God.” 

This had to be the first truth you’d told anyone other than Arvin today. You felt too terrible lying in the presence of God so you’d found a way to genuinely get your feelings off your chest while still luring Teagarden into your trap. 

He rubbed his chin and hummed, “The fact that you acknowledge this means you haven’t strayed too far. God always comes back to his flock, even to those little sheepies who’ve gone astray. Why don’t you tell me more.” He urged. 

Your hands squeezed the strap of your bag tightly, “I… I have lustful thoughts sometimes.” 

Preston was lucky he’d had a lot of practice concealing his emotions because he’d be lying if he said that those words didn’t stir something in him, “Now are these just thoughts or have you acted on them?” 

“Oh, just thoughts, Reverend. I’ve never acted on any of them.” You reassured, finally meeting his eyes. They seemed to look at you with such understanding that you could see why Lenora and Jeanette had fallen for him. 

He nodded in approval, “And who are these thoughts about?” 

This was where you’d have to do a bit more lying, “I don’t really want to say.” You blushed bright red. You knew that Preston must have taken this as a sign that it was about him but it wasn’t. Your dirty thoughts never strayed from Arvin. 

Preston looked away and then back down at you, “You’re going with that Russel boy, right?” 

Silently, you nodded, not wanting to incriminate your boyfriend too much in this process of confession. 

“Has he ever touched you?” Preston pressed, his body getting closer to yours inch by inch until your legs were nearly touching. 

The red in your cheeks wasn’t part of the act anymore but genuine. You shook your head, “No, never.” You felt almost panicked at the question. 

“Have you ever touched yourself to these thoughts?” His voice became slower, more cautious as his inquiries got riskier and riskier. 

You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him anymore and looked back down at your shoes instead, just shaking your head, “No, I feel too weird. Like it’s a violation or somethin’.” 

Preston looked away, as if considering something, before turning back to you, “Can I show you some place? I find it helps me feel closer to God when I feel like I’m goin’ astray. Perhaps I could help.” 

Hook and sink. He’d fallen right into the trap. With a shy nod, you agreed sweetly, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that. Is it far?” 

Teagard shook his head, “Oh no, not too far at all. But I’ll drive so we don’t have to walk.” 

Getting him to drive you to the spot was just as easy as you imagined it would be. With a quick glance in the rear view mirror, you noticed a car in the far distance behind you that you immediately recognized as Arvin following. Preston’s car came to a stop in the same field you’d seen him take Jeanette Reaster to a few weeks ago, facing the woods ahead. 

It really was quite peaceful and would have been a pretty sight if you weren’t with a sexual predator. Again, his arm slid around your shoulders and you breathed in deeply, the intense sexual tension making you uncomfortable even though you had every intention of finishing him off before he even got a hand up your skirt. 

“You said that Russel boy has never touched you. Have you ever shown him yourself?” The fact that this man had the nerve to ask you such questions disgusted you beyond belief but you kept up the facade. 

“Like naked?” You clarified, seeing him nod, “No, not naked. We went to the lake one time so he saw me in my bathing suit then but that’s not exactly the same thing.” 

Preston chuckled at your naivety, “No, no, not the same thing at all. You know how you’re supposed to save yourself for marriage to be right with the Lord. But there is nothing that brings you closer back to our heavenly father than to be as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, the garden of pure paradise.” 

“How is that so?” You cranked up the childlike inquisitive nature as you looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

Preston had to fight the urge to take you here and now, looking at you like this, but he remained strong for the sake of the process. “They were made in his image. We all were but they were his original children. The pure, unaltered image of God himself, before the sin of man tainted it all. By showing yourself in your pure, unaltered image, you bring yourself closer to the light.” 

Your brows furrowed, “But didn’t you just say that premarital sex is a sin?” This may have been jeopardizing your mission but you felt inclined to point out the hypocrisy before you offed the man. 

He nodded, chest falling and rising with a heavy sigh, “It depends on who you’re with. I’m a man of God myself and I like to model myself after Jesus. I’d like to think that makes me an extension of His love and power and therefore an outlet for you to feel safe to do whatever you need to do in order to be right with Him.” 

With a shaky breath, you bit your lip, “Alright. H-how do I-?”

Preston watched as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt and let his mind wander to what else those fingers might be good at. “First, let us pray.” He reached over and held your hand, “Lord, Y/N is showing herself to you. See her Lord, as you made her. She presents herself to you. Give her strength. Amen.” 

“Amen.” You muttered after him, your fingers slowly going to unbutton your dress. This wasn’t how you’d imagined the first time a boy seeing you in your knickers going. In your mind, it had always been on a nice romantic evening with Arvin and a selfish part of you wanted it to stay that way but then you remembered why you were doing what you were doing and sucked down the reservations. At least you weren’t actually losing your virginity to the monster. 

Nervous fingers fuddled with the button for just a moment too long and Teagarden twisted sideways, hands coming to cover yours, “May I?” He offered his assistance. 

Your heart thumped so loud you could hear it but you nodded silently, letting your fingers fall onto your thighs. With deftly skilled fingers, he had your blouse unbuttoned before long and had pushed it off your shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat at this much exposure, your breasts just barely concealed under only the fabric of your bra. Lord, you prayed silently, please let this be over with quickly. 

Your eyes slid closed, trying to imagine that it was Arvin touching you instead of Preston Teagarden but then the mere thought of comparing the two made you sick to your stomach. They were nothing alike. 

A set of chapped lips kissed your forehead gently, then your cheek, and then, finally, your lips. At first, you drew back, but still kept your eyes closed, trying to mask the disgust with untouched hesitance. You forced your body to relax again and Preston took that as a cue to continue with what he was doing, his lips returning to yours. 

Wasting no time, he’d crawled over you until your back was flush against the seat. You placed your hands awkwardly and haphazardly on Preston’s shoulder’s, trying to feign inexperienced confusion. You and Arvin may not have ever gone all the way, but you’d at least gone this far. 

Preston’s lips moved down your neck and your breath got caught in your throat. As much as you hated it, he knew what he was doing. This man knew all the right buttons to push to make a nervous girl submit to his every desire and, though you were well aware of the game he was playing and had zero attraction to him, the physical reactions were almost impossible to stop. Your body shuddered when his stubble, something Arvin lacked, scratched the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes were open wide now, just waiting for your boyfriend to finally show up and save you from this situation. 

Arvin approached the car and slowly and quietly as he could. The windows were up so it wasn’t too big an issue as long as he wasn’t clanging metal but he figured he didn’t want to take any chances. When approached the driver’s window, his heart wrenched and he immediately regretted putting you in this position. 

Preston was on top of you, his hands roaming all around your semi-exposed chest. He knew that you’d never been exposed like that to anyone before and he suddenly felt sick with himself for allowing the first time to be with anyone beside him, let alone Preston fucking Teagard. 

He expected to have to psych himself up for the actual kill, to have to convince himself to do it but when you locked eyes with him, a silent plea to get the man off of you, it came unnervingly natural. With the rope already wrapped around both of his fists, Arvin reached for the handle and threw the door open, looping the rope around Preston’s neck and dragging him back out of the car. Preston’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, “What the fuck?!” He hollered in fear, the words turning to gagging and choking. His hands grasped at the rope but Arvin had it pulled too tightly. 

Preston’s body was kicking against the grass but his neck and head were pressed against Arvin’s chest, who was kneeling in the field. 

“You really thought you could get away with what you did to my Lenora? To that poor Reaster girl you murdered? And then I bet you were willing to do the same to her over there too, huh?” He seethed, notioning over to you with a flick of his chin. 

The reverend tried to say something, anything to defend himself or get himself out of this situation but Arvin never let up so the words came out as disgustingly graphic chokes. You crawled out of the car, not knowing what you could do to help or secure the situation but feeling useless now. 

In a few minutes time, his lips had turned blue and the thrashing of his body had stopped. Arvin finally let up and the body slump into the grass. He crawled back and away from the man who had only moments ago been all over you, touching you. 

That was when he remembered that you were there still. He’d gotten so blinded by rage that he almost blacked out, caught up in the task at hand. But when he looked up, his heart began to beat again and he stood up, rushing to you, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

Your face was pale and blank, almost as if you were in shock. Your top was still totally unbuttoned, white modest bra still exposed to the world but you didn’t look like you cared at all. If Arvin was being honest, this wasn’t how he’d pictured seeing you topless for the first time going. He always hoped it would be romantic and with more than enough time to compliment every inch of your perfect body. Instead, you looked scared and shocked and almost like you could be sick. 

“Y/N?” He urged, coming stand between you and Preston’s body, attempting to break your view of it. He reached down and began to re-button your blouse for you. 

“I’m fine,” You said flatly, only moving to look up at him, “Are you okay?” 

With a glance down at his knuckles, the rope burn was clear to see, but Arvin had been through much worse, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry that I let him do that. This whole idea was stupid and now-” 

“No,” You interrupted, finally snapping out of your shocked state and bringing your hands up to rest on his, which were on your chest now, “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

Arvin didn’t actually feel remorse for killing the man. The only thing he wanted was to take you back home, or rather far away, where there weren’t any reminders of today’s events. He wanted to show you how special you were, how much he loved you, and how brave he thought you were for being willing to be Teagarden’s last victim for the better good of the world. 

[yellowsuitcase]

In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 4 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Guys!!! It's the FINAL part, yay!! I'm super proud of this and I think it's super cute and just AAHH I really hope y'all like it. Lemme know what you think of it and if you expected any of it. Thank you so much for reading, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)

Summary: Draco has been trying to get Y/N to talk to him since he confessed, but he hasn't had any luck. Until, he finds something she left in his dorm.

Warning(s): SMUT! Unprotected sex, lots of fluff, swearing, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist & Taglist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Three weeks had gone by, and now Draco was on his bed, toying with the idea of giving up. Y/N had been avoiding him ever since that day he confessed. No matter how hard he tried to get her to warm back up to him, she kept her distance. He had tried everything. He'd sit next to her in class; she'd move seats. He'd wait outside the Gryffindor tower; she'd strut right past him. It seemed as nothing was working, so of course, he was getting a bit discouraged.

Just a couple days ago, the two of them had been in Charms class, and on his way out, Draco noticed that Y/N had dropped her book. This is my chance, he thought to himself. He quickly bent down to pick it up since he assumed she would've been already halfway down the corridor by the time he got back up. But when he arose from the floor, she was standing right in front of him. His heart pounded in his chest. Draco knew he had to stall for time, try and get her defenses to weaken. He turned the book over in his hands. "The Tales of Beedle and Bard," he read aloud. Y/N blushed and averted her eyes. He opened the cover and read the first few lines to himself.

There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot.

Draco shut the book and said, "I've actually never read them. My father didn't permit me to. Said it was written by a muggle lover. Supposedly he filed an official request to remove it from Hogwarts's shelves." Draco chuckled as he ran his finger along the spine of the light blue book. But his laughter died when he glanced up at Y/N. She looked rather upset, causing Draco to panic and quickly backtrack. "That isn't to say I don't want to read them now. I mean, I'm sure they're not as bad as Father thought they were," he sputtered. Y/N remained silent. "Perhaps... we could read them together, maybe?" he asked hopefully. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he did it anyway. Draco hadn't heard Y/N's voice in weeks, and it was making him grow desperate.

Softly, she reached out her hand, and Draco held his breath. But then her fingers grasped the book, and the Slytherin felt his heart shatter. He cleared his throat, trying to push away the lump that had formed in it. His grip loosened, and Y/N pulled her book towards her chest. She didn't even look at him before she turned around and rushed down the hallway, leaving Draco feeling stranded, hopeless, and, quite frankly, stupid for even trying.

Since then, he hadn't put in nearly as much effort into rekindling their friendship. It was painfully obvious Y/N wanted nothing more to do with him, and as much as it hurt, Draco had to accept that. But that didn't stop his thoughts. It couldn't. Every night, he would lay awake, worrying. Worrying about Y/N's wellbeing. Was she happy? Did she make any new friends?

Did she still feel alone?

Draco didn't know. From the little he'd seen of her, he assumed she was alright. He hoped she was. But he had no real way of knowing. He had tried reaching out to her roommate multiple times, but all Stephanie would tell him was that she thought Y/N seemed fine, just a bit quiet. That answer never sat well with him. During those few weeks, before he confessed, he had learned so much about Y/N. One of those things being that she was not quiet. She had talked his ear off many times, telling him funny stories from her childhood. Like how, after one of their study sessions, she told him about the time she had made her pet fish turn yellow just by looking at it. Draco remembered that day clearly.

"My mum was terrified! One moment my fish was blue and the next he was yellow! I mean, imagine that." Y/N laughed. Draco shook his head in disbelief. "Sounds like you were quite the little mischief-maker," he replied as he twirled his wand between his fingers, it was becoming a bit of a habit. Y/N continued giggling, kicking her legs as she did so. "You should've seen the look on my dad's face when he got home. That was the day he sat her and me down and told us he was a wizard. My poor mum. She had no idea."

Draco sat up in shock. "Wait, wait, you're a half-blood?" he asked, eyes wide. Y/N cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?" she questioned as she began to sit up. Her tone was somewhat threatening. Draco raised his hands to show his lack of ill intention. "No, no. I was just surprised," he quickly explained. Y/N chuckled and waved her hand towards him. "Relax, I'm only playing with you," she assured him. Her words piqued Draco's interest. He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, staring suggestively into her eyes. "Well, I'd sure like to play with you," he husked. Y/N gasped loudly and swiftly removed the pillow from behind her back and chucked it at the blonde boy sitting across from her. "Draco!" she screeched. "Joking!" he mumbled. "Just joking...unless."

Y/N crossed her arms, and obnoxiously shook her head while clicking her tongue disapprovingly. Draco snickered before throwing the pillow back at her, making her giggle. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her eyes twinkle. She looked unreal to Draco, ethereal almost. However, he was torn from his trance by her continuing the story. "Anyways, as I was saying, my lovely mum had the shock of her life. I was surprised as well. I mean, I had just found out I was a bloody witch. Although I was much more delighted than she was. Come to think of it, she might've cried," Y/N said with a small frown. "Wow..." Draco muttered. "But what does she think of it now? What with you being at Hogwarts and all."

Y/N hummed to herself, recalling that last time she and her mother spoke about Hogwarts. "Well, I think she thinks it's a bit surreal, you know? She always imagined I'd graduate and go off to university to become a doctor or something, but here I am at a school for wizards and witches," she said while gesturing to the castle walls around her. Draco nodded although he was a bit confused. "She just doesn't understand, right?" he asked. Y/N pursed her lips. "I think she will, with time. Maybe I can introduce her to you and your family. Now that would be really fun," she suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he questioned, staring at the giggling girl. "Just imagine me introducing you. I'd say, hey mum, this is my best friend and his wizard parents who dress like they're going to a funeral every single day. Oh, and they also own a mansion in the countryside because they're rolling in galleons!" Y/N bellowed, nearly falling over as she clutched her stomach, erupting in laughter.

Draco would've berated her for the slander towards his parents, but his mind was fixated on three words, "My best friend." He waited until Y/N ceased laughing before asking her, "I'm your best friend?" She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Well, duh, you're my only friend, Draco." The Slytherin did his best to hide his blush as he looked to the floor. "You're mine too," he mumbled. But Y/N didn't hear.

Draco sighed as he sat on his bed. He missed her. He wished so badly that she'd walk through his door. But she wouldn't, and he knew that. Slowly, he pushed himself off the green covered mattress and walked over to his wooden desk. A piece of parchment was already on top of it, so he took a seat, and he reached for his ink bottle and quill. His nimble fingers unscrewed the cap, and he dipped the point inside it, drenching it in black liquid. He'd written letters to Y/N many times, but every time he finished one, he'd get scared and chuck it into the bin. Draco knew he'd probably do the same tonight, but he wanted to try. So he pressed his quill to the paper and began.

"Dear Y/N, I hope you are doing well. I'm writing to you to give you my apologies. I should've known better than to confess my feelings for you at such a time. I really hope..." he stilled his hand, not knowing what to say next. His head was reeling as different thoughts and feelings flooded his brain, none of which he knew how to convey in words. She made him so dizzy. But, ever persistent, Draco started again.

"Dear Y/N, Are you doing well? I truly hope that you are. I write to you to tell you that I'm sorry for everything. I said and did so many foolish things that day, and if I could take all of them back, I swear, I would. I know I must've frightened you that day, but Y/N, I fear you don't know how much I miss you. I've never felt this empty before. But I know it's because you're not here. I need you..." Draco, in his frustrated haze, crossed out the last line and crumbled the parchment in his fist. He then tossed it across the room, watching as it hit the wall next to his door, and bounced on the foot of his brass coat rack. He stared at it, thinking about donning his coat and taking a walk around campus. But then, he noticed something underneath. He jumped to his feet and rushed over to the rack. Curious, he lifted his black coat off the hook to reveal a brown cardigan underneath. His chest tightened; it was Y/N's. She must've left it in his room after one of their study sessions. Come to think of it, it was probably from the night before Draco confessed.

Hesitantly, the boy reached out and touched his fingers to the cardigan. It was soft. He lifted it up and held it in his hands, letting his emotions settle. Then, he brought it to his nose, breathing in deeply. It still smelled of her: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon. Draco felt tears begin to gather in his eyes, but he hastily blinked them away. With care, he hung the cardigan back up and retreated to his desk. He got seated, pulled out a new sheet of parchment, and began writing for the third time that night.

------------

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to you to inform you that I've discovered your cardigan in my room. The brown one that is. I suppose you left it after our last study session. I can return it to you tomorrow morning at breakfast, or if you'd prefer, you can fetch it tonight. The current password to the Slytherin common room is Jobberknoll. Hopefully, you remember where my bedroom is, but should you have forgotten, it's at the very top of the stairway on your left. Please knock three times before entering.

There's no need to send an owl with your reply. Just make sure to come before 9:30. If you don't, I'll assume you wish to receive the cardigan at breakfast, in which case, I shall wait for you by the door.

Draco

Y/N clutched the parchment tightly in her hands. She had been scared half to death when an owl landed right beside her while she was sitting by the open windows. But now, she was more afraid of getting her cardigan back. She glanced around her room frantically, as if she'd find an answer to her dilemma upon the walls. Her eyes then drifted back to the parchment in her hands. She looked at where Draco had signed his name. Above it was a dark scribble as if he had scratched something out. What did he write there? It was probably just 'sincerely,' but what if it was something else. What if it was 'with love'? Y/N wondered. She closed her eyes; she needed to calm down. There was no way she'd be able to make a rational decision with such thoughts running through her brain.

But Y/N had nobody to consult, nobody to refer to. Ever since she'd pushed Draco away that day, she'd been alone. Her roommate spoke to her on occasion, but only about school-related things. Almost the entirety of her house had shunned her. And the whole school knew what she did, so making friends had proven to be difficult. But because of this, Y/N had been able to do a lot of thinking. Truthfully, she missed Draco. She hated herself for rejecting him that day. She hated herself because she liked him. The only reason she had rejected him was that she knew she wasn't ready for another relationship. And on top of that, she didn't think she deserved one. Draco wasn't someone she deserved, not in her mind.

But here she was, being forced to make a decision. Should she just wait until tomorrow, or should she go to his room? Her brain was telling her to wait until tomorrow; that way, she could take the cardigan, thank him, and be on her merry way. But her heart screamed at her to go to him. Go to him, confess to him, bring him back into her life. Y/N glanced at the clock; it was nearly nine. "Fuck," she muttered before pushing off the window seat; her loneliness had gotten the best of her.

She rushed towards her closet and flung the doors open. Her eyes scanned the array of clothing for a few moments before she pulled out her favorite pair of light grey sweatpants along with her pale green crewneck. She threw them on and tucked her wand into her pocket. Then she checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was already pulled back, and she had light mascara on. It was good enough, in her opinion, so she slipped on her shoes and turned her doorknob with a shaky hand.

--------

Draco was sitting in his armchair with a blue book in his hands when he heard three distinct knocks at his door. His breathing began to hasten; surely, it couldn't be... Only one way to find out. "Come in!" he called. The door swung open to reveal Y/N. She looked nervous as all hell but nevertheless, stepped inside his room and closed the door behind her. Neither of them said anything. They simply stared at one another. But luckily, Draco came to his senses. "Right, your cardigan," he said as he dropped his book and stood up. He grabbed the cardigan off the back of his chair and walked over to her, holding out the garment. "Here you are." Y/N took it into her hands and examined it. "Thank you, I thought it was lost forever," she told him with a smile. Draco faltered for a moment. He'd forgotten how sweet her voice was. But then he nodded, and the awkward silence returned. It hung in the air for a few moments before it was broken by the two of them simultaneously blurting out, "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Y/N," Draco insisted while shifting his eyes to the floor. "I acted like a fool that day a-and I frightened you, and I made you so overwhelmed. I should've known better, and I am so sorry...I've missed you so much," he said, whispering his last few words. Eventually, he found the courage to look up, and when he did, he saw that Y/N was crying. His heart clenched, and he felt regret pool in his gut. But before he could apologize again, Y/N spoke up.

"I've missed you too, Draco. And I'm not sorry I rejected you that day, I'm sorry that I kicked you out of my life. I thought I was protecting myself because I just knew I would've gone back on my decision if I had let you stay. I liked you too, I still do, but I just wasn't ready. You're too good to be true. I don't deserve a second chance; I don't deserve you. But you didn't deserve to be shut out, and I really hope you can forgive—"

Y/N was cut off by Draco smashing his lips against hers. He held her face in his hands as she gasped, allowing him to sneak his tongue out and run it along her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth as he started to nibble. His hands traveled downwards until they settled on her hips. He pulled her closer and groaned when his hips touched hers. God, how he had missed this. Then, Y/N reached up and ran her hands through his hair, successfully messing it up. Draco knew he wanted more but pulled away from her lips. She breathed heavily and looked into his eyes, puzzled as to why he stopped.

"You're mine...right?" Draco asked anxiously. Y/N smiled and pulled him close for another soft kiss. "I'm yours," she whispered. Draco kissed her again, and she eagerly returned it. Hesitantly, Draco sneaked his hand underneath her shirt, merely letting it sit there against her hot skin as he slipped his tongue into her mouth again. Then, he began to slide his hand up her torso, all while paying attention to her reactions. She seemed to be kissing him harder as he gently ran his thumb along the underside of her breast. He took that as a sign he was doing good, so he placed his hand on top of it and squeezed. Y/N let out a loud moan and pulled away from the kiss. "Draco, please," she whined. He snickered as he studied her pleading face. "What do you need, princess?" he asked in a sultry voice. Y/N squirmed and continued to whine. Draco clicked his tongue. "Always so scared to tell me what you want. There's no need to be embarrassed. I'll give you whatever you want. I just need you to tell me," he reminded her gently. She bit her lip and stared at the floor before finally answering.

"I wanna have sex with you," she whispered. Her face was crimson. Draco felt his heart squeeze; she was too cute. He put his hand underneath her chin and tilted it upwards. A gentle kiss was planted on her lips. "I wanna have sex with you too, darling," he murmured. Y/N couldn't hide her smile as she swiftly took his hand and led him to the bed. Draco smirked and, with sneaky hands, pushed her onto the bed, making her squeal. "Draco!" she yelled with her back now pressed against the mattress. The Slytherin wasted no time; he jumped on top of her while mimicking a roar, causing Y/N to burst into laughter. Her laugh was music to his ears.

Draco tugged her shirt up and off her body, throwing it to the floor. His hands immediately traveled to her back where he unclasped her bra, throwing that away too. Draco felt his dick twitch in his pants upon seeing her nipples harden in the cold air. He leaned down and latched his lips onto one of them while twisting the other between his fingers. Y/N's gasp sent a shiver down his spine, and he sucked her even harder.

"Draco..." she moaned. Draco let go of her tits and sat up, admiring her flushed face. Then Y/N suddenly sat up and grasped the bottom of his shirt and proceeded to yank it off him. Draco only watched as she did this. Her hands then traveled to his pants. She unzipped him and pushed his waistband down, exposing his briefs. He helped her out by maneuvering himself off his knees so that he could kick his pants off.

Once the pants joined the rest of the clothes, Y/N reached for the top of his underwear. But before she could go any further, Draco stopped her. She looked at him, confused as to why he wouldn't want her to touch him. "Tonight is about you, darling. Lie back for me now," Draco instructed. Y/N's face turned red, but she did as she was told and lowered her body onto the bed. Draco's hands grasped her pants, and he slowly pulled them down, stopping to press kisses to her thighs as he went. They were both in only their underwear now, and he could see Y/N was getting impatient. "Speak princess, what do you want?" Draco asked. Y/N pressed her thighs together and rolled her hips a bit before she spoke. "Finger me, please," she begged. Draco smiled at her and immediately pressed his fingers to her pussy, still covered by her panties.

"So polite," he purred as he gently rubbed her clit through her underwear. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. "That feel good, princess?" Draco asked. Y/N nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but a long moan quickly replaced the words on her tongue as Draco applied more pressure to her nub. He continued to swirl his finger around it for a couple minutes, then he slid a different finger past her panties and slowly pushed it inside, feeling her thighs clench as he did so. "So tight," he mumbled before leaning down and giving her a sweet kiss. The intrusion of another finger caused her to gasp into his mouth. Draco groaned and pressed down on her clit, making her hips jump.

"Did you miss this? Did you miss my fingers inside you and my kisses on your body?" he questioned as he thrusted into her. Y/N clenched her walls around his digits and nodded eagerly. "So much. So fucking much," she mewled. Draco added another finger and increased his pace. He noticed Y/N's breathing beginning to get quicker, and he knew she was close. So he finger-fucked her hole for a minute more before withdrawing his hand. Y/N cried out in frustration and glared at him angrily. "Why did you do that?" she whined.

But then, without warning, Draco lifted up her shirt and pressed his lips to her soft stomach, blowing a raspberry onto it. Y/N instantly screamed and wiggled violently underneath him. "STOP, STOP!" she shrieked, trying to get away as her giggles became uncontrollable. Eventually, Draco took mercy on her and ceased his torment. He leaned up to see Y/N was out of breath, and her hair was a mess. "Quit playing games and put your dick inside me, you twat," she ordered. Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "If you say so," he muttered, taking his cock out of his underwear. Y/N's eyes widened, but before she could say or do anything, Draco slid all the way inside her, burying his dick in her pussy. "Ohhh, fuck," she moaned. Draco grunted as he adjusted to the tightness of her hole. He had the instinct to begin slamming into her, but he controlled his urges and allowed her body to adapt to him as he positioned his hands next to her head.

Y/N's walls clenched around him, and she bucked her hips. "Move, please," she pleaded softly. "As you wish," Draco said as he slowly pulled himself out and thrusted back in, setting a slow but consistent pace. Y/N let out quiet mewls as he moved in and out. Her legs found their way to his waist, and they quickly wrapped around it. This pulled him closer and forced his dick deeper inside her. "Fuck," Draco moaned as he leaned down for a kiss while continuing to thrust. Y/N hummed into his mouth and flicked her tongue against his. "Shit, you feel so good," she purred. Draco's cock twitched at her words, and he increased his pace. A harsh grunt escaped him as Y/N reached up and dug her nails into his back. "You're so gorgeous, Y/N," he breathed. "So goddamn gorgeous."

Suddenly, Draco's sensual thrusts were halted by Y/N calling his name. "Yes, darling?" he replied. "You can be rough, I don't mind," she told him gently. Draco smiled down at her and pressed quick kisses along her jaw. "I know, but I can do that another night. Right now," he angled his head so that his lips were by her ear, "I'm making love to you," he whispered, feeling her shudder beneath him.

Y/N's eyes grew soft, and she moved her hands to his face. "You're perfect," she mumbled before pulling his lips to hers, where they shared a passionate kiss. "So perfect." Draco started to thrust again, resuming his slower pace. The force of his cock rocked the couple back and forth on the plush pillows. But then, he had an idea.

He moved his hands from their spot beside Y/N's head, slid them underneath her back, and lifted her up. "Shit," she cursed as she was now on Draco's lap, his dick still buried deep inside her. Slowly, Draco raised her off him and turned her around so that her back was facing him. He then repositioned her hips above his cock and gently lowered her onto it. "Ohhh," she moaned as she once again became full. She was about to lift herself up and fuck herself on his dick, but Draco's hands stopped her. He pushed her legs wide and placed his hand over her pussy. This didn't please Y/N. She started to squirm and buck her hips forward, causing Draco to groan as she stimulated his cock. "Stay still, princess. I'll take care of you," he assured her. His fingers pressed against her heat and slowly spread the upper lips, exposing her clit. With his other hand, he touched his fingers to her nub and slowly began to circle it. Y/N's head fell back onto his shoulder, and a long, deep groan escaped her throat.

"Oh my god," she whimpered as her breathing became ragged. Draco's hands never stopped or stuttered, not even when Y/N's walls squeezed him tight. He just kept rubbing and rubbing; her soft pants sounded like heaven to him. Suddenly, Y/N's thighs began to tense. "Draco, fuck, I'm close," she muttered. Draco turned his head and once again hovered his lips next to her ear. "Cum on me. Cum with me buried inside you," he ordered. Y/N gasped and rolled her head on his shoulder. He could tell she was almost there. "Oh, god. Fuck, fuck, fuck, just a little more," she begged.

Draco kept circling her clit until finally, she inhaled sharply, and her walls clenched him hard. His finger didn't stop; it continued to rub her throughout her high. It only ceased when Draco felt her body jolt from overstimulation. He then pushed her forward onto her hands and knees and began pounding into her, chasing his own climax. The sounds of skin slapping combined with the tightness of Y/N's pussy lit a fire in Draco's abdomen, and soon, he was pushed over the edge. "Cumming," he warned her before he released inside Y/N with a deep groan. The couple remained in that position for a good minute, breathing heavily. Then Draco pulled himself out and laughed as Y/N immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed. He gently flipped her over and kissed her cheek. "You alright, darling?" he asked. She smiled and turned to him. Then, without thinking, she blurted, "I think I love you." Immediately, Y/N slapped her hand over her mouth. But Draco only grinned and said, "I love you too, Y/N."

She lowered her hand and averted her eyes as blush filled her cheeks. "Draco, are we..." she trailed off, looking apprehensive. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked. Y/N nodded. "I'd love to be your boyfriend, darling," he said sweetly. In less than a second, Draco was attacked by a forceful hug from Y/N. He wrapped his arms around her still naked body and held her close, breathing in her scent: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said softly. "I don't know what I would've done with myself if you had just stopped caring one day," Y/N confessed. Draco gently pulled away from the hug and cradled his girlfriend's face in his hands. "I never  would've stopped caring. Y/N you were all I thought about," he assured her. He watched as her tears began to fall from her eyes. "Don't cry, sweetheart, I'm here now; I've got you. There's no need to cry," he said sweetly, trying to comfort her. But Y/N kept on crying, so he dragged a blanket over his lap and pulled her on top of it. "Look at me, darling," he instructed lightly. She rubbed her tears away with her arm and looked into Draco's eyes.

"I love you. I love you so much. Do not waste your tears on the mistakes of the past. All that matters is that I've got you, and you've got me. Alright?" Y/N continued to wipe her tears and nodded. "Alright. I love you too," she replied.

Draco pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, slid her off his lap, and stood up from the bed. He grabbed some tissues and cleaned himself off before doing the same for Y/N. Then he pulled on his underwear and tossed Y/N hers. As she was getting dressed, Draco strode over to his armchair. In the seat of it sat a small blue book. He picked it up and took it with him as he went back to bed. Y/N was already under the covers; she looked at him quizzically when she noticed the object in his hand. Her mouth opened to speak, but Draco quickly shushed her. He slid under the covers and cozied up next to Y/N. Then, he cracked open the book, cleared his throat, and began to read.

"There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot."

The End

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @orangecrayon @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hustlinhufflepuff @goddessofgames @dracocanslytherin8 @superbturtlemakerathlete @raplinethereal @mllzhxrrz44 @dixiethemorab24 @prongsandprancer @azkabanlexi

[plethora-of-imagines]

Alphabet

AN: Time to murder the Thirsting for Thirteen server. =)

Word Count: 1736

Warnings: smut/lemon, face sitting

Description: DW Kinktober Day 4; Prompt: Face sitting

The Doctor encourages you to try something new that you always wanted to try.

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

 "I've always wanted to try the alphabet thing," the Doctor rambled as you entered your newly shared bedroom.

Well, it was mainly your bedroom with how little the Doctor tended to sleep. Still, there were signs that she lived there with you. Bits of broken machinery scattered around on end tables and the desk the TARDIS had added to the room to keep her pilot's tinkering from tripping you. Honestly, most of the Doctor's additions to the room were hazards to navigate around.

"What alphabet thing, Doctor?"

"The one where you say the alphabet against your partner's clit to make them cum! I've always wondered if it is actually effective?"

You smiled at her as her voice trailed off into thoughts that passed so rapidly she couldn't verbalize them. Lips slightly twitching every few moments as if she was about to say something but the thought  was replaced too soon.

"Knowing you Doctor," you waited for her focus on her surroundings to return before continuing. "You'll make your way through more than one alphabet!"

She took your teasing for the lighthearted words that they were.

"Oh, I have enough alphabets in my head to make sure you've cum hard enough -and often enough- to struggle walking when I'm done."

You couldn't help but giggle at the seductive face she was making. She was wiggling her eyebrows purposely to get a laugh out of you. Already you were a lot less intimidated. The Doctor had tried to tell you multiple times that sex should be fun. An expression of love and silly affection, it didn’t always have to be serious and sensual. Yet, you were still often trapped in the mindset of needing everything to be perfect during sex. Of it being a performance on your part where you needed to be the perfect picture of loveliness. It was taking forever to unlearn it, but the Doctor had said she would wait forever for you to be comfortable. You were slowly making progress, the other week you had taken the initiative to ambush the Doctor with fuzzy handcuffs which made her breathless with laughter. You had enjoyed that.

Face sitting, however- was going to be hard to let go and enjoy. You were terrified of “doing it wrong” even if there was no real wrong way. Mind racing with fears of what could go wrong. What if you somehow killed the Doctor? Regeneration due to suffocation during sex would be humiliating to explain. Even just to know it had happened would make you run away for the next hundred years! But you were determined to at least give it a try. You had always wanted to experience it, to know what it felt like.

The Doctor had already thrown off her jacket while you were caught in your own head. She wasted no time in starting to help you strip out of your clothes. Giving kisses to every millimeter of skin exposed. Once your shirt was off she lavished her affection to the crook of your neck, as her hands fiddled with your bra hooks. Kissing, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin. The cold air of the room- and the noise your bra made as the Doctor flung it into the wall once she got it off- was your only sign that your bra had been removed. The Doctor continued to focus on your neck, not even taking a finger to tease your nipples. 

Holding you close, arms wrapped around your waist the Doctor began to unbutton your pants. Hands sliding between the fabric of your pants and underwear to start to play with you. To further relax you with a gentle arousal. You more than approved and told her so with a small moan.

“It’s a delicate maneuver, pleasing a woman. Lucky for you I’m very dexterous and experienced.”

“Oh? Bragging about pleasuring other women while we get intimate, Doctor? Should I be worried I’m dating a playboy in a beautiful woman’s form?”

“Well, you know, all of time and space. I’ve been around,” the Doctor froze as she realized what she said. “Wait- no! I mean I’ve had partners before, you know I’ve had partners before- I never hid that from you. I didn’t mean to imply I was unfaithful when dating- or that I considered any of my partners to be just tally marks on a list. And I- I should really stop talking now, shouldn’t I?”

Laughing, you leaned against the Doctor.

“I was just teasing! I didn’t mean to make you panic so much about hurting my feelings. With how old you are compared to me I’d be more worried if you wanted to have sex and hadn’t yet, old lady.”

“Oi! I’m still considered middle-aged for a Time Lady! I think? I honestly don’t think anyone really kept track back home... we didn’t have birthdays or anything.”

As the peaceful, relaxed vibes returned the Doctor slowly returned her attention to both undressing you and turning you on. Sliding your pants down your legs until they were around your ankles. Kicking them off the rest of the way was just convenient. You weren’t acting eager at all. No ma'am that's how anyone would remove their pants, kicking them off. It took you a while to realize that you were very undressed compared to the Doctor who was still almost her full outfit.

“I know that seeing you without the jacket is almost like seeing you naked in your mind, Doctor but there is a difference.”

The Doctor released her grip on your waist, “well you’ll just have to change that won’t you...”

Smirking you yanked her suspenders off her shoulders in one fluid motion, “oh, I intend to.”

The Doctor helped you to remove her clothes in a rapid hurricane of excitement. Tripping out of her own pants as she fell onto the bed bouncing with a small oomph at the unexpected landing. You laughed as you fell down after her- hands tangled together. Crawling up the bed to get to the pillows the Doctor gave you a face full of ass. Giggling as she spread out her limbs like a starfish as she settled into a comfortable position with her head resting on the pillows.

Your giggles twisted into a nervous tick as you pulled off your underwear. This was going to happen. Shifting onto your knees to hover above her stomach before awkwardly trying to shuffle further up. Kneeling over her face. Would you be able to keep yourself lifted up enough? What happens if you got tired? Or fell when you came?

Hands reassuringly caressed the back of your thighs.

“It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

You lowered yourself down so that the Doctor’s tongue could reach you. The first little lick she gave startled you. Rushing to pull away, hands gripping the headboard for security before you slowly lowered yourself back down again. It felt nice. Well, it would probably feel more than just nice if you could manage to relax enough to focus on the sensations. Your head was racing with thoughts about how you had to stay up, to not suffocate her.

“Relax,” the Doctor murmured. “I have a respiratory bypass, I don’t need to breathe. So let go of the headboard - good girl- and let me make you feel good.”

Letting go of the headboard you let the Doctor’s hands guide you down onto her face. Your pussy resting against her lips.

“I, just tap if you need me to get up?”

Stretching her hand to reach around your body so that you would see her thumbs up, the Doctor reassured you that she would tell you if you needed to move for her. Fond smile growing on your face you let yourself fully relax. It felt good, strange at times as she really was trying out the alphabet, but good. Subconsciously you found yourself grinding down against her soft lips to get further stimulation. When you noticed you didn’t even try to stop yourself this time. She hadn’t given the signal, and the sounds of encouragement she was making made you feel better about what your body was naturally doing.

You had no idea how many “alphabets” the Doctor had gotten through, there was no way that there were this many letters in yours. Little flicks of her tongue mixed with long lasting licks, the sensations varied with no real rhythm. It made it hard to predict what would happen next. The Doctor never seemed to use the same motion twice. Then you felt her make a pattern with her tongue that was just sinful. Had she moved onto words?

“Oh! Oh, that one Doctor! That feels so good,” you head fell back as she repeated the motions.

Now the Doctor seemed to be focused on using patterns with all of the tongue movements that had made you gasp or moan. It was heaven. Grinding down roughly against her mouth and that glorious tongue. You needed more, you needed to cum. You absent mindedly twitched and rutted as you rode out your pleasure on the Doctor’s tongue. Why had you ever been hesitant or worried that she wouldn’t enjoy this as much as you? You could feel her smile, her satisfaction. It was glorious. 

The moment your body allowed you control again you flopped over. Off of the Doctor’s face and into the spot next to her in your bed. Laying still for a while to enjoy the afterglow. You felt content and satisfied. Next time you would have to have her sit on your face. If the sounds she made meant anything it would be very enjoyable. Without a respiratory bypass, however, the two of you would need to actually be a little bit careful.

Your contemplation on when you could plan to try this out for yourself was interrupted by the Doctor rolling over to cuddle you. Enjoying the comfortable silence until the Doctor softly spoke. Breaking the silence with a sleepy voice.

“It was adorable,” she nuzzled in closer. Her wet, arousal covered lips resting in your hair. You would need a bath later, “ your favorite sensation was me calling you the equivalent of darling angel in Gallifreyan.”

You were too relaxed and sleepy to be embarrassed by that new information. You would examine what that meant later.

“Mhm, love you, Doctor.”

She yawed while answering, “love you too, forever.”

[praxeus-13]

Hello! So happy to see a new fic blog, especially one that has fics for the Master! May I request a fluffy Dhawan!Master x reader in which the reader is the doctor’s companion but doesn’t want to admit she’s in love with the Master? And you can choose the circumstances, but maybe the master “captures” and hypnotizes her in front of the fam and she accidentally reveals it? Thank you so much! I loved “warmth” a lot. 🥰🥰🥰♥️♥️♥️

Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this request as I was already planning on writing something along these lines. I couldn’t find a way to get the hypnotism to work but everything else is there so I hope you enjoy!

Well Kept Secrets

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Summary: (what the ask says)

For: @agentmalfoy24601

Warnings: None

You really hadn’t meant to fall for The Master, but intention never seemed to stop anyone when it came to falling in love.

When you first met him, as O, you weren’t quite sure what to think. He was a bit strange, but still sweet - and while he wasn’t your type, you couldn’t deny that he was very attractive. However, there were a few moments when you would look at O and see someone else, and that person interested you. Looking back now, you knew that you had seen his persona slip, even if just for a second, and that had been what had drawn you to him.

When he had revealed himself on the plane it had only drawn you in more. Of course, you had been terrified in the life or death situation, but you had also felt a buzz of excitement and intrigue. If he hadn’t have left you to die on that plane, you know that there was a chance you would have gone with him.

Then The Doctor had sent him off to the Kasaarvin’s dimension and you had lost hope of ever seeing him again, only for him to show up two weeks later.

The Doctor had taken you all to some market planet, given you a credit stick and told you to go off and explore. Originally, you had been wandering around with Graham, but then you had gotten sidetracked and lost sight of him. You had also lost sight of anything else that you recognised so you had started to amble around in hopes of finding someone or something to help.

At first, you hadn’t even seen The Master, so focused on your surroundings that you almost walked right into him, and you barely understood what was happening when he grabbed your arm and dragged you down a quiet side alley.

When you had finally recognised who he was and what had happened, you had been to shocked to stutter out a full sentence. That had caused him to smirk and cockily ask if he was the only one who could leave you speechless, which only made you more flustered.

Once you had finally managed to compose yourself you asked how he was alive, a question that he had ignored in favour of pushing you up against the closest wall and kissing you. It took your brain a few seconds to catch up with the fact that he was actually kissing you before you started to kiss back. Then he had swiftly broken off the kiss and told you that he’d be seeing you, before walking out of the alleyway and back into the bustling streets.

By the time you had finally made it back to the rest of the group, you had managed to get your brain back to its normal working order. Though, when your friends asked you where you had been you told them you simply told them that you had gotten lost after spotting something interesting, resolving not to bring up The Master at all.

True to his promise, he had shown up again about a week after that, kissing you senseless yet again and leaving with little explanation.

After this happened a few times, always when you got separated from the group, you started to have proper conversations with each other. A first they were only about whatever trouble he had caused on the planet to distract The Doctor with, but soon you had started to talk to each other more and more about your lives. He wasn’t as stingy on details as The Doctor was, but you could tell he was still keeping quite a bit of information from you.

Then he started showing up at your apartment, which was a little bit concerning, but he always knocked rather than just bursting in like you knew The Doctor would, so you didn’t really mind. Soon enough your relationship had changed from just meeting up and making out for five minutes, to meeting up and talking for a few hours. Though it was slow, you felt yourself start to fall in love with this strange alien man.

Of course, this caused a lot of internal conflict, especially considering you were still travelling with The Doctor and the rest of the fam. You knew that they were your friends - practically a second family at this point - but you feared that if they ever found out about your relationship with The Master you would loose them. So you kept quiet and tried to pretend that you weren’t secretly dating the man who had tried to kill you all. Every time the two of you met up on one of your trips with The Doctor was both exhilarating and frightening, and while you loved seeing him all the time you were always worried that one of your friends would catch you with him.

When The Master invited you to travel with him instead of The Doctor several months into your relationship, you didn’t quite know what to say. You knew that you loved him, but you had never been able to say it aloud, and you weren’t even sure if he loved you back. As well, it wasn’t like you didn’t like travelling with The Doctor and the fam; it was brilliant, even if you did end up running for your life on most adventures, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to leave them just yet.

Unfortunately, you had taken too long to give The Master an answer, and he ended up storming off without stopping when you cried out his name, not caring to listen to any explanation you had to give.

That had been a month ago and you hadn’t heard a word from him since, which had only upset and worried you. Even if you weren’t ready to travel with him then, you had hoped that you could still be in a relationship with him. You knew that your friends had noticed your mood, and they had all tried to talk to you about it, but you reassured them that you were okay and didn’t say anything more.

————

Now you were on another adventure with your friends, using it again to distract yourself from debating whether you and The Master had broken up or whether he was going to randomly show up and pretend that nothing happened. The planet that you had landed on was overrun with nature, and the ruins of whatever civilisation had been there previously were barely noticeable.

Somehow The Doctor had managed to find a very large cathedral-like building that was still mostly in tact, which was what you were currently exploring.

Without any warning you were grabbed from behind and pulled into someone’s tight grip, causing you to yelp and try to struggle away. Then you noticed who exactly had a hold of you and you stopped struggling as much, making a conscious effort to not relax completely into the hold that you had gotten so used to after the last few month.

Your friends had turned around at the noises and their faces were now a mix of anger and concern, glaring at The Master.

“Let her go.” The Doctor told him, her tone indicating her worry.

“Well, I would, but I think (y/n) is quite comfortable in my arms Doctor.” He spat his response at her, tightening his grip further, but still making sure not to hurt you.

You were trying to resist looking up at him, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide the love that your expression would hold.

“No, you’re scaring her, now let her go and I might consider giving you whatever you’ve come here for.”

In your chest your heartbeat had started to pick up speed, you could see that The Master was trying to let onto your friends about your relationship, and you only hoped that he wouldn’t actually say anything.

“Hmm, seems I know your companion better than you.” At this comment you finally looked at him, hoping that he would see the look in your eyes and just walk away without saying anything.

He didn’t look down at you though, and just stayed glaring at The Doctor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Doctor was starting to sound irritated, but there was a hint of fear in her voice as well.

Still trying to stop him from revealing your relationship, you squeezed his hand and tried to get his attention. Unfortunately, he continued to ignore you, and you started to feel much more anxious.

The Master let out a hysteric sounding laugh at The Doctor’s question, and it wasn’t anything like the soft laugh you had grown used to. Though you hated to admit it, he was starting to scare you.

“You don’t even have a clue of what I’m talking about.”

Looking back at the four of them to gauge their reactions, you could see that Yaz and The Doctor were very close to piecing it all together, and Ryan and Graham wouldn’t be too far behind. Instinctively, you pressed further into The Master’s hold, trying to feel some semblance of comfort or safety. Obviously he knew what you were trying to do, he had gotten used to you snuggling close to him whenever you watched a scary movie or had a nightmare, and, either consciously or unconsciously, he started to stroke the back of your hand with his thumb.

“No…” The Doctor’s gasp could barely be heard, but it still caused your gaze to fall to the floor in shame.

You knew that you probably shouldn’t love him, but you did, and now you were going to face the consequences. All you hoped is that after loosing your friends, you wouldn’t loose The Master too.

“Yes.” The Master replied gleefully.

“You can’t- you must have hypnotised (y/n)! She wouldn’t willingly enter a relationship with you.”

“Well, clearly she would, because she did. I haven’t hypnotised her, or threatened her, or drugged her. (Y/n) is with me by choice.” The Master was very clearly pissed off at the implementation that he would do anything to injure you.

Honestly, you were slightly annoyed at it too, the only time he had ever come close to harming you had been on Barton’s plane, and you had gotten out of that alright in the end. You squeezed his hand for comfort again, and this time he squeezed back, calming you down slightly.

“Stop playing games and give (y/n) back.” The Doctor’s voice sounded almost dangerous now, and you were starting to worry for both your safety and The Master’s.

However, The Master seemed unfazed as he ignored her and continued to hold you, “You know it’s true, I can see it in your eyes, but if you’re still having trouble believing it then why don’t you just ask (y/n)?”

Of course he would put you on the spot, you had known him long enough to realise that this whole setup was coming from a place of vulnerability. He was worried that you were going to leave him, that you didn’t care for him anymore, and instead of talking to you about it he was lashing out. It was something that you had been trying to work on with him, but after your hesitation to answer his proposal of travelling with him, he had jumped to conclusions and this was the result.

The silence after he had told The Doctor to question was so deafening that you swore your frantic heartbeat was echoing around the abandoned building. You forced yourself to look up, to look at The Doctor in the eye, and it seemed to be the push she needed.

“(Y/n)?” She didn’t need to ask the question, it was already hanging in the air.

“I chose to be in a relationship with him, he didn’t force me into it.” And then, much quieter, you added on, “I love him.”

Part of you had hoped that no one would have heard what you said, but the room you were in had been dead silent. The Master’s grip on you relaxed in shock, holding you as though you were fragile enough that you could shatter like glass. You tilted your head towards him so you could see his reaction, still slightly worried that he wouldn’t reciprocate.

He seemed to be staring down at you with awe and love, and you couldn’t quite believe that he was looking at you like that.

“You love me?” He asked you, his voice impossibly soft.

You simply nodded in response, unable to form any words. The Master bought one of his hands up to cup your face lightly, as though he was still afraid of breaking you.

“I love you too.” He was almost whispering when he said it but a smile immediately formed on your face.

He leant in to kiss you and you kissed him back eagerly. Unfortunately the kiss was cut short by a not so subtle cough from the direction of your friends.

Still comfortably in The Master’s hold, you turned to face your friends again, feeling your face heating up as you blushed.

“Okay, am I the only one who’s really confused?” Ryan asked, looking around at the rest of your friends for confirmation.

He got a chorus of ‘no’s’ in response and if it wasn’t such a strange situation you might have laughed.

“Yeah, how come you’re in love with the guy who tried to kill us? Cause I feel like I’ve missed a lot.” Graham asked, as clueless as he usually was.

“I’m pretty sure that (y/n) has been secretly dating The Master.” Yaz piped up, and you were slightly glad that she had answered for you.

“Yeah that’s basically the gist of it.” You laughed awkwardly, yet again squeezing The Master’s hand for comfort.

They seemed to mull over this for a few minutes, before The Doctor finally spoke up again.

“(Y/n), are you sure that you want to be with him?” She asked you, and for once it was a question that you could answer easily.

“Yes, I am.” You smiled at her, and you knew that The Master was probably smiling at you.

“Then I suppose I can’t do anything to stop you from loving him.” Then she turned her focus to The Master, “but if you hurt her expect serious consequences!”

He rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, but I won’t hurt them.”

The Doctor and your other friends then proceeded to interrogate the two of you (though they were mainly focused on The Master) about your relationship. Even if it was slightly annoying, you appreciated their concern and protectiveness over you. During the ordeal The Master constantly acted as though he was extremely annoyed and offended at their interrogation, though you could tell that he was glad you had such good friends - even if one of them was his best enemy.

Eventually the six of you made it back to the two TARDISes, and you all paused outside. He hadn’t bought up the question of whether you would join him in his TARDIS since the first time, and you were still slightly worried that you had missed your opportunity.

Then he turned to you, still holding on of your hands even though you were no longer in his hold, “Want to travel with me?”

He asked with such hope in his expression that you felt your heart melt, even after you had rejected him the first time he was still holding out hope.

A wide grin formed on your face and you nodded, “I’d love to.”

He grinned back and pulled you in for another kiss, much to the disgust of your friends.

The next thirty minutes were spent packing up your possessions and moving them from The Doctor’s TARDIS to The Master’s. That was then followed by teary hugs as you said goodbye to your friends and made promises to call and meet up with them whenever you were all on Earth at the same time. The Doctor made sure that you knew to call her if anything ever went wrong, promising that she’d be there immediately.

Despite the grief that you felt leaving your friends and that chapter of your life behind, you were eager to start travelling with The Master and to see how your relationship would develop. The Doctor, Graham, Ryan and Yaz had definitely become a second family to you, but you knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time you saw any of them.

Holding The Master’s hand, you let him pull you into his TARDIS as you waved goodbye to your friends, before turning around and beaming at him. As soon as the door was shut he pushed you up against it and kissed you senseless - reminding you very much of your first kiss with him.

“Where to first, love?” The Master asked as he brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s by your side.”

[demonsandmischief]

Keep Me Safe

A Bucky Barnes Story

Bucky Barnes x OC Character

2K Words

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, Mention of Body Weight, Past Abuse/Trauma

General disclaimers before you read: This is not an imagine. Also, I'm not a doctor, but I do my best to make things as accurate as possible. Please take into account the trigger warnings. I imagine this after TFATWS events just because I feel like that Bucky has finally found himself enough to actually have a relationship. It doesn't contain any spoilers, but it may later on.

----

Bucky already has enough to deal with, but adding Mia to the mix might not be so bad.

----

"You're the only one who hasn't tried," Sam Wilson whispered adamantly.

"No," Bucky Barnes shook his head. "That's a bad idea, Sam, and you know it."

"Listen, you're the only one who could possibly understand what she's been through. At least try."

Bucky sighed. Damn Wilson for being so convincing and good with words. He glanced into the hospital room, seeing the pale girl hooked helplessly to the chirpy machinery. He cringed. He hated it all.

There was no telling what the girl had been through. She had been found while Sam was on a mission, and she continued to panic every single time someone entered the room. Nurses had to give her a mild sedative just to tend to her injuries.

Bucky had avoided the place like the plague. He wanted no part, but Sam was his friend, his only one at that, and he asked for his help, hoping he could relate to the girl in some way.

He entered the room, glancing back at Sam skeptically as nothing happened, but just like with the others, the frail girl woke up with a terrified gasp. Her chest heaved as she pulled at the wires, desperate to free herself, until she saw him.

She stilled at the sight of him, and Bucky couldn't help but approach curiously. She had the most stunning eyes, wide and painful. He couldn't imagine what they had seen.

"Easy," he murmured, holding his gloves hands out in front of him in a calming gesture. He was sure he could hear her heartheat with how frightened she was. "My name is Bucky. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

He glanced back towards the door at Sam who was just out of view.

He eased himself in the chair by the girl's bed. She calmed significantly when his height wasn't as threatening.

She glanced at the glass of water, and at Bucky cautiously. He could tell she was in pain. He didn't know the extent of her injuries, but she had definitely exerted herself when she panicked.

He shifted to pick up the glass and she tensed. "I'm just helping," he whispered. "Here."

She attempted to take it from his grasp, but her shaking hands didn't have the grip, so he held the straw to her lips.

There was something about this girl. Something he couldn't put his finger on.

"I'm Mia," she said after a moment.

Bucky couldn't control the soft smile that pulled at his lips at the sound of her voice. The reaction was odd, something he had never felt.

At that moment, two nurses and a doctor knocked on the door, and entered without saying anything. Mia immediately began to freak out and he was not having it. For some reason, it pissed him off that they barged in on their moment.

"Bucky," she whimpered helplessly, reaching for him.

She wanted him? There was no way. He had just met her.

Either way, he stood to his feet, addressing the group. "There's too many of you. You need to leave. Can't you see you're causing her distress?"

"We saw she was awake. We just need to run some tests," the doctor said.

He felt the feather-like touch on his leather jacket, and a quiet, fearful whimper that sent lightning bolts of red, hot anger throughout his body. Why would they cause her more fear?

"You need to leave. I'll call you when it's time for you to come in," he said sternly, his gaze dark and protective. It was a strange feeling that surged through his chest. He felt something similar when he was fighting alongside Sam, but this felt more intimate.

"You don't have any authority to tell me what to do. What is your relationship to this girl?" the doctor inquired.

Bucky clenched his fists. He wanted to break the shit out of this man's nose.

Lucky for the arrogant doctor, Sam was able to diffuse the situation. He stayed in the entry of the door.

"Woah, what's going on in here? Dr. Smith, Bucky has been the only one to calm her. He's with me, and I have the authority. You need to do what he tells you, or we will just find a different person for the job."

Dr. Smith gave a huff, giving a glare to the angry man.

Sam gave a Buck a tense nod when the room was finally empty.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked Mia, who looked scared out of her mind, huddled in the corner of the bed closest to him.

A tear fell onto her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly.

"I'm okay," she finally said.

"No, you're not, and that's alright." Bucky sank back into his seat, watching her closely.

"You act like you understand," she relaxed slightly, and he noticed her palms were cut from where her fingernails had been digging into the skin.

He reached for her hand, and she accepted his touch, which was very surprising. He reached for a tissue to wipe away the blood.

"I do understand," he said it simply, wondering if there would be more questions, but it was quiet.

Mia's whole body ached. She could feel it now that she didn't feel defensive. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. Everything pulsed with pressure, and burned like fire.

"Thank you for getting them to leave," she whispered, laying back in the bed with a wince.

"You should see a doctor soon, but I'll make sure it isn't that one."

She hated doctors, especially that one that was just in there. They reminded her too much of the one's at - .

Mia shut down the thought, squeezing her eyes closed to stop the flow of painful, horrid memories.

"You should sleep," Bucky said, distracting her from her internal struggle.

She nodded, "Will you come back tomorrow?"

He came back everyday for the next few days. The pair didn't talk much, but they were comfortable with each other's company.

Mia even decided the doctor could finally come in. This one was a woman, and she had a warm personality, almost like a mother.

"You have some breaks that have healed improperly. We might have to reset those if possible. You're also covered in cuts and stab wounds of all kinds. You're dangerously underweight. We need to do a CT scan to know exactly what's going on." The doctor smiled gently, looking up from her clipboard. "Maybe you could tell Mr. Barnes what happened so we can get you proper help."

Mia gripped Bucky's gloved hand tightly, watching the doctor's every move.

The smile never faded from her kind face, "I'll have a nurse come in and prep you for that scan."

As soon as she was gone, Mia panicked once more. "No, no, Bucky. I don't want to go. I don't want to be scanned," she whimpered.

"Shh," he soothed, wiping away the tears with the pads of his covered thumb. "It doesn't hurt. I wouldn't let them hurt you."

A nurse knocked on the door. She set a cup on the table near the bed. "This is contrast so the doctor can see on the scan. Once you drink that, we should be good to go in about an hour. Do you have questions I can answer for you?"

Mia managed just the slightest shake of your head.

"Okay, call me when you finish that, or if you need me."

Whatever was in the cup was chalky and bitter, and hard to get down.

Bucky couldn't contain a chuckle at the adorable, disgusted faces Mia made.

"Don't laugh," Mia pouted, a twitch of a smile threatening to form. It was the first smile she had in a very long time. "You'll go with me, won't you?"

"Of course I will," he said. "I won't be able to go in the room with the scan, but I will be watching. I won't let anything happen to you."

Except, Mia didn't know that, and as soon as she was seperated from Bucky, she could feel the pressure in her chest. Her heart pounded viciously as she tried to force herself upright. Her ears were ringing so much that she couldn't hear or see what was going on around her. All she could see was the fleeting image of the metal table she had been forced to lay on, day in and day out. All the pain and screaming.

The memories that were trapping her began to disappear when she heard her name, the ringing becoming pesky background noise as Bucky's blurry image focused.

"Hey now," he said, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. He was no stranger to panic attacks. "You're okay, Mia."

She wasn't okay. The only time she was ever okay was when he was around, and that scared her too.

"If you do this, they'll know what's wrong and you can get out of here quicker."

"I hate this table," she cried, gripping his hands. "It's just like the one-"

"I know," Bucky whispered. He didn't know, but he would eventually. He needed to make sure the problem was taken care of. "I know it is, but you can do it. Nobody's going to hurt you."

Sam had been watching the exchange. He had been bringing Bucky some food when he had caught the scene.

"What's all this about?" Sam asked curiously. He had never seen the serious man so soft before. Normally, this would be a cause for some teasing, but this was a bit too sensitive for that.

"Don't ask," Bucky huffed, taking the bag of food from him. "Thank you. They only serve garbage here. She's not going to be able to put on any weight with that shit."

Sam eyed him curiously. "You've been with her for almost a week, so it is something, and I'll get it out of you eventually. You have me to thank for this."

"Yeah, whatever," he rolled his eyes. "I do need something from you. I need to know where she came from. I plan on taking a trip."

----

"Do you have to go?" Mia whispered sleepily. The hospital room was dark aside from a lamp. Usually, she was asleep when he left, but she had been extra clingy after the severe anxiety from the day. "I hate it when you leave."

That pulled at Bucky's heartstrings. He had developed strong feelings for the sweet brown haired girl.

"I'll even give you my bed," she said, her doe-like eyes catching the light.

He smiled, bending down closer, "You need to get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning."

"Please." She squished herself to oneside and patted the empty space.

Bucky sighed, "I can't. I have nightmares. I don't want to wake you. Plus, the bed is small. You're going to get hurt."

"I have nightmares, too. We can wake each other." She bit her lip and his resolve was slipping.

The fact was, he didn't want to leave. Not one bit. He wanted to be by her side all of the time.

"Alright, but if you need me to move or if I hurt you, you let me know." He laid beside of her, his ribs pressing harshly against the arms of the bed. It was not comfortable, not until Mia moved close.

He helped her adjust so she was half on top of him, giving him enough room to move over. She pressed her cheek to his chest with a content sigh.He felt content, too, like he finally belonged somewhere.

"Take the gloves off, Bucky. You can't sleep in those," she mumbled.

He hesitated. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. He didn't know what she knew of him, or what she had seen.

"You're the only person I'm not scared of," she continued gently.

He pulled off the flesh one first, and then slowly the vibranium one.

She smiled up at him, reaching for his metal fingers, "I knew this one felt different."

Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating and tickling Mia. He pulled the scratchy blanket over her tiny frame.

"Get some rest."

----

🥺🥺🥺 This was a long one but it's been circling in my head for a while. Part 2? Thoughts?

[chilligyu]

info: wen junhui/reader, teen+, soulmate au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 2k warnings: descriptions of injuries, scars, blood, hospitals summary: forever was a powerful word, and it was the only word he could think of when he imagined his soulmate. someone who was just as powerful as she was terrifying. because forever was a powerful word, and it scared him to no end. author's note: please read! this soulmate au deals with soulmarks in the form of injuries. once someone turns 18 their body will be marked with their soulmates scars and they will acquire all of their future injuries (i know it's a little confusing, story explains it better). if talks of scars and blood make you uncomfortable, respectfully, this fic will not be your cup of tea. thank you all!

Forever. Never, in all of Junhui’s life, had he heard a more terrifying word. He hated the permanency of it, the idea of being stuck doing one thing, being with one person. The thought of it alone made his skin itch. He loved being able to get on a train and go absolutely anywhere, loved never being tied down, loved being free. Sometimes he didn’t even know where home was, where he’d be sleeping, and that’s when he was most happy. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to.

What scared him most, was what he was destined for, what forever truly meant for him. For years he was told how his life would change, how it would never be the same once he became an adult. And he believed them. No matter how much he hated it, he’d have to be delusional not to. Because he’d been watching it play out on his skin since he turned 18. He’d been watching his body pucker with scars, little nicks here and there, for the better part of four years. A thin line across the back of his hand, a surgical scar on his stomach, it was so nerve-wracking. Because he hadn’t been injured.

His soulmate had, and he was a first-hand witness.

That was the sad existence he was left with, the one he’d been running from for years. He lived in a world where everyone was covered in the injuries and scars of their soulmate. Your body wasn’t a canvas of your own life, it was the story of someone else’s. And God Junhui hated that more than anything. That his life wasn’t his own anymore and there was nothing he could do about it.

It all became real for him when he came home from school on his 18th birthday. He shouldered off his bag and was getting ready to shower when he saw the bright pink mark on his stomach. A little thing, only two inches in length, half an inch wide, almost completely negligible. At first, he was confused, then scared, and finally—mortified.

No. He said to himself as he inspected the scar. Please tell me this is a lie.

For years he stared at his own body, repulsed and confused by the injuries that kept cropping up. His friends would laugh at the little marks, claiming that his soulmate was a complete klutz. Still, he refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t care what sort of scar showed up on his body, he refused to care. He refused to think about the one person who was tied to his entire existence. No matter what they were going through. He didn’t care when the eight inch gash appeared on his arm, nor did he care when he saw the surgical scar sprawled across his knee. It was just skin, scar tissue and skin. It didn’t mean anything.

Or that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Sometimes, if the injury was bad enough, he would even feel the pain from it. One day he was walking to work, and suddenly he was struck by an intense migraine. The throbbing alone was enough to make him want to puke. The world was spinning, he could barely feel the ground underneath his feet when he caught his reflection in a store window. His eyebrow had split open, a single trickle of blood streaking his face.

What happened? He found himself wondering despite himself. Are they—are they okay?

Before that moment, he had never actually bled from one of his soulmate’s wounds. And it terrified him. He had only seen the injuries once they’d healed, meaning that the danger, and pain, was over. That little bead of blood meant—meant that this was real. That on the other side of his scars was a real person. He hated forever, he hated the word, hated the meaning, hated what he was forced to endure because fate had better plans for him.

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder. And that was harmless, right?

Going to the doctor after that was interesting, because he had to get a full body X-Ray to see what sort of damage his new body had endured. Standard protocol when you turned 18, he’d just been putting it off for as long as he could. Injuries from his soulmate's childhood were clear against the backlight, several broken bones from when they were young, or reckless, or both. Without realizing it, Junhui found himself smiling at the sight. It was sort of comforting, knowing that he’ll always have this part of someone else. That it’ll never leave him.

He gingerly touched each wound and tried to imagine the story behind them. There was this one right up his shin, very old, very faded, it reminded him of the one time he fell off his bike as a kid. Maybe he had something in common with his soulmate. Maybe they had a similar past. He had no idea, but it was fun to wonder.

For periods of time, Junhui wouldn’t accumulate any new marks, and he felt lonely. He pretended like he didn’t, he continued on as he usually did. A string of flings and drunken escapades kept him busy, but they just—they weren’t as fun anymore. Car rides with no destination, late nights underneath the stars, the things he loved most no longer held the same weight. He felt stupid, selfish, wishing for some sign of his soulmate. Because that meant that they’d have to get hurt for it to happen.

And then, he thought he lost them.

He was getting set up for a gig, plugging in his mic and laughing with the stagehands, when he felt his life flash before his eyes. Like he’d been crushed by a car. The pain was so excruciating, he was finding it hard to breathe. Collapsing to the floor, he could’ve sworn that he saw a bright light above him. Tears streaked his face, his stomach churned like the red sea—he thought he was dying. He had no idea what was going on, until—until he realized that he was fine. That his soulmate—that his soulmate might’ve—

Pulling up his shirt, he watched a deep gash form on his stomach and a deep bruise color his whole abdomen. Propping himself up onto his elbows, he instantly fell back to the ground. Looking at his arm, he noticed the swelling. He was being covered in bruises, several of his bones were broken, and he only had one thought on his mind.

I have to find them.

He managed to get to his feet, finding his right leg weaker than he remembered, and he practically sprinted out of the bar. Pulling out his phone, he started searching every news site he could think of, looking for any news of any sort of car crash. Of any sort of accident.

Every few minutes or so, he’d check to make sure that his scars were still there. That his soulmate hadn’t left him. Because that’s what everyone truly fears, and the one thing Junhui has grown to fear more than forever. When you slowly see your soulmate's scars clear up, when your skin is your own once more, it means one of two things.

Either you’ve found your soulmate, or your soulmate is dead.

Please stay alive. He found himself begging, finally catching word of a couple car accidents in the past day. He scrolled through them, scrolled through the pictures of victims, desperately trying to find them. Dozens of faces blurred past his vision, and he finally stopped at a picture of a young woman. A woman with a small scar on her chin, just like the cut Junhui got when he was a kid and banged his chin on a coffee table.

After years of denying her existence, he had finally found his soulmate. For a brief moment, he was caught in some sort of trance, completely awestruck by the person who was a permanent part of his life. She was beautiful, perfect, everything he had ever dreamed of and feared all at once. It broke his heart, knowing that it took her getting hit by a car for him to find her.

When he figured out which hospital she was taken to, he hailed a cab and paid him extra to get him there as fast as he could. As he rode, he read the article more thoroughly, reading about how she was hit by a drunk driver, how she was in critical condition, and how she was in a medically induced coma. He had to fight back tears, knowing that she might not make it.

Arriving at the hospital, he showed the front desk her picture, desperate to find her any way that he could. They confirmed that she was there, that she had just got out of surgery. They kept telling him that only family could see her, that he’d have to wait until she was out of the ICU, and a million other things that he didn’t give a damn about. He had to see her.

“She’s my soulmate.” He whispered, trying not to lose it. “Please, please, let me see her.”

Even though the nurses were conflicted, they eventually let him in. Thanking them quickly, he sprinted down the hall to her room, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not before she was even a part of his life. Not before he could even tell her how important she was to him. He hadn’t even met her yet, and yet if she died – then his life would be over.

He slowed down as he got closer, his heart beating in his ears. She was just a few doors down, she was so close, he could feel it deep down inside. As he stood outside her door, he tried to calm himself down, he inhaled and exhaled, attempting to stabilize the raging storm inside of him.

Mentally preparing for the worst he reached for the door handle, his entire arm shaking. He was fully aware that she wouldn’t even realize he was there, that she’d be lying catatonic in a hospital bed with tubes and wires hooked up to her. He didn’t care. It was still an important moment in his life. He was about to meet his soulmate for the first time.

Turning the handle, he felt his heart stop when he saw her. Even though the actual sight of her broke his heart, something he couldn’t explain started to stir inside of him. Like—like his entire existence led him to this point. And while that thought alone would’ve terrified him not too long ago, it now gave him a purpose to strive towards. He wouldn’t run from this.

He approached her carefully, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. As he sat there, he watched as the little scars across his knuckles started to disappear, and saw them reappear on her. Unconsciously, he started to check on every single scar on his body, finding himself frowning as they vanished from his skin. He would’ve preferred to bare them, knowing that they wouldn’t mar her beautiful body. And he’d miss the proof that she was meant to be with him. Fate determined that they were meant to be together, and for the first time—he accepted that. Because he finally learned that alone was a far more terrifying word than forever.

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He whispered, taking her hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[buckyownsmylife]

hold up - andy barber fluff

The one where Andy gets you pregnant but you’re young and haven’t been dating for long.

Warnings:  Age gap (Divorced!Andy w/ College!Reader, so she’s legal), pregnancy, light angst, supportive!Andy, mentions of abortion, fluff, mentions of smutty thoughts so I don’t think I advise minors to read this, AU! where Jacob is alive and in college and Laurie and Andy are divorced, minor medical scare from Andy’s confusion, miscommunication that leads to slightly asshole!Andy but it’s quick A/N: Special thanks to @navybrat817​ and @angrythingstarlight​ for helping me choose this collage. This fic was requested a while back. I ended up focusing more on the fact that the reader was younger than Andy (which wasn’t even part of the request) than on the fact that they hadn’t been dating for long, mostly because in my mind, this was happening in the same universe as this fic. Hope you guys like it and respect the reader’s decision to keep the baby the same way you should respect it if she decided to abort it or give it up for adoption. 

Andy’s P.O.V.

Another day, another case, another headache. Working in law gets more tiring every day, and yet I persisted. Even through a divorce and its subsequent complications, I persisted. Sometimes, I forgot why.

I missed the days I remembered why I got into law in the first place. Those idyllic mornings, when I still thought I could change the world. Now all I wanted to do was to get home and eat my girlfriend’s pussy until she passed out from pleasure.

Just the thought of her sweet cunt had me licking my lips as I drove back to my place, wishing I could stop by hers instead. It still weirded me out that I was now in a relationship with someone that was my son’s age, someone who was still in college, but then I remembered all the moments we shared and was overcome with the realization that I simply didn’t want to let her go.

I knew it was selfish of me, but I believed I deserved at least this good thing in my life after my separation. As long as she wanted me, I wouldn’t let her go. And I was pretty sure that if she decided to leave me, I’d still fight for her to stay.

I loved her. I loved her enough to get through the hazard that was coming clean about our relationship to Jacob. I loved her enough to dream about a future together, even if it looked too far away for now. 

Still, I’d caught myself daydreaming about coming home to her more and more these days. It seemed that the more exhausted I was, the more I wanted her to be waiting for me when I crossed the apartment’s door, and I found myself thinking about buying a ring too many times for someone who had gone through such a lousy divorce and was dating a girl who still had college exams to worry about.

I knew our future together - if there even was one - was still too far, but I couldn’t help but want it now. Like, right now. So the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see her for another week or so while she prepared for finals was the closest thing to hell I could go through right now.

Which only made the sight of her by my apartment’s door that much sweeter. “Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Not even giving her the chance to explain, I pulled her into a needy kiss, desperate to taste her again.

I didn’t even notice that, in my eagerness to have her in my arms once more, I had dropped my briefcase and coat on the floor, opting to pay attention to the girl I held in the middle of the hallway.

I only saw the tracks of tears in her beautiful face when I released her, too. Immediately, my heart started to pound against my chest. Could something bad have happened to her? Was she hurt?

Cradling her face in my hands, I automatically started to wipe away her tears. “What’s going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying?” For whatever reason, my words only served to cause her crying to become more frantic, her sobs breaking out of her chest freely now.

My heart felt heavy at the sight of her that desperate. The urgent need to do something, to help her, but not knowing what could be done made my throat feel like it was closing. So I did the first thing I could come up with - I picked her up, not caring about my personal belongings at all as I managed to open the door and take her to the couch with me. 

“Shh… It’s alright, baby girl. I’m right here with you. Just tell me what happened, I’m sure I can help you somehow.” Again, it seemed like it was the wrong thing to say. My words took her to the verge of a panic attack if her breathing pattern was anything to go by, so I bit my tongue and focused on what I knew I could do at that very moment to help her, even if it was very little. I pulled her even closer to me, so her head was resting on my chest, and softly cradled her while rubbing her arm with one hand, while the other played with her hair. “I love you,” I repeated, over and over again. “You’re okay.”

It took some time, much longer than I hoped for, but at last her sobs started to come in bigger intervals, her breathing becoming deeper again. Slowly, she started to calm down and focus on me, and I waited until she was ready to speak, terrified of making her start crying again by pushing her to share what had caused such a terror.

“I went to the doctor today,” she started, and if at first my mind drew a blank because I had in no way anticipated this to be the start of her explanation, my heart quickly started to pound against my chest when I managed to process what she had said. 

Was she sick? I knew she had been feeling a bit under the weather recently, even throwing up some mornings, but I thought it was a bug that had been going around. She was in college, after all, and those environments were filled with bacteria, just waiting to spread any sort of illness they could provoke.

Was it something serious? For her to be that way, it had to have been. My hands started to sweat at the prospect of losing her. Automatically, I held her tighter, in desperate need to hear more but terrified of what was coming our way.

But she didn’t seem able to say it, whatever it was. Her eyes that had finally connected to mine since she started crying, suddenly fell down to her own hands, and her sniffles warned me that she had started to cry again.

“Y/N…” I begged, covering her hands with mine. “Princess, please, please talk to me. I’m going crazy here, sweetheart. I feel like I might pass out any second now.” Surprisingly, that granted me a giggle, and then, through sniffles and tears, she finally looked up at me again.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know how to drop this bomb on Andy. How do you tell your much older boyfriend, who already has a child who’s your exact age, that you’re pregnant with his kid? I was terrified. Terrified that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore, that he would try to force me to get an abortion.

Terrified that I would have to do this alone.

But I had to tell him. Of course, I had. So taking one last deep breath, I squeezed the hand that was holding mine before confessing, in the bluntest possible way, since it was the only one I could come up with right now, “I’m pregnant.”

I don’t know what I was expecting. I hadn’t actually had the time to figure out how to tell him the news - hence my blurting in the simplest possible way - but that also meant I hadn’t really imagined any outcome for this. I had a lot of fears, of course, but no actual expectation. Still, Andy’s reaction managed to catch me by surprise.

At first, there was nothing at all. He just sat there, his huge hands still covering mine as he stared at me with a blank expression in his face. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could even hear it, amidst the silence in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he pounced on me, effectively knocking me back on the couch when he captured my lips with his. 

I couldn’t catch my breath as he enthusiastically devoured me, his hands cradling my face and caging me in as he forced me to make out with him on his sofa, like two teenagers after school. Andy was such a great kisser that it was hard for me not to melt against the soft cushions, instinctively opening my legs further so he could fit perfectly between them.

The way his strong body made me feel when it was covering mine was precisely what had got us in this mess, in the first place.

“Andy…” I tried to speak and push him away, but he was still kissing me desperately, opting for quick pecks around my face since I didn’t let him deepen his kiss again. “Andy!” I admonished when he continued to ignore me, choosing to suck tiny little bruises from my jaw down to my neck, instead. 

“Baby, I’m terrified over here. Can you please stop trying to distract me and tell me what you’re thinking?” That caught his attention. He finally reduced his kisses, slowly going back to his seating position on the couch and bringing me with him, laying me over his lap again.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… I’m so fucking relieved. First, I thought you’d break up with me. Then, since you talked about going to the doctor’s, I thought something was wrong with you. I was desperate, baby girl. Desperate. I figured, one way or another, I was going to lose you. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Hearing what was going on through his mind while I struggled to figure out how to explain what was happening made my heart feel heavy with guilt. I guess that, in the state I was in I kind of thought he would have realized what I was going to say, or simply not anticipate any sort of information whatsoever, so to hear that his mind jumped to these worst-case scenarios was heartbreaking to me.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” I assured him, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it in a small show of support. “I’m right here. But we need to figure out how we’re going to do this.” Andy blinked a few times before managing to voice his confusion.

“Do this what?” And then it was my turn to be confused.

“This… kid. What are we gonna do about this?” I watched as his nostrils flared, his grip on me momentaneously hardening, before he managed to get his emotions in check through a long exhale.

“You’re not seriously considering aborting my child, right?” The question - the tone - was like a slap to the face. In all honesty, that option had never even crossed my mind, but the way he was saying it, like I had no say in the matter, killed me inside.

“I’m gonna give you the time to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I know that this is a pretty overwhelming situation and I just sprung this on you, but that is no excuse to address me in such a manner. Especially if you consider just how much I’m the one who’s really going to have my entire life turned upside down because of this.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

I groaned as I watched her leave the room in the direction of the bathroom, knowing this was her way of letting me know I shouldn’t look for her until I was prepared to apologize. But I was already ready. I knew how terrible my words had sounded, but it came from a place of love and happiness with the situation other than possessiveness. 

So, with that in mind, I rubbed my face before getting up and following her, just in time to find her reentering my bedroom. “I’m sorry, princess. I-I just didn’t know how to react when the thought of you getting an abortion popped into my mind. It’s not like you’re a fucking one night stand or a fling to me, but you’re absolutely right. It’s your body and you should do what makes you comfortable. I just ask you to keep in mind that I would love to have this child with you. I’d support you - I’d support the both of you unconditionally. I know we’ve only been dating for a few months, but I’m serious about you. I’m serious about us. I’d marry you tomorrow if it’s what you need to know how serious I really am about this. And yeah, it’s gonna be hard, but I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you, every step of the way.”

By the time I was done with my speech, she had tears in her eyes again, only this time, I knew what it was about, so I only chuckled. “Come here, sweetheart.” I pulled her to me, hugging her close to my body as I caressed the back of her head. “We’re gonna be okay, one way or another.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna abandon me with a small child?” I knew that her question came from a place of insecurity, but I still couldn’t control myself as a growl escaped my chest, my hands tightening around her, as I reminded her, “You’re mine, baby girl. I’m never gonna leave you. Don’t even think that.”

Slowly, she stopped crying, until only a few sniffles were heard every once in a while. “Okay,” she mumbled in a small voice, clearing the bedroom from what was once a silent atmosphere.

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s do this. Let’s… Let’s have a baby together.”

A huge smile slowly took over my face as I cradled hers in mine to make sure there was no trace of hesitation in her eyes. “We’re gonna be parents?”

“We’re gonna be parents,” she confirmed, accepting my hug again. “Well, you’re already a parent.” The reminder had me chuckling to myself.

“I can’t wait to tell Jacob about this. He’s going to flip.” The mischievous tone in my voice earned me a playful slap on the shoulder. 

“No teasing him more than necessary, Andrew. He’s already going to be pretty affected by this.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.16

No One

02/04/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,025

Warnings: angst, jealousy, crying, infertility, talk of pregnancy, trouble conceiving, smut, LOTS of fluff

A/N: I’m sorry this one took me a bit to get out. I know y’all tell me not to be sorry but I am still sorry lol I stopped taking my endo meds since I can no longer afford them with no healthcare, I got my period and my endo said FUCK YOU! I was in bed for the entirety of my period with no energy to do anything but lay there and do nothing. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’ve been excited to get to this chapter and I hope it’s worth the wait. Thank you for any comments or reblogs! xoxo

Thor has never been so eager to get back to New Asgard. Even back in the beginning when Jane had been living with him in those first small houses that they’d built when his new Kingdom was nothing but a distant dream.

Even then, this sensation of yearning had not been so strong.

Every moment away from you has been unbearable. The detour he’d taken after just arriving only increased his desire because if seeing Jane has shown him anything it’s that he has indeed made the right choice.

He really hadn’t doubted it, but it’s nice to know that even with Jane standing inches away from him, his heart had not pounded. His breath had not caught. His fingers had not tingled as they once had in their wish to touch.

Her brown eyes, once beyond beautiful, are indeed still pretty. However, they aren’t yours. Yours that look at him with an innocent admiration. Love pours from them so freely. Eagerly.

You’re not afraid to show him how you feel and it takes his breath away how much you’ve given into loving him.

All he can do is try to return your love with the same fervor. So far he thinks he has been doing the job well.

As he struts forward towards your shared bedroom, he reaches into his cloak, down along his left hip to unhook a small leather satchel bulging with its contents.

Smiling down at what he hopes will be a welcome and pleasing gesture, he makes to open the doors to the room but finds them thrust out towards him.

Instinctively his hand twitches around the satchel, almost throwing his palm out to call his remade hammer, but he resists.

From his bedroom spill two beings. One Asgardian, one human. The doors swing shut behind them.

“Doctor Wilson? Alric?” Thor teeters back onto his right foot, completely surprised to see them. “What brings-?”

Both of them look grave and Thor’s heart hits the pit of his stomach. All of the strength in the universe leaves him in one terrifying instant.

“Is Y/N alright? Is she hurt? Injured? Has something happened?”

In his panic he begins to push through them and they move aside for him but before he can open the doors to get in to see you, Alric reaches out to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Just our monthly visit, nothing to fret about Your Majesty,” Alric assures him and yet, Thor’s squirming nerves are not put at ease. “Unfortunately things do not look well for an heir as of now.”

“They don’t exactly look bad either, Alric,” Doctor Wilson interjects. “We’re in uncharted territory, Your Majesty. We have to play this as it comes at us. I’m sure with Alric’s help we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Their words at the moment aren’t making any sense to Thor. All he wants is to see you.

“Right…” he says on reflex, but his voice is weak.

His mind on you and only you.

“She is a little melancholy after our news so, perhaps it’s best we let you go see her. Until next month, Your Majesty,” Doctor Wilson gives him a curtsy. “If you need us before then, you have our numbers.”

Alric gives Thor a bow and the two of them march off, Alric lugging a strange metal case along with him.

With nothing to hold him back now, Thor pulls the doors open and hurries inside.

He scans the room from the left to the right, expecting you in the bathroom but you aren’t there. Several of the doors to the balcony are open letting in a much warmer breeze than this morning but still very cool.

Thor finally spots you sitting at your vanity, your hand pressed to the inside of your elbow as you hold a small cotton ball against the point at which one of your doctors probably drew some blood.

Even that tiny sting of a needle piercing your beautiful skin makes his heart ache. Any pain you feel is his own and he can’t believe he forgot what today was.

“Cherub?”

You don’t look at him and instead keep your hand pressed tightly, fingers moving in slow and small circles.

He can’t see your face from here. You’re turned away, sitting with your gaze trained on the balcony doors closest to your vanity.

Thor can’t take you not looking at him. He sets his satchel on the chaise at the end of the bed and when he reaches your left side, he squats down so that he can look up at you, his right hand taking gentle hold under your left bicep. His left hand he places over your right one, pressed against the inside of your left elbow.

“I’m sorry about today. I forgot they were coming for your tests,” Thor confesses, feeling so guilty he could leap from the balcony and welcome the pain of any bones he might break.

The silence is heavy and he thinks he might really be in for it and opens his mouth to plead for your forgiveness when you give him relief, “So did I.”

He breathes in deeply and with a wave of relief releases his worries in a gust of air.

“Alric said that things did not look good. You’re not with child?”

Even though he knows, he still needs to hear you say it. He wants to know what you’re thinking to make whatever is making your face look so sad go away.

He takes his right hand and runs it along your lower back instead, rubbing in what he hopes is a soothing way.

Finally, you turn your head towards your vanity and he can see more of your heartbreaking expression. He hasn’t seen that loss of hope in your beautiful face since the night you begged him not to make a fool of you just before dinner on a night that feels a lifetime away.

“No, it-it wasn’t a no. The test was inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive? So, what does that mean? Does that mean they don’t know?” Thor asks, confusion twisting his handsome face.

“No, it just means that the test didn’t come back in any way that they could read it. We’re not exactly the same species even if we are compatible physically, we don’t know if we can even get pregnant. They took more of my blood and are going to do the test with more reliable equipment.

“They’ll call when they know something,” you sigh heavily, leaning back against your seat and trapping his hand between it and your body.

Thor tries to think of what he can say to make you feel better. What can he do?

And then what he has to say doesn’t matter as you turn to meet his gaze with your own full of betrayal and suspicion.

When your mouth parts, your words freeze him and his brain short circuits.

“I saw you with Jane earlier on the tower, Thor. I’m sorry but I-I thought you were going to come find me as soon as you got back, not your ex.”

You take a deep breath and Thor watches as your nerves spill forward, your lips trembling as you slowly exhale and all of your fears shine out through the depths of your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you crying, cherub?” Thor gushes, pulling his hand from your back to turn your seat to face him.

He cups both sides of your face, his large thumbs wiping away at the tears that spring forward.

It had seriously messed with you to see him and Jane so happy and close earlier. And then the tests and Doctor Alric and Doctor Wilson had no idea what was wrong with them so that was stressing you out.

All of your jealousy and frustration pours out of you suddenly. So fast and so unrelenting that with just this small bit of affection from Thor makes you shut your eyes tight as you sob two-three times.

“Y/N...no, my love, please. Don’t cry,” Thor begs, his own throat tight as he pulls you towards him.

You let him hold you because as insecure as you feel, as upset as this morning has made you, his love still feels real. The softness in his voice doesn’t sound fake and as much as he is the source of one of the aches in your chest, he’s your comfort now too.

How fucked up is that?!

He caresses the back of your head as you bury it against his shoulder, slumped down a little because of how low he is in his squat.

His other arm is wrapped all the way around you, firm. Possessive and eager to make you feel better. Can you trust this display?

Until this morning you had no reason to doubt it.

“We will have our baby soon, I know it. I can feel it. I’m not only the God of Thunder, you know? Trust me, cherub. I know these things. We’ll have our little one before you know it.”

He sounds so confident, so sure. He’s lost that tightness in his throat a little and he pushes you back so that he can look into your eyes, quickly wiping away at the saltwater stains on your cheeks.

“As for your former worry, I went to the tower because the lights were on. I wasn’t sure who was there so I simply went to check. I wasn’t expecting Jane out of all the people it could have possibly been.

“I’d hoped it was you, finally making use of the tower for your own office to write or perhaps your own personal library?” Thor’s instincts on what you might want a private space to be.

You suddenly feel foolish for doubting him for even a second. It makes you cry again, and you bury your face in your hands.

“No, my love, please don’t cry anymore,” he continues to beg. “Look, I’ve brought you a gift.”

He gets up suddenly and moves towards the package he’d been carrying when he came in. It wasn’t large. About the size of a shoebox.

“I thought of you when I was passing over Paris on my way home. You can eat them all at once or slowly, whichever you prefer,” He flips open the leather satchel and from inside pulls a thick and shiny rust colored box with a satin brown ribbon that delicately holds it closed.

It looks expensive and he doesn’t wait for you to take it since you’re too busy wiping at your cheeks and sniffling to grab it. He pushes the ribbon off of the box then removes the lid and places it underneath while tossing the ribbon onto your vanity.

“I’m not sure what each of them is, but you don’t have to eat the ones you don’t like. I’ll eat them for you,” he pushes fancy gold tissue paper aside to expose the contents within.

Inside the box is a tray of twenty-four chocolate pieces. Some of them have designs painted on them with what is more likely more chocolate in bright colors and patterns. Other pieces look to be decorated in plain chocolate with small embossed hearts, triangles, or teeny tiny bows.

The box is too thick for this to be all there is, so you’re pretty sure there are two trays of chocolates.

“Do you like them?” Thor checks, his voice light and rising at the end gently almost as if he’s talking to a small child which maybe should offend you?

But it doesn’t because you know that’s not what he means by the tone he’s using. He’s being as gentle with you as he can in your moment of sad anxiety and you love him so much for it.

“They’re so pretty…” you hiccup, wishing you weren’t so emotional and crying all over his lovely gift.

“That’s not all,” he tells you, putting the chocolates on your vanity to free up his hands to reach into his satchel again.

You quickly cover the chocolates, pushing the ribbon around the sleek container before they can be ruined.

Thor tosses the satchel onto the chaise with a flick of his wrist but draws your attention to him when he places another box on your lap. This one is much smaller, but wide and square.

“Happy two months of marriage, cherub,” Thor says softly, then carefully lifts the lid of his second gift.

Nestled within lush purple velvet is a beautiful platinum chain, thin, short so that the gorgeous lotus flower with your birthstone gem settled at its very center will sit just below your collarbone.

“It’s so beautiful, Thor.”

All of a sudden you’re crying again.

Thor smiles and rises again, taking the necklace from inside the box which he tosses onto the chaise too before moving around behind you to slip the necklace around your neck.

You reach up to place your fingers on the pretty flower, sniffling and trying not to make your crying too vocal but a sob or two slips out.

Thor moves back around you and takes a long look at your mess of a face before he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, “Come here, love.”

He waits for you to stand then takes your spot on your seat but then leads you down onto his lap.

Reaching up with his hand, he gives the back of your neck a squeeze while his other hand finds a resting spot on your thigh.

“Is it Jane still upsetting you?” he guesses.

You nod, unwilling to say it aloud.

“Why? What exactly is it that’s troubling you?”

He genuinely doesn’t seem to understand. While he might understand your nerves about her, the reason you’re still crying is lost on him.

You don’t want to say, but Thor bounces you a little in his lap, taking his hand to caress the side of your face and hold your gaze.

“Nothing you can say will make me love you any less.” A promise.

“When I saw you two this morning, you just looked so h-happy,” your lip quivers. “You looked happy. Pleased. You were smiling that one smile that’s only supposed to be mine.”

For some reason Thor’s chest puffs up a little, a proud fix to his chin as he reaches up to grab yours and give your head a little shake.

“It is all yours, cherub. I am completely yours. I was so happy when I was with Jane this morning because I felt nothing of what I’d once felt for her. I had no stuttering in my heart, no butterflies in my belly. I wasn’t taken by her eyes or tempted by her lips.”

“Alright, I get the picture,” you grumble, hating everything he’s describing even though you know he’s telling you that he wasn’t feeling any of it.

He chuckles, bringing his hand down to rest on your hip.

“I was happy because Jane is no longer the source of all of that for me. You are. All meeting her so unexpectedly proved is that I am more in love with you than I ever thought I could be. You were my arranged match. The most I had ever expected was friendship. And when that turned into more, I wondered if it could really be more than what I ever felt for Jane and it is.

“Jane was always a dear love but you are family. It’s only been a short time since we married but you are more my love than Jane ever was. You’re my cherub!”

He doesn’t wait for you to recover from his little speech. He hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss.

It quickly changes and shifts and the lonely night you’d spent tense and worried, missing him, explodes you onto him. You’re both a frenzy of movement, Thor ripping away at his armor until he’s in the plain dark undershirt and a very small pair of black briefs.

You’re about to push him onto your bed when he suddenly grabs you and tosses you around his massive body and onto the bed to bounce as you land with a gasp.

He shoves his briefs down, still kicking them away as he steps towards you and gathers the long skirts of your dress higher and higher around your hips.

“Thor…” you whisper, a gasp of anticipation which drives him a little wild as he yanks you closer to the edge of the bed and thrusts into you with a shaky groan.

He goes still for a moment, hooking his hands around your thighs more securely. He bottoms out, sheathing his cock within you until you reach down to scratch at the bottom of his shirt then his hands as you fall back against the bed.

“Please,” you plead and he quickly obliges.

He pumps into you, filling you to the brim with no intention of ever stopping.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor eventually come out of your room. You dressed in your carefully chosen dress and Thor a little less regal in a pair of crisp dark jeans, and layered up in a green sweater over a blue button up collar shirt over a plain white t-shirt.

Honestly though, even in his slightly more casual ensemble, Thor screams royalty. He’s so beautiful.

Both of you giggling like giddy kids, he pulls you closer and loops your arm through his.

It makes you happy that he likes you close by. He proves it now as he leans down to whisper so that only you can hear him as the palace staff moves about cleaning and fixing up the rooms that have been used throughout the day.

“I’m a little glad you’ve decided not to use the tower for a workspace.” Thor confesses.

“How come?” you wonder, turning your face to look at him, genuinely curious as to the change of mind. He’d been so insistent before about you having your own personal space to work in peace where no one could bother you and you didn’t have to give up writing your stories even if you were now Queen of New Asgard.

“I don’t know if I could stand having you that far away from me. Our night apart has only driven that home for me. I want you always at my side.”

His sentiment is sweet and you stop to turn and face him, reaching up to place your hands on his bearded cheeks to smoosh them because he’s so damn adorable. He’s massive so you have to push yourself up, lifting your heels a little to do so comfortably.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly lovable that makes you?” you ask.

He smiles despite you morphing his face, beaming down at you with a look that must mean he loves you. Everything he says has to be true. The more you think about it, the more you realize that your jealousy, while founded, doesn’t make any sense now that you’re married.

Not after everything the two of you have shared and been through. Not after all the time you’ve spent building this foundation with him. 

“Quite a lot more than I was before?” he guesses. “Only, maybe not when I go to the bathroom?”

Through your smile you tilt your head to the side a little, confused by his amendment to his desires.

“Why?” What difference does it make?

He drops his voice to a whisper and leans down a little closer to you, “Sometimes I have smelly poops.”

You’re not expecting that and throw your head back as a loud unfiltered laugh rips through you. The movement pulls you down flat onto your feet but Thor catches you with one arm around your waist to pull you back up onto your toes and against his hard body.

He’s laughing too as he dips down and kisses your laughing mouth, silencing you a little so that it’s only air slipping through your lips as you kiss him back.

It’s just a long held peck. He’s relishing in the feel of your lips against his as your body shakes with more laughter.

Still laughing with you, Thor pulls back and gripes, “Stop laughing and kiss me!”

You drop your head against his chest as you keep laughing, unable to help it because the cuteness of him being self-conscious about his smelly poops is too much for you to handle.

Especially considering that you’ve both already been in the bathroom together when the other is using the toilet.

He loosens his arm around your waist so that you fall down a little further but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back while the other hand he places on the back of your head, caressing it as you chuckle weakly from laughing so much.

The sound of a clearing throat brings both your heads turning to the end of the hallway.

Your visiting trio stand there, Tony smirking, Bruce smiling shyly, Jane averts her eyes.

“Uh, get a room?” Tony suggests, but you can tell from his tone that he’s only teasing.

“Where do you think we’ve been all morning?” Thor grins, readjusting with you to hook your arm on his elbow before leading you towards your guests.

“So that’s what those screams were,” Tony counters.

Thor wiggles his eyebrows at them but your neck burns and your mouth pops open in surprise and embarrassment.

You start to fret, hands fluttering up towards your new necklace as you look from Tony to Jane, who’s looking at her shoes, to Bruce who is smiling with his own laughter in his eyes.

“Was I-? I didn’t mean to-! Thor, I didn’t know that I was being-” your panic is real and your heart is thrumming a million miles an hour.

“He’s teasing you, cherub, don’t worry,” Thor assures you, dropping your arm from his elbow to wrap his own arm around your waist to pull you into his side again.

You turn to Tony and he’s laughing a little. Not maliciously, just purely entertained by your reaction.

“I-a joke?” you ask him, still uncertain.

“Sorry,” Tony says, nodding. “Just a joke.”

You swallow hard, trying to settle your heartbeat.

Thor kisses your head and like a switch is flipped, all of them shift into work mode.

“Have you started installing the security system?” Thor asks Tony and all together the five of you move down into the lowest level of the palace which actually happens to be a dungeon?

You’re not really listening to their conversation as you move with them, still flustered about you possibly letting all of your sex noises reverberate through the halls of the palace for everyone to hear, but when you reach a large vault-like door, you start to focus again.

As the heavy door slides open like part of some futuristic spaceship, you’re thrown into a large room about the size of the throne room where you’d had your wedding reception only it looks nothing like the rest of the palace.

This place looks more like the Avengers compound. High-tech stations line the walls, large monitors with readings you don’t understand and camera footage from places you recognize from around New Asgard and the palace itself.

There’s a full crew working all of the stations, Asgardians and humans, all of them wearing the same charcoal gray uniforms, splashes of gold and red like Thor’s cape on their shoulders and chests.

As you and Thor enter, they stop what they’re doing to stand at attention, bowing to both of you as Thor leads you to the center of the room where a large stone table is set with schematics of plans that you don’t understand.

Tony moves over to them and starts to sift through the many scrolls all laid out for viewing while Thor nods to the crew.

“At ease, my friends.”

He’s so nice. The crew fall back into their respective jobs.

One of them moves towards a large screen against the wall, a TV you realize, playing different news footage from all over the world.

He flips to another channel and you pull away from Thor to walk and stand beside the crewman who stands taller once you’re beside him.

He turns to you and gives you a quick bow, “Your Majesty.”

Turning to him, you smile and then look back at the screen, “To monitor any weird things happening around Earth?”

“Yes, m’am,” he asserts then flips the channel again.

This time it’s a documentary style report, you see a familiar scene. New York in shambles as Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Hulk, Captain America, and your Thor fight off the invading Chitauri.

Slowly another body settles beside you, its warmth drawing your attention to it.

“I still remember that day, sort of,” Bruce says gently, his voice always so easy and calm.

It’s hard to believe he can turn into the giant Hulk in seconds.

“Was it scary?”

“Sort of. I think for me, I was just worried that Hulk would hurt someone other than the aliens. But by then I think he understood what side we were on.” Bruce nods.

“But, aren’t you the Hulk?” His words confuse you a little.

“Well, yeah, but also no. He’s like another half of me? If that makes sense? I haven’t worked out how to combine both sides yet. I’m there, I’m just...it’s like someone takes who you are and reduces you to your most basic instincts.

“We’re almost like two different people but we’re also the same person. I’m working on understanding our connection better. Underneath the Hulk, I’m still me. I’m still there I think. I’m just trapped for some reason.”

The two of you watch the screen in silence for a moment then Thor shows up, blasting the Chitauri with his lightning. He looks a little different because he has both eyes and his hair!

“Thor had long hair,” you realize, gushing a little.

“Did I look better with long hair?” his deep voice slips into your right ear and you jump not having been expecting it.

“Not better,” you promise him, smiling at him before turning your eyes back on the TV. “Just different. It suits you.”

“Should I grow it back?”

With excitement, you turn to face him and he chuckles at whatever look you have in your eyes, “Would you? Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“If it will make you look at me the way you’ve been staring at me on that television, I will go out and buy a wig.”

You laugh and Thor leans down to give you a quick peck.

“It’s that time of year I guess,” Tony says, sliding over to stand on Bruce’s other side where Jane is already standing having moved over at some point.

She still hasn’t said anything.

“What time of year?” You wonder.

“Oh, in Spring they always start to play footage on some of the news channels about Loki’s party days in New York. Some type of anniversary celebration or something? Only it’s more like a wake.”

“It’s a memorium,” you realize, then look at Thor who seems to sense your upset.

He wraps his arm around you and settles in beside you, kissing the top of your head again.

“Where is Loki?” you ask him, frowning with worry and wondering if it must upset him to have one of his biggest mistakes thrown in his face for weeks.

“He’s tending to business with the guard. He’ll come find us when he’s finished,” Thor promises.

After a tense moment, Tony claps his hands and then pats Bruce’s shoulder, “Shall we? Pepper wants me home by Friday so that we can explore the wonderful art of tantric massage.”

As Bruce turns to follow Tony back to the center table where a new console computer has come from a panel at the center you hadn’t noticed, he gives him a skeptical look.

“Pepper? Are you sure it isn’t you pushing the tantric massage?” Bruce sounds like he already knows the answer.

Tony shrugs, “I’m not the bossy anymore.”

You look back at the TV, your worry only spiking at the thought of Loki coming down here and finding all of you watching.

“Change it to something else,” you tell the crewman. “Make sure no one puts it on that channel again.”

“Yes, m’am,” he bows his head in obedience and quickly changes the channel while moving to a small box hooked up to it where a small screen comes out and he quickly goes about pressing buttons hopefully blocking any and all sources of that footage so that Loki doesn’t accidentally have his face shoved into his past.

“Don’t worry, my cherub. Loki is well aware of what the Earth grieves at this time of year. He won’t be blindsided by it.”

“I still don’t like it,” you insist, unable to shake the frown from your face.

“Thor?” Jane’s voice interrupts you both softly.

He looks at her and you give her a glance before turning to look at the news reports on the TV.

“I’m gonna need one of these mainframes for the telescope. Which one can I take?”

“Right,” Thor nods, “Of course. Let’s find you a place to work.”

Before he leaves you he leans in and kisses the side of your head again, squeezing your hip before he moves with Jane away towards the many workstations in the very large room.

After getting everything sorted out this morning, your heart doesn’t even sway towards jealousy and even though you’re worried about Loki, you breathe a sigh of relief that your realization about Thor’s loyalty has really engrained itself into you.

He loves you and nothing will change that. Even as they laugh somewhere behind you, your confidence doesn’t waver.

You reach up and touch the lotus on your necklace, a shining reminder of Thor missing you on his very first night away from you since your wedding.

You’re sure now that no one will ever come between you and Thor.

No one.

[awindylife-writes]

Meeting Martha

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, Martha x reader (platonic), Martha x Doctor (platonic), Rose x reader (mentioned, platonic)

Summary: s3e1 Smith and Jones rewrite. The Doctor and you meet Martha and defeat the Plazmavore Florence.

Warnings: short description of a panic attack, mentions of the loss of Rose, the Doctor almost dies again

Genre: angst and fluff

You had just gone to get a cocoa. Just a cocoa, from the coffee machine, in a hospital, ON EARTH, and then suddenly there was an earthquake and you were ON THE MOON. You had stopped to help the terrified people around you and then when you got back the Doctor's room, HE WAS GONE. And you couldn't even go looking for him because there were SPACE RHYNOS marching around. You evaded them, because you figured they were searching for aliens and for all you knew you were alien enough to be in danger. And that meant the Doctor was DEFINITELY in danger and that made breath catch in your throat.

Okay okay okay. Don't panic, just don't panic. He's okay, he's clever, he'll stay alive long enough for you to find him.

You breathed deeply and started your search.

~

Dangerdangerdanger and he couldn't go looking for Y/N, there wasn't enough time. He knew she was clever and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but the thought of her alone, out of his sight slipping through his fingers youcan'tprotecther everythingyoutouchcrumblestodustNONONONO-

Martha was calling his name in worry.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," the Doctor assured her as soon as he could breathe.

She gave him a flat look. "I'm almost a doctor, Doctor, and that was a panic attack." She squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?" she all but demanded.

He found himself speaking, "I have a friend, Y/N, she was here with me, and she's not here. She can take care of herself," he assured Martha, "but..." Griefgriefgrief a hole in his chest that could swallow the universe, terror coursing through him like a river and he'll drown-

He was prepared this time and managed to pull himself out, focused on Martha's warm hand in his. "We don't have time for this," he told mostly himself but her too and turned back to the computer. Distraction, he needed a distraction.

Seemingly coming to a decision, Martha asked helpfully, "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know, say, any patient admitted in the past week with unusual simptoms? Maybe there's a backup!" He grabbed the computer and started examining it.

"Just- Keep working," Martha told him. "I'll go ask Mister Stoker, he might know." She left, throwing a worried look over her shoulder.

~

"That's the thing about Slabs, they always travel in pairs.

"Where the hell have you been?" You finally found the Doctor crouching behind a water dispenser. He was with a doctor, and wasn't that funny. "And why are you barefoot?" you went on in disbelief before he could answer, then decided you really didn't care. At least he was alive, which meant they hadn't found him yet. Relief was so, so good.

You waved in a 'nevermind' gesture and turned to the woman crouching beside him. "Hello, I'm Y/N Y/S," you offered her your hand with a smile. She took it and you helped her stand up. "I travel with him. I hope he hasn't been rude yet."

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, offended. You grinned fondly at him and then focused back on the doctor.

"I'm Martha, Martha Jones. And no, he hasn't been rude yet," she replied, returning the smile and firmly shaking your hand.

"Nice to meet you," you said, pleased, and then there was a platoon of pink rhinos four steps away from you.

"Run!" you yelled, and off you went. (The feeling of the Doctor's warm hand in yours did wonders for your nerves, even though you were being shot at.)

~

"Y/N, I need time," the Doctor told you.

"Okay, what do we do?" you asked, looking between him and the aproaching army.

"Hold them up." The Doctor was holding your face in his hands and kissed your cheek. "Stay here, get processed!" he ordered and then he was off.

You and Martha glanced at each other.  "Well, this should be fun," you remarked. "Don't worry, you're completely safe. You should go before me so they don't mistake you for my associate."

Martha shook her head. "Wait, aren't you an alien too? What if they execute you?" she asked, her black eyes wide with worry.

"Nah, I'm as human as you are," you assured her with a grin and then there were rhynos marching down the corridor towards you. You never did ask the Doctor their name, there hadn't been time.

They flashed that light in Martha's face ("Human.") and then it was your turn.

"Human. Wait. Non-human trace suspected. Non-human element confirmed. Authorize full scan." They pushed you against the wall.

"What are you. What are you."

~

When the army moved on, you and Martha followed them.

Then there was a room, and a door, and then there was the Doctor. He was on the floor, unmoving. He was as white as a sheet. He wasn't breathing.

"Conformation - deceased."

Everything stopped.

There was someone rushing past you but you didn't care. Then there was something cold against your back and you slid down to the floor. There were shouts and screams but they were so far away.

The chasm in your chest opened and swallowed you whole. There was nothing. There was nothing anymore.

Sometime after darkness took you.

~

Your eyes flew open and you gasped for breath. You sat up, looki-

Doctor. The Doctor was holding your hand, warm and grinning and alive. Something in you burst and you fell around his neck. He held you tightly as you clung to him, desparatly repeating, "You're-alive-you're- alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-"

"I'm here. I'm here, I'm so sorry, I'm here..." his soft voice joined yours.

You realized you were sobbing and hot tears were streaming down your face. "I thought-" Your voice broke and you couldn't go on. You buried your nose in his shoulder instead, eyes closed, and breathed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I didn't know any other way." His warm breath brushed your neck. The Doctor's voice was tight with sorrow, but there was fear too. Fear that he'd gone too far.

You stopped him, "I know. I know. And I don't blame you, but if you ever-"

"I won't," the Doctor cut you off and held you even tighter. "I swear I'll try to stay alive. I'll be careful, at least for the time being," he vowed, his voice serious.

You nodded into his shoulder. "Good. 'Cause I know what we do is dangerous, and that this'll probably happen again, but please, not now. Not yet." (Not after Rose went unspoken, but you both heard it.

"I promise," he vowed and something in you relaxed. This didn't mean the pain is gone, but the terror had been subjued. You would carry their marks for a long time.

The Doctor gently let go of you enough to see your face. "Promise me too," he pleaded softly.

You were a bit lost so he went on, "D'you think I could bear it any better if it had been you?" His voice was increduolus but full of sorrow, like he couldn't believe you didn't know already.

You squeezed his hand with a nod. "I promise."

He exhaled in relief and found your gaze with his own, then he smiled and his beautiful brown eyes were a little brighter. You returned the smile.

He pulled you to him again now, and you settled in his arms. You held each other for a long time.

~

When you finally let go, Martha came closer. She'd been opening the windows, and then you thought she'd just stayed away to give you some space.

"Who did you lose?" she asked gently. She wasn't stupid. She was a doctor and she knew grief.

The Doctor and you turned to look at her, and then glanced at each other. "Rose," he answered. You could hear the pain in his voice. "Her name was Rose."

"She was our best friend," you continued. "We loved her, we were a family, and she's gone." You were NOT going to cry.

"She isn't dead," the Doctor gently reminded you, holding your eyes with his intense gaze. "She isn't."

"I know. I know. But we'll never see her again," you said to him and goddamnit you were on the verge of tears. "Not ever."

"She's in a parallel universe," the Doctor told Martha while looking at the floor, "locked away. The walls are sealed, we can't get to her and she can't get to us. The end."

Silence followed.

You took a steadying breath. "But she is alive," you nodded to yourself. "We can hold onto that. She has a future, and we have a future, just not together," you smiled sadly at the Doctor with tears in your eyes. "We'll be alright," you nodded.

He returned the smile with the same sorrow on his face. "Yeah."

You could hear talking somewhere below you, and then sirens and the crowd outside.

"We should go," you told the Doctor, looking up at his face. He sighed and nodded, then pulled himself up and offered you a hand.

After you stood up, you turned to Martha. Brave, strong, clever Martha. You stepped towards her with open arms. She smiled, her black eyes warm, and pulled you close.

"Thank you," you told her, your voice tight. "Thank you so, so much. I can't thank you enough, not just for saving everyone, but for saving him. Thank you."

She chuckled and pulled away to look at you. "You're welcome, and no problem. All there in the job title," she joked.

"Well, thank you, doctor Martha Jones," you grinned.

"But I'm not a doctor yet."

"You will be," you said and it was time.

"Right then, you two. I have patients to tend to, and I'm sure you have some place to be, so off we go." Martha waved you toward the door.

You and the Doctor left the wrecked room and started down the left, while she went down the right corridor.

Next challenge: how to get out of the hospital unnoticed. After a day like this, you thought it would be easy.

~

"What if we took Martha with us?" the Doctor suggested when you were both safe in the TARDIS.

"I think that's a fantastic idea," you replied with a smile. "But we have to make sure she doesn't feel like she's... like she's second best," you said seriously. "Like she's a rebound."

The last thing you wanted was to hurt the brilliant woman you had met. You knew the Doctor, and you knew yourself. You were both emotional messes right now but that didn't mean you got to demean Martha. You wouldn't stand for that.

"We won't," the Doctor assured you. "We're making a friend, that's it."

"That's no small thing," you told him. "And we're not taking her for just one trip, because if that's what you mean, then it's better to leave her alone," you made sure to look him in the eye. "That would just be cruel," you said sadly.

"I know," he nodded, looking down at the console. "And we're not just taking her for a spin."

"So, if she agrees, she still might not," you pointed out, "she's in for the long haul. Or until she decides she's had enough." But deep down you didn't think she would. She would always have the option to, of course, but there was something telling you that she wouldn't.

"I think she'll stay," the Doctor voiced your thoughts with a soft smile on his lips.

"You know what?" you grinned. "I think so too."

"Let's go get our Martha," he said in that playful tone of his and released the hand brake. At once the TARDIS shook wildly and you both laughed.

Off you went.

[galaxxiwrites]

hi i love your headcanons and scenarios so much!! can i request an arknights thorns x female reader nsfw oneshot?? tysm!

fjnse thank you anon!! (♡μ_μ)

Prompt: The Doctor asks Thorns to make them a drink that keeps them up for extended periods of time— the end result wasn't exactly what was intended, but it did work in keeping them awake.

Word count: 1378

warning: nsfw, please read at your own discretion :)

Energy Drink

"So...you're asking for an energy drink?" Thorns tilts his head ever so slightly, just enough to show his confusion upon hearing the Doctor's request.

"Yes, but stronger. Something to keep me up for...a few days at least."

Again, Thorns is flabbergasted by such a peculiar request. He opens his mouth, about to ask just why she would need to stay up for a few days.

"Contingency Contract." The Doctor says as she waves her hand in a nonchalant way, as if accepting their fate. She sighs as memories of past events slowly creep their way back into her thoughts, but immediately clears them as now was not the time for emotional vulnerability. It was time for blood.

"Extra strong energy drinks just don't pack that same punch anymore," Doctor explains as she peeks over to look up at Thorn's golden embers, pleading to him with puppy dog eyes to make them that concoction.

"I know it's not my place to lecture you on this, but no one is capable of functioning properly when they're deprived of sleep."

Thorns looks back to his desk, different chemicals in various test tubes and flasks and quickly scribbled notes on pieces of paper clutter his workspace.

"It'll be fine, it's only for a few days." The doctor waves her hand before turning around, mumbling that they'll come get the drink later in the day.

Thorns sighs, murmuring to himself that he never agreed to make something so dangerous for her. He then makes calculation in his head: which option would have a better outcome for him? On one hand, he didn't want his lover to overexert herself more than she already does. On the other hand...he's terrified of becoming the subject of her temper tantrums.

His solution was to just make a drink that stimulates the nervous system to keep them up, but slowly depresses it so Doctor could sleep at the proper time for once. Basically, a reverse of alcohol.

Working his magic, Thorns creates the desired drink— except he doesn't realize a miscalculation on his part. While it did work to relax the muscles, it wouldn't trigger drowsiness. Instead, it would end up exciting her hormones to the point of imitating a heat cycle— in short, he unknowingly made an aphrodisiac.

And he would suffer the consequences of his actions much sooner than expected.

While the doctor did feel awake, the longer the day got the more she felt...hot. It was unnatural, especially for her as she was used to wearing her hoodie no matter what the weather.

So when she ends up taking off her hoodie in the middle of the contingency contract planning, the Operators currently with her look bewildered. Many, especially the male operators, felt a lump in their throat form as they stared at the doctor.

"Doctor." Saria coughs to grab her attention. "Don't take off your jacket."

The defender operator places the jacket over the Doctor's shoulder and hugs it around her, making sure it fully covered her.

"What's the matter, Saria?"

Doctor couldn't hear the breathiness in her own voice, but the others sure could hear it clearly. Again, Saria scoffs before taking off with her, saying she'll escort Doctor back to her own private quarters.

"Doctor, next time please try to be more professional. If you're feeling even slightly unwell, then please don't hesitate to take the day off."

Saria leaves as quickly as she spoke, confusing the doctor even more. Left to her own devices, the Doctor thinks of why everyone reacted the way they didー or at least, she tries to even make a single coherent thought. The heat building up inside her however was getting unbearable, and thoughts of pleasuring herself started creeping in.

She doesn't resist her own temptations as she starts feeling herself; her hand softly traces her inner thigh before inserting her index finger into her womanhood.

The light teasing only drove Doctor closer to insanity—she needed more. Splaying herself on her bed, Doctor inserts another finger while her other hand massages her breast.

"Thorns." She mumbles as thoughts of her lover start filling her head. When was the last time he touched her, or when he was inside of her? It already felt so long ago, and maybe that's why she's been needy now.

Her thrusting became faster when she imagined his member inside her. Oh how she longed for him, his touch and kisses, his warmth—his everything.

Her imagination would ultimately cause her heat to become more unbearable as her fingers slowly start to leave her unsatisfied.

"Doctor, are you okay? I heard from Saria that—"

Thorns stops mid sentence when he sees her, legs wide open to reveal her dripping wet pussy, the sweet smell of her pre-cum flooded her room, almost intoxicating the eccentric guard.

He immediately closes the door, in fear of anyone else witnessing the sight he wants to keep for himself. His breathing became ragged as he continued to watch the Doctor desperately pleasuring herself, so lost in her own world that she didn't even hear him.

Thorns comes to Doctor's beside, shocking her so much that she abruptly stops and tries to apologize for her lewd behavior. Without saying a word, Thorns gives her a kiss.

A long, passionate, and hungry kiss. Doctor rubs her hand lightly against the tented area in his pants. Feeling his bulging manhood twitch at her touch, she smirks before bringing out his hardened member and starts stroking it teasingly slow.

Thorns whimpers her name as he pulls away from the kiss, only exciting the heated doctor even more. He then adjusts her so she would be facing him; he rubs the tip of his dick against her wet lips before slowly thrusting himself in her.

"Doctor," Thorns gasps as he feels her walls cling tightly around him. "You're so—tight."

Thorns grips on the doctor's thighs as he continues to slowly push himself deeper into her, causing Doctor to pull on her bed sheets as she was being stretched wide.

"Loosen up a bit." He grunts against her ear. Doctor gasps as she starts feeling him move, and try as she might she was far too excited to even try and calm down.

Doctor starts scratching Thorns' back in response to his more consistent movement. However, once she started getting accustomed to his girth and length, the pain subsided and was replaced with unthinkable pleasure.

"That it—keep moving like that…!" She whimpers as her legs wrap around his waist. Thorns trails hickeys on the doctor's neck as he thrusts deep in her, his pace steadily becoming faster the more the doctor loosened up.

"Ah, fuck…! That's it!" She yelped as he hit her sweet spot. "Fuck me there! More!"

He had not seen the Doctor this needy before, and he wishes that she would act like this a bit more.

"I've never seen you this...desperate, Doctor." Thorns whispers in a dangerously low and husky voice against her ear, almost bringing her to the edge.

"I want you—!" Doctor doesn't hesitate to beg as she starts matching his rhythm.

So lost in their euphoria, the couple continued without uttering anything else other than their needy groans and pleasured whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Thorns…! Thorns—! I," Doctor could not continue her sentence as she was hitting her climax, and he understood it well even without her having said anything as he walls tighten around him once more.

"Me too." Was all he said before moving at a slower, but more forceful pace. And with one last thrust, the both of them orgasmed.

Thorns, after releasing all his load into the doctor, slowly takes himself out of her. His semen, mixed with the doctor's, slowly trailed out of her womanhood. He smirked as he saw her queef before releasing a bit more of her thick juices.

Through ragged breaths, they give each other one more messy kiss before Thorns lays down, exhausted. He was about to close his eyes too, until he felt the familiar weight and heat of the doctor on top of him.

"Done already? But we're just getting started."

Doctor purrs as she traced circles on Thorn's heaving chest.

"We're not stopping until I'm cum-plete-ly satisfied~ Hehe."

[morganaspendragonss]

give me all your love now

full credit for the idea goes to jamie ( @silvarafael ), i am just the person lucky enough to be trusted to write it. thank you for letting me, lovely, i hope i did it justice 💚

title from we might be dead by tomorrow by soko

ao3 | 2.6k | 2.12 fix-it of sorts

The fire is everywhere, and all TK can think is that they’re going to die here.

For all his training, for all his experience, panic still has him by the throat; he’s been trapped in fire plenty of times before, but it’s never been like this. It’s never been his house, never been his boyfriend in danger. Carlos’s terrified gaze locks onto his as they crouch on the bedroom floor, and TK has to force himself to focus because it’s not just his life on the line anymore — Carlos needs him to take charge.

He searches through the smoke for something, anything, that could help them, his eyes eventually alighting upon the window. 

“The window,” he says, coughing. “How far down do you think that drop is?”

Carlos frowns. “Um, I—twenty feet? Twenty-five?”

TK barely manages to suppress a wince; a twenty foot drop is no joke, and visions of all the different injuries they could receive flash through his mind, ranging from a few bruises to a broken neck. But the flames are getting ever closer and the smoke thicker, and he knows that there’s no other option.

Either they jump, or they die.

“Come on.” He grabs Carlos’s arm, one hand on his back to keep him low, and they stumble over to the window together. Carlos seizes a chair and slams it into the glass until it shatters, grunting with the exertion.

He takes a step backwards when it’s done, tossing the chair away and looking at TK nervously. TK understands that fear, but he refuses to let it show right now, not when Carlos is so obviously struggling as it is.

“Go on,” he says, “you go first. I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

“Okay.” Carlos nods and turns to the window, and TK takes the opportunity to let his mask slip. He folds in on himself with a hand pressed against his chest, closing his eyes as he fights to take a breath. His vision is going hazy at the edges and he knows they need to get out as soon as possible—but he refuses to leave before Carlos does. 

As much as Carlos would protest, TK knows that he is the priority in this situation. He doesn’t care what happens to him, as long as Carlos gets out and lives.

Then hands are on his face, gently bringing his head up. TK meets Carlos’s eyes, aching at the raw pain in them—Carlos so rarely lets his worry and fear show openly like this, and TK knows that the same thoughts he’s been having are running through his boyfriend’s mind.

“If we don’t…” Carlos starts, shaking his head. “If we…”

His jaw clenches, eyes going wide, and TK puts his own palms on Carlos’s cheeks, steeling himself for what they both believe might be the last words they say to each other.

He keeps his voice as calm as possible when he says, “Hey. I love you too, okay? Now go!”

He pushes on Carlos’s arm for emphasis, and lets out a breath of relief when Carlos nods and turns back around, stepping to the window. His hands clench briefly at his sides before he seems to steady himself and climbs onto the sill. Carlos sends him one last backwards glance, and TK forces a smile, a fresh pain stabbing through his heart as he gets one in return.

Then Carlos is gone, disappearing through the window with a barely audible yell. TK waits a minute, praying that Carlos is unhurt—or, as unhurt as possible—then moves forward, reaching to haul himself up.

But, before he can, the bedroom door crashes open. TK whips around, his watering eyes taking a second to recognise the bodies in the doorway as his dad and Billy.

“TK!” his dad calls. “Follow us!”

He stumbles over, gratefully accepting the damp cloth from Billy. “Dad,” he croaks. “Carlos, he—” He gestures to the window, hoping the message gets across as another coughing fit almost sends him to his knees. He’s steadied—he doesn’t know who by—then almost dragged out of the room, only aware of a guiding hand on his back and the sounds of his home collapsing around them. Dimly, he registers another voice, another set of hands, but TK can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other, everything else blending into a distorted mess of sensations.

Fresh air, when it hits, is both a blessing and a curse. TK heaves, falling to the ground as he tries to take in lungfuls of clean oxygen, but his throat is raw and his chest tight, and black spots dance in his vision as he fails to breathe. He’s vaguely aware of shapes moving around him, of the searing heat still at his back, but the burning inside him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears overwhelms it all; panic settles deep within him, and TK begins to slip as the darkness only grows.

It feels like a blink, but when he comes back to himself, the scenery is completely changed. He’s no longer outside, rough tarmac under his palms, but flat on his back, staring up at what his clouded mind slowly comes to realise is the inside of an ambulance. 

TK sits bolt upright, ignoring the dizziness that washes over him, and bats clumsily at his face until he manages to dislodge the oxygen mask someone must have strapped on him. He blinks hard, trying to clear his vision, but someone steps in front of him before he has a chance to figure out what’s going on.

“That stays on, Strand,” Captain Vega admonishes, replacing the mask over his mouth and nose. TK squints up at her, confusion clouding his thoughts.

“Cap? What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too,” she says wryly, before appearing to reconsider. “Actually, no, it’s not. Next time we’re in an ambulance together, please try and make sure that it’s because you’re doing your job, and not because you’re the patient.”

It takes a second for her words to process, but when they do, it’s like a puzzle finally falling into place. TK’s eyes widen and he shoves at the gurney, attempting to drag his uncooperative body into a standing position. He fails fairly spectacularly, his frantic wriggles leading him to almost roll off the gurney and onto the floor — if it weren’t for Tommy catching him at the last second, he’d probably have a broken nose to add to his list of injuries. Whatever those injuries are, anyway.

“Woah, woah, woah!” she cries. “What do you think you’re doing?”

TK takes a moment to breathe, the exertion setting his aching lungs aflame, then looks up at Tommy through watering eyes. “Carlos,” he gasps, the single word taking all the air he has.

Tommy’s face softens and she glances out of the ambulance. “Paramedics are with him,” she says, and TK’s heart plummets when no further explanation is forthcoming. That means… Well, he knows what it means. 

It means that Carlos is hurt, badly, and Tommy doesn’t want to tell him.

He opens his mouth to argue, to plead, to do something, but before he can, his dad appears, switching out with Tommy in the ambulance. Other paramedics he thinks he vaguely recognises from calls jump in too, slamming the doors shut behind them. One of them tries to guide him back onto the gurney, but TK fights against them, panicking as the rig rumbles to life.

“No, I can’t leave. Carlos — I need to see him. Please. Please, I—”

“TK!” His dad is gripping onto his wrists, pinning them down, and TK is too weak to stop him. “You need to calm down, okay? You inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke back there; you have to focus on breathing for us.”

“But—Carlos—”

“Is already being transported.” His dad sighs, loosening his grip. “Son… He fell twenty feet. They wanted to get him to hospital as soon as possible.”

The information sinks in slowly, the guilt following much faster. TK slumps, a sudden, intense weariness overcoming his body even as his mind goes into overdrive with worry. He still itches to know how bad Carlos is, but his imagination fills in the gaps plenty, and TK feels sick with the knowledge that whatever happened, it’s on him.

Carlos fell twenty feet, and TK was the one to tell him to jump.

This is all his fault.

*

“You should not be out of bed.”

TK looks up from pulling on the shirt Paul had donated, scowling at his dad. “I’m fine,” he counters, though his lungs decide to betray him by sending him into a coughing fit.

“Want to try that one again?”

When he’s recovered, TK takes a couple of deep breaths, then looks his dad dead in the eyes. “Sure. I’m fine.”

His voice is raspy and talking grates at his throat, but no coughs follow this time, so TK considers his point firmly proven and continues getting dressed. He can feel his dad’s gaze burning holes in his head, but he ignores him, pushing himself up onto unsteady feet.

His dad shakes his head, but walks over and lets TK lean on him. It’s frustrating to need the support; TK is grateful for it, but it also means that he can’t go anywhere without his dad agreeing to move, which he knows he’s going to refuse to do.

“The doctors wanted to keep you overnight.”

“It’s not like I’m going to leave the hospital,” TK points out. 

“But you won’t be getting any rest either, and they specifically told you to do that.”

“What do you want me to do, Dad?” he demands. The outburst hurts, but TK swallows down the pain and focuses his gaze on his dad, setting his jaw. “I need to see him; I need to know that he’s going to be okay.”

“I know that, son,” his dad says, sighing. “But you can’t take care of him if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I’m barely hurt. You were there too; you heard them say that the smoke didn’t do any real damage.” TK looks down at his shoes, bitterness welling up in him and bleeding into his voice. “‘Lucky’ was the word they used. Wish I felt it.”

A brief silence falls, then his dad shifts, pulling TK’s arm over his shoulders. “Alright, then,” he says wearily. “Let’s go.”

The walk to Carlos’s room is both too short and too long. It feels as though it takes forever to get through the endless corridors, but, by the time they’re standing outside the door, TK hasn’t even begun to prepare himself for what’s waiting for him. His dad had given him the cliffnotes version—burns, a broken arm, a nasty head wound and probable concussion, a shattered kneecap that had needed surgery, and more bruised skin than not—but hearing and seeing are two very different things.

It’s only his dad at his side that gets him to take those final few steps into the room, his hands trembling as he nears Carlos’s side.

He looks… TK wants to pretend that he’s just sleeping, but there’s a slackness to his face that betrays the lie before he can even tell it. Carlos is a light sleeper—not a restless one, but if he were truly sleeping, he would have woken up at this point, roused by so many people being in the room. 

Andrea looks up at their entrance, immediately standing to give up her chair for him. TK goes to protest, but she sends him a stern look and he wilts, accepting the seat with a grateful nod. She rubs his shoulders gently, her gaze so kind and motherly that it almost breaks something in him.

“He’ll be okay,” she murmurs.

TK swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears begin to slip down his cheeks, and he twists away when she reaches to wipe them away. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “This is all my fault.”

The frowns of everyone else in the room are practically audible, and TK burns with shame under the weight of all their gazes.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asks, his tone hard—though TK knows the anger isn’t directed at him. “You didn’t start the fire; this is the fault of that sick bastard who rigged your house.”

“Not the fire,” TK corrects quietly, opening his eyes but not daring to meet anyone’s gaze. “Carlos. Jumping out of the window was my plan. We didn’t know if or when help would come and I just… I guess I panicked because I couldn’t think of anything else, and I told him to do it. All I wanted was for him to get out safe, and now look where we are. If I’d just gone first, then—”

“Then, you’d be in the bed instead of Carlos, and the rest of us would be in exactly the same position,” Andrea interrupts. “You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, and I know you did the best you could. What matters is that you’re both alive; the rest we can figure out.”

TK shakes his head, wanting to argue, but all the fight has left him, replaced by an overwhelming guilt and sorrow. Andrea pulls him into her side as sobs wrack his body, the physical pain paling next to the open wound of seeing Carlos so still before him.

*

“Are you okay?”

TK sighs, wearily looking up at the sound of the hesitant voice from the bed. “Don’t ask me that, Carlos, please. Not now.”

Carlos purses his lips, but nods, understanding clear in his eyes. He’d woken up a day ago after sleeping for two, and to say he’d been struggling would be an understatement. The total loss of their home and all their possessions had hit him hard, and they’d spent much of that first day he was awake just holding each other, words irrelevant and unnecessary.

Today, though, has been different. The team has been trickling in and out, making attempts at light conversation and, when that’s failed, offering up reassurances and, several times, their homes if TK and Carlos need it.

TK appreciates it, but he’s glad for the quiet in this moment. It’s just the two of them, his dad taking a breather with Carlos’s parents in the cafeteria, and he feels he can finally let some of the exhaustion of the past few days show on his face.

Not all of it—he still has to keep up some sort of façade for Carlos’s sake—but it’s not as though Carlos can’t see through it anyway. They know each other too well for that.

“Hey, um, back there,” Carlos starts nervously, not needing to clarify what he means by ‘back there’, “just before I jumped. I thought… I thought we weren’t going to make it. And I just—I just couldn’t say it. I don’t know why. But it kills me that we could have died and I didn’t tell you that I love you, I—I’m sorry, TK.”

TK frowns, reaching to grasp at Carlos’s hand. “What are you talking about?” he says. “Carlos… I know you love me. You don’t need to say it for it to be true. I promise you, I know.”

“I know you do,” Carlos says. “I still should have said it.”

“Baby, no.” TK leans over and kisses Carlos’s palm, lips lingering for a long moment. “No. Don’t… Don’t think about it, okay? We’re alive, and we have the rest of our lives to say it; can we just enjoy that?”

Tears shine in Carlos’s eyes, but he manages a wobbly smile as he meets TK’s eyes. “We can try,” he allows. He sinks back into the pillows, squeezing TK’s hand as hard as he can. “I love you.”

TK smiles. “There we go,” he says softly. He kisses Carlos’s temple, resting their foreheads together and closing his eyes.

“I love you too.”

[calaofnoldor]

Winchester Welcome

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 3,878

Summary: Everyone’s ecstatic about the impending birth of your twins, but since when do these things ever go off without a hitch for the Winchesters?

Warnings: labor/birth/complications (but nothing too graphic), potential medical inaccuracies, slight angst, bit of language, dean being an awesome big bro? 

A/N: this is part 2 of ‘Dean, Don’t’ (though i think it can be read as a stand alone) which was very kindly requested by @carryonmywaywardbucky, so if you don’t like it, you can go take it up with her (jk!). also, i’m so sorry, i don’t know where all this angst/drama came from 😬

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST

Sam had one foot up on the bench seat and the other planted firmly on the floor of the Impala. He had managed to maneuver you between his legs, where he could offer comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

With one hand pressed against the side of your colossal baby bump, Sam could feel your stomach tense up each time a contraction came, and he always urged you to breathe through them. His face would be nuzzled within your hair, while his other hand kept itself busy rubbing along your neck, shoulders, arms, back, and hips. Indeed, the man had become remarkably handsy ever since you began to show and you unwittingly loved it, even now, in the throes of labor.

“Ugh, Sam!” You grabbed his wrist in a moment of frenzied pain.

“I’m here, baby! I got you, it’s OK.” Sam burrowed his nose into your neck in consolation, and you were beyond glad he had decided to join you in the backseat, despite the tight quarters.

As the blur of buildings and trees whizzed by, your contractions intensified in both strength and frequency. “This hurts more than that time I got shot,” you groaned miserably.

Sam laughed but continued to offer gentle susurrations in his low, soothing tone, lips grazing along the shell of your ear, whilst his doting, reverent fingers brushed the hair away from your face before travelling downwards to work their magic along the base of your spine.

Although Dean tried to grant the two (soon to be four) of you some privacy, he was still able to hear every whisper of love and encouragement Sam uttered your way. He knew that there was nearly nothing his brother hated more in this world than to see you in pain and figured Sam had been doing a pretty awesome job so far, considering. And you, of course - as proven countless times before - had the pain tolerance of an indie wrestler, and Dean had never been more aware of or impressed by the fact than right now.

On this, your boyfriend agreed wholeheartedly. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing so good,” he commended with pride as you huffed through yet another massive cramp, your hands laid protectively across your distended belly.

But something didn’t feel right. Your contractions were growing closer together at an alarming rate, though no one cared to vocalize it, and although you were tempted to pull your usual shit of swallowing your discomfort in silence, you reminded yourself that this time it was about more than just you.

“Ohhh,” you finally let yourself moan aloud, “Sam, I think you might have to check me.”

“Check you?” Dean asked from the driver’s seat; his voice was a little higher than usual.

“To see how far she’s dilated,” Sam replied for you. “Baby, I can’t do that unless Dean pulls over. Do you think we should stop the car? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you rasped, “There’s just a lot of pressure and it feels like there’s no break between the contractions anymore.” The string of words left you panting, and you leaned further back into Sam’s embrace.

“What’s the sitch, guys? We stopping the car or should I keep driving?” Dean questioned as he turned his classic rock down a little lower.

“Keep driving,” you confirmed weakly.

Dean complied but made a point to meet Sam’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They shared a brief moment of wordless, brotherly communication, after which Sam nodded resolutely, his jaw set and eyes ablaze with a mixture of fear and rigid determination.

As the tension in the car mounted, however, the tension in your body seemed to fade. You felt awful for becoming so depleted this early into your labor. You hadn’t even given birth to one of the twins yet, and already you were feeling drained. How could you possibly carry on this way? But all these thoughts quickly disappeared when the weariness became too much.

“Y/N?” Sam looked down at you with furrowed brows. He could feel your body growing limp within his arms.

“Sammy, I don’t feel so good,” you whispered hoarsely. Dean would have thought this was a very normal thing to say during labor, but the change of tone in your voice alerted him to something more.

Sam too, was immediately alert. He scanned your form and noticed two terrifying things right away: first, there was blood on your pants and second, your eyelids seemed to be drooping involuntarily.

“Y/N? Baby, stay with me,” he pleaded as he gave your shoulders a light shake, “Come on, wake up Y/N!” But the darkness was beginning to take over, and you could no longer respond.

“Dean, she’s bleeding,” Sam spoke as an urgent aside, his heart pounding wildly inside his chest.

Dean could tell his brother was beginning to panic, just as he always did when your well-being was on the line, and he knew he needed to remain calm for Sam. “What? OK, just hold on, Y/N/N! We’re almost there.” Dean’s lead foot pushed even harder against the gas pedal.

Behind him, Sam held you tightly in his arms, filling your ears with delicate murmurs of reassurance, desperate for you to wake up. “Come on, baby. You promised me. Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be OK.” But even as he said this, he saw more blood seep through your pants. “Dean, drive faster!”

About to tell Sam that he was already going thirty over the speed limit, Dean made the wise decision to shut up and simply put the pedal to the metal, his face a mask of absolute focus.

It was only a matter of minutes, during which you drifted in and out of consciousness, before the Impala screeched to a halt in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. Dean scrambled out of the car at lightning speed and ran around to open the rear, passenger-side door for you.

Likewise, Sam wasted no time lifting you into his arms and bounding out of the car, practically sprinting towards the reception area. It was an impressive feat of strength, even for Sam, but Dean knew his little brother would have moved mountains for you and those babies if he needed to.

A nurse was there to greet Sam upon his frantic and rather rowdy entrance.

“Help! I need help! My wife’s in labor with our twins, and she passed out on the way here! Her water already broke a-and she’s bleeding!”

The two of you had created fake identities when you decided on a hospital birth, concerned about the chances of complications for delivering twins (and big ones at that), and Sam had never been more grateful for the foresight. He had suggested you go with the credentials of husband and wife to make things easier and ensure the hospital would give him all the privileges of a marital status. Fortunately, despite his hysterical state, Sam hadn’t even hesitated when he called you his wife; the word just seemed to roll off his tongue naturally.

Meanwhile, Dean glanced at his beloved car for a moment, its keys left haphazardly in the ignition. There was a slight grimace on his face as he faltered, considering whether he should go park his Baby in a more legal location or let her get towed and head directly to you and his brother. When he looked back towards the ER and saw your head lolling against Sam’s shoulder, he made his decision. Sam needed him, and Dean would be damned if he didn’t fulfill his lifelong job as the solid and unwavering base of support for his baby brother at this pivotal moment.

“We need a stretcher over here!” The nurse hollered out before turning back to Sam, “OK sir, can you tell me when your wife’s water broke?”

Sam blanched for an instant. He couldn’t focus on anything but your unconscious form. “Um… it was before we left, about, I don’t know-“

“About an hour ago,” Dean supplied as he strode up to his brother’s side. “And we noticed the bleeding around fifteen minutes ago.”

Sam nodded appreciatively, his eyes still wide and frenetic. A stretcher suddenly appeared next to him and he reluctantly laid you down on it, opting to grasp for your hand instead. Dean was busy informing the doctors of your situation, but Sam couldn’t hear any of it.

“OK, let’s go!” a male doctor called out. “Get an OR prepped just in case. Tell them we’ve got a female in active labor with twins, possible placental abruption.”

Trotting alongside your stretcher as the hospital staff pushed you down the hall, one of Sam’s large hands still held on firmly to yours while the other wiped the hair away from your face. “Baby, if you can hear me, please just stay strong, OK? Everything’s gonna be alright. I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

As if you had heard his prayers, your eyelids began to flutter open. Sam nearly collapsed with relief, but he willed his legs to continue pumping, his eyes never leaving your face. He waited as you tilted your head this way and that, trying to make out your new surroundings.

“S-Sam?” Your voice was still feeble, but Sam had never been happier to hear it.

“Oh, thank god! I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he choked out in a sob.

“Where are we?”

“The hospital. Dean got you here in record time. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He repeated. “Just stay awake for me, OK?”

You tried to nod, but you weren’t sure how well it translated since every muscle in your body felt utterly exhausted.

“She’s regained consciousness. Let’s bring her to the delivery room first.”

As soon as you were wheeled in, an oxygen mask materialized before you, and despite your weak protests was promptly attached to your face. Regardless, you barely got the chance to take a few deep breaths before the contractions began to pick up exactly where they left off.

Yet it seemed like an eternity until the urge to push finally and abruptly overcame your body. You gasped, mouth forming a wide “O”, as you felt your first baby descend swiftly through the birth canal.

“What? What is it?!” Sam inquired hurriedly in trepidation.

“She needs to push,” the doctor answered for you. “Alright Y/N, on your next contraction, I want you to put your chin to your chest and bear down for me as hard as you can, you understand?”

Your answer was a resounding growl as you squeezed your eyes shut and gave your first push of many.

Sam never left your side and he never let go of your hand. He could only marvel at your strength as he tried desperately to provide what little physical and moral support he could. He wanted so badly to kiss you but with the mask in the way, his lips could only settle upon your sweaty forehead.

It took hours, but eventually…

“The baby’s out; it’s a boy! Time of birth - 2:37am.”

Sam was granted only a second to rejoice, his iridescent eyes lighting up at the sight and sound of his firstborn entering the cruel world.

“The mother’s hemorrhaging!” a nurse bellowed and Sam instantly paled, his gaze returning at once to your fatigued figure on the bed.

“We need to get the second baby out now! Call the OR, tell them we’ve got an emergency C-section coming in,” the lead doctor commanded in reply.

Sam watched helplessly as the blood drained from your face and your eyes refused to open yet again. “No, no, no! Please, baby. Please don’t do this to me. Stay with me, Y/N. I need you. Our babies need you!” Sam pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Damn it!” he cursed as the tears began to fall. Sam rose to his full height, his hands balled into tight fists as he pumped them erratically through the air. His imposing form might have frightened some of the nurses if they hadn’t seen the look of horror and anguish that engulfed his features, or witnessed his unequivocal love and devotion to you throughout the labor and delivery process.

Sam forced himself to heave deep breathes as he observed the medical professionals bustling about your room, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Where’s my baby? At least tell me my baby is alright?” he demanded in a shaky tone to no one in particular.

“Your son is just fine, sir. They’ve taken him to the NICU to get checked up but from what I saw, he’s a big and healthy baby boy,” one of the nurses provided with a cautious smile.

“My son…” Sam breathed, looking back down at your unconscious form, “Our son… Did you hear that, baby? Oh, god!” He wanted to take you in his arms, to simply will the life back into you, but the doctors were swarming around your bed, poking and prodding at your still swollen abdomen.

“Sir, you need to back up and let the doctors do their job.”

Sam’s chest puffed up on instinct and he was about to retort when Dean, who had been watching in vain from afar, was suddenly there to hold him back. His hands gripped Sam’s biceps from behind and he pulled his brother back with all the strength he could muster, but Sam would not budge. Dean had no choice but to come around to Sam’s front and push against his inflated chest with both hands, while eyeing his little brother with a pointed look that told him to listen to the nurse, that there was nothing he could do right now to help you.

When Sam finally relented, he could no longer hold back his sobs. He had never felt so helpless, so useless. Dean managed to pull him into a waiting room before he broke down completely.

“Hey, you listen to me.” Dean’s ‘big brother voice’ was in full effect, “Your girl in there, is one hell of a fighter. We have seen her go through hell and back both with and for you, literally. And I know you’d do the same for her, Sammy. And so does she, alright? So I know for a fact that Y/N is gonna be fighting with everything she’s got to get back to you and your family. Just like she always does. I mean, hey, she’s practically a Winchester, right? And since when have we ever let death get the best of us?”

At his brother’s last point, Sam’s heart jolted in his chest. You really were practically a Winchester. And he’d loved the way it felt being able to call you his wife and being referred to as your husband in return.

The next hour passed at an agonizingly slow rate, with Sam and Dean fidgeting silently in their seats through most it.

“Mr. Windsor?” When the doctor got no response, he tried again, “Family of Y/N Windsor?”

At the sound of your name, Sam vaulted off his chair, realizing he’d nearly missed his calling. Hurtling towards the doctor, Sam almost miscalculated his braking distance. “I’m here! That’s me, I’m her husband!” he burst forth breathlessly.

“Well I’m here to tell you Y/N’s out of surgery. The C-section was a success, and she should be waking up shortly. Oh and congratulations, you have another son.”

“Wait, so she and the babies are OK?” Dean checked from his spot behind Sam.

“Yes, we have no reason to believe she or either of the babies are in any further danger.”

Sam released the largest breath known to mankind. “C-can I see her? Can I see them?”

The doctor sent him a smile and a nod before giving them your room number. Sam was off like a bullet with Dean hot behind his heels, but when they reached your door, the older Winchester elected to stay back a little, wanting to permit your new family some time alone first.

You were just coming to your senses when Sam walked in. Adjusting your bed to a seated position, you looked up to find him staring at you, “Sam?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled before falling to his knees at your bedside. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.” Sam buried his head in your thigh, so you ran your fingers lovingly through his soft chestnut locks, allowing him a moment of reprieve.

When he raised his head to face you, his eyes were red and cheeks stained with tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean? Are the babies OK?”

“Yeah, they’re fine but the doctor said your complications were most likely the result of previous injuries and the fact that you were carrying big babies.”

You huffed a gentle sigh, “Baby, we both knew there was a higher risk associated with a multiple pregnancy. And of course my hunter background wouldn’t be any help. But how is any of that your fault?”

Sam didn’t respond with words; he merely fixed his watery puppy dog gaze upon yours, which just about caused you to break down with him, but you had promised yourself to always denounce this type of behavior. “Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? I never wanna hear you apologizing for things you can’t control. And I especially never wanna hear you apologize for any part of who you are, because I am so completely and irrevocably in love with that person that it hurts me just the same, do you understand?”

Sam nodded and you wiped the tears from his cheekbones, beckoning him to stand back up, though his head was still pointed down.

“Hey, I’m OK, alright?” You grabbed his hand, waiting until his shoulders visibly relaxed before adding impatiently, “Now when do I get to see my babies? Please tell me I can see them now.”

“Y-yeah, lemme go bring them over.”

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling a surge of energy flow back into your body at the thought of finally meeting your twins. So when Sam returned, wheeling two hospital cribs through the door, you were virtually bouncing with anticipation.

“You were right, baby.” Sam shot you a handsome little smirk.

“What?”

“We’ve got two boys.”

“Really?” You gasped, the emotions finally catching up with you after all the hardships you’d faced in the past twenty-four hours.

“What? No ‘I told you so’?” Sam teased lightly.

But you were much too in awe for that. “No, just… gimme,” you pouted, holding your arms out expectantly.

“You sure?”

“Sam, if you don’t hand me at least one of my babies right now, I swear to Chuck-“

“Alright, alright, no need to bring God into this,” Sam chuckled, sliding your firstborn carefully into your eager and waiting arms.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect.”

“Yeah? So is this little guy,” Sam had picked up the other infant and was beaming fondly down at him.

You spared a glance at them and giggled at the sight.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… he looks so small in your arms.”

Sam’s entire being exuded radiance, “So what are we gonna name them?”

It wasn’t long before you called for Dean and he strolled somewhat nervously into your room.

Cradling his eldest son in his arms, Sam sent his brother a warm and proud smile, “Dean, we’d like you to meet Robert John and…”

“Lucas Dean Winchester,” you finished, gesturing to the baby boy in your arms. “Well, Luke and Robbie for short.”

Dean’s emerald eyes grew wide and a little wet. He looked back and forth between you and Sam as if to confirm what he had heard was true.

You smiled at him, nodding. “You’ve always meant the world to Sam, and if I’m honest, you mean the world to me too. And I am beyond certain that these boys will grow to love you no less than either of us. Besides, none of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you knew he needed to process his emotions.

“That’s awesome,” he said, though you knew he meant ‘thank you’.

“You wanna hold them?” Sam asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean grinned back, then looked toward you.

You held back a laugh, “You wanna start with your namesake, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shot him a mini bitch face, “Sorry, I-I mean, heck yeah!”

Snorting, you carefully handed Dean the bundle of blankets in which Lucas Dean was wrapped.

“There’s just one more thing I wanna say,” Sam’s voice brought your attention back to him.

You gave him a curious look and he seemed to almost blush under your gaze, which only confused you further.

“Y/N, I never thought I’d get to have all this, but you’ve made me so unbelievably happy, and I know it shouldn’t matter, but there’s been something ruminating in the back of my mind ever since we got to the hospital- no, actually ever since we made those fake IDs.”

Now you were really lost, eyeing him perplexedly. You looked over to Dean for some help, but he seemed not in the least bit surprised. In fact, he appeared to be perfectly content, paying zero attention to you and his brother and cooing happily at baby Luke as he bounced him in his arms.

“Baby,” Sam continued, “I know you’ve never really wanted or cared about this, and I know we can never make it a hundred percent official, but- Y/N, will you marry me?”

It was a good thing you were no longer holding any babies, because Sam’s question took you completely off guard.

“W-what?” you stammered, staring at him with large eyes.

Sam chuckled and looked down at Robbie, “I think your mom heard me just fine, don’t you, buddy?”

Your mouth stayed open for some time as you tried to absorb it all.

“Any time now, Y/N. Any time,” Dean interrupted without glancing up from Luke.

“Y-yes!” You finally replied.

“Really?” Sam asked again.

“Yeah! Obviously! I mean, who else would I marry but my incredible, brilliant, tall, and gorgeous baby daddy?”

At this point, Sam had passed Dean his oldest son, helping him balance both babies in his arms, before rushing back over to you. He took your face in both hands and kissed you like it was the first and last time. You leaned up to reach him and run your fingers through his shimmering tresses but you refrained from taking the kiss too far, figuring you’d save Dean the torture given all he had just done for your family.

“Well, alright! Two Winchesters coming in, and five going out. Nice work, Sammy!”

You released Sam and sent Dean a bitch face of your own.

“But- I mean, none of this would have been possible without you, Y/N/N,” he quickly amended, “I mean, who could forget that you nearly died bringing these two to the world? What’s that, the third time you’ve cheated Death now? That alone is enough to make you an official Winchester in my books.”

“Well, technically we’re all Windsors in this hospital.”

A/N #2: thank you for reading! ...i’m thinking of turning this into a series of sorts, like a collection of stories about sam and reader’s lives after the twins (because i’ve got iDeAs brewing), would anyone be interested? ❤️ also, here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com:

tagging some peeps who seemed to enjoy part 1 :) @carryonmywaywardbucky @girl-next-door-writes​ @sams-sass​ @swiftlymoniquesblog @austin-winchester67 @idreamofhazel @hoboal87 

[multiverse-muse]

A Pretty Cage is Still a Cage

magic!reader x loki, not quite canon compliant, also on my ao3

“Have you enjoyed learning from the strange doctor?” You control your urge to grin wide as you turn to face Loki. You were taking a break in the compound’s library, which was barely ever occupied beyond yourself.

“It’s Doctor Strange.” You correct, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“That’s what I said.” Loki said.

“I’ve actually been training with Wanda, thank you very much. Stephen’s technique was a little too...intellectual for me. Theory learning and such.”

“No wonder you left his teaching, your magic is inane and hardly helped through books.” Loki paused. “Midgardian books, anyway. I’m sure even his Sanctum does not have half the amount of material as my own library.”

“I can’t tell if you’re bragging or still trying to be mean about Stephen.” Loki simply grinned, giving an elegant shrug. You roll your eyes. “Welcome back, Loki.”

“I’m not back for long. Thor wanted to check in on something quickly and then we’re headed back. I was hoping you’d return with us.” Loki explained. You simply blinked at him for a long moment before realizing your mouth was hanging open.

“Wait, wait, me? Going to Asgard?” With you?” You sputter.

“And my brother, but yes, you’ve gotten the gist of it. You need a good teacher if you are to master your magic.”

“Oh, no way. I would stick out like a sore thumb in Asgard. A very ugly, very sore thumb.” You argue. A frown crosses Loki’s face.

“You should know, you’re quite a pretty thumb. Far and away prettier than most. Asgard can hardly prepare itself for you.” Loki retorts. You frown and squint your eyes at him.

“I still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

*

You had not been practicing your magic very long. Nor had you known Loki, Thor, and the other Avengers very long. You had met them only a few months ago, when a Hydra unit hit your hometown, looking for mutants to use in an army. All they found was you: you who had only had your abilities awoken during the scuffle with Hydra. After they were defeated, the Avengers offered you a place at their compound. They knew plenty of magic users who could help teach you or, if you had preferred, they had connections to Professor Xavier. You had declined that offer, preferring to learn from Loki.

Loki himself had not been with the Avengers long. After the death of his mother and his own revelation of sorts, he’d given up on conquest. He still longed for the throne, but now he planned to simply outlive Thor. Which, really, he thought wouldn’t take long, considering how many foolish things Thor gets himself involved with. His presence in the Avengers Compound made him an easy teacher to access.

This set up nicely for the two of you to become quick friends. Both on the outside of the circle, looking in and feeling out of place. Loki was better at hiding it, of course, and to an extent he did prefer to stay out of the spotlight. At least, when it came to the Avengers.

Now, you stood between the two brothers at the Bifrost, having just passed through the nauseating space tunnel thing that Thor uses to travel. Asgard loomed before you, beautiful and decadent and otherworldly. Which it was, you supposed. That and incredibly overwhelming.

“Welcome to our home.” Thor said.

“I’ve already alerted King Odin of your arrival.” You turn and spot a man who could only be Heimdall. You can’t help but appreciate his form even as the thought of Odin terrified you.

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Thor introduced the two of you officially before the two of you and Loki approached the main palace.

“What if your father doesn’t like me?” It bursts from your mouth before you can stop it and you reach out and grab onto Loki’s arm. “What if he sends me back to Earth?”

“Then he’ll only prove his own foolishness.” Loki waved away your concern easily. He took the hand on his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow, so he was now leading you as you walked. The three of you are met at the door by a guard, joined by others as you walked, and by the time you reached the throne hall, you all had an entourage of nearly a dozen men. Someone on the other side of the door announced your presence and the door began to open. You hastily try to pull your hand from Loki’s arm, though he held tight and sent you a frowning glance.You tugged again but couldn’t budge from him.

“My sons!” Odin greeted from the throne. He was just as intimidating as you’d expected and if not for your hand still being in Loki’s grasp, you’re sure you would’ve either fainted or ran back out the door. “And our honored guest! Welcome to Asgard, milady.”

“Oh, ah, th-thank you!” You squeak out, then whisper to Thor, “Do I bow? Curtsy?”

“You may do either, if you feel the need but I do not require anyone to do so, particularly guests who may be unaware of traditions.” Odin eased your worry. He and the boys spoke for a moment before his attention turned back to you. “Now, as I understand, you are learning magic from my son. I’m curious to see where your abilities lie now, before his teaching.”

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” You glance at Loki and Thor with wide eyes before facing King Odin fully. You take a deep breath and raise your hands. One thing you’d learned while training with Dr. Strange and Wanda was that your powers came from feelings, not thoughts. As such, your magic tended to be temperamental. This time however, you channeled your nervousness into a solid energy and opened your eyes to see orbs of pale yellow light floating through the chamber.

“It’s not much.” You admit, lowering your hands. The orbs hang for a few moments before they start to fade, one by one. One falls to the floor and changes shape into that of a cat, which nudges Loki’s leg before disappearing. “But I’m learning.”

“I expect my son will do a good job teaching you, I am curious to see your abilities develop. Now, I allow you all to retire and clean up, for there will be a festive dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival home.” You’re all escorted from the throne room and then led to your chambers. The boys obviously knew where their own rooms were but neither seemed sure where you were meant to go. That question was answered by one of the guards stationed outside Thor’s room.

“One of the spare rooms connecting to Prince Loki’s chambers has been fitted out as a guest’s chambers. King Odin assumed she’d want to be near those she knew.” You sighed with relief even as your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected to be staying so close to Loki.

“Good, good! I will meet the two of you before dinner.” Thor grinned at you and Loki before entering his room. The guards continued to escort you and Loki down the hallway.

“Where’s your room?” You ask. You feel Loki’s arm tense and realize you’ve left your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Just another hallway or so down. Impatient to get into my private chambers?” Loki smirked and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I believe I remember someone promising me that the baths here are fantastic. I didn’t know if I should take one before dinner.” You said. You’re led down a set of stairs to another floor. Loki takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing on down the stairs. The lights seemed to be more abrasive down here, the air cooler. The guards finally stop at a door and gesture you towards it.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home.” Loki finally lets your hand drop free and he strolls into the room. After a moment of silence and looking at the guards, you finally follow him through. The first room is simply an antechamber and had three doors leading out. One was still closed, one leading further into a living room style chamber and the last seemed to be a bathroom of sorts. There were no windows in any of the rooms that you could see. The colors were all muted and it felt even chillier in here than in the hallway. You followed Loki into the living room.

“Why is it so…” You trailed off, not wanting to offend Loki if this was how he had meant his rooms to be.

“Bland? Oppressive?” Loki offered.

“I was going to say cold.” You mumble.

“Yes, that too.” Loki lets out a long sigh. “They don’t trust me in the royal corridor. They want me somewhere easy to watch, so they can keep an eye on me. They trust me only enough to go out with Thor. When he is gone, this is where I remain.”

“That’s...sad.” You said. Loki turned to you with a mild glare.

“I do not want your pity.” He snapped. You shake your head.

“No pity, Loki, it’s just sympathy.” You look around the room. Loki had obviously lived here a while: books littered every shelf and flat surface, a few pieces of clothing were tossed over furniture. But it still felt stifling, like there wasn’t quite room to breath. “They’re still keeping you locked up.”

“At least I’m no longer in the prison even further below, locked in a cage among those mongrels.” Loki all but snarls.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, Loki, a cage is still a cage.” You regard the room again while Loki regards you. He walks over to you, looking contemplative.

“You’re the only one who sees this the way I do. My father tells me he loves me, yet there’s chains on the door at night.” Loki muses.

“Really?” You ask in disbelief.

“No, of course not, simple chains would not stop me.” Loki gives you a sly grin and you just give him a deadpan stare. “But, thank you for the...sympathy. Now, go on to your room. Make sure you look decent. If you get bored, you know where to find me.”

*

Dinner was not as wild an affair as you’d feared it would be. Thor explained that feasts were more festive, but a simple welcome home ‘fancy dinner’ was not enough of a cause for the Asgardians to go crazy. Not since Thor and Loki now returned home regularly, anyway. You were quiet all through dinner, mostly due to nerves and the fear that you’d open your mouth and call Odin out for how he still locked Loki away like a bird.

Dinner and the next few days melted away quickly. During morning hours, Loki trained you to use your powers. Afternoons were spent exploring Asgard, meeting people, and warrior training. You didn’t participate in the warrior training. That was specifically for Loki and Thor, occasionally with Sif, the Warriors Three, and/or Brunnhilde. Mostly you read through these sessions, enjoying the outdoors but staying far removed from the scuffles.

“She’s not looking, you can stop trying to show off.” Brunnhilde said, clipping Loki on the shoulder as they were sparring.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked. Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and easily ducked the strike of his dagger. There was a reason Loki preferred magic to actual combat.

“You’ve been showing off, hoping she’s watching. We’re not dumb.” She glances over to Thor and Volstagg, who were tangled in some strange wrestling. “I’m not dumb.” She replied. She disarmed him easily and then knocked him onto his ass. Without thinking, he glanced at you, though you were too absorbed in the book you held and didn’t see him looking so foolish. Loki sighed in relief and then started when Brunnhilde snorted.

“You brothers and your Midgardians.” She strut off over to Sif and Loki had to help himself up out of the dirt.

*

“See, you’re not terrible at this.” Loki said.

“Thanks.” You reply sarcastically, concentrating on the pale yellow shield you’d managed to form around yourself. “That sounds an awful lot like you mean I’m not good at it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki grins. You roll your eyes and the magic shield drops. You lower your hands and throw yourself onto the nearby couch. It was easiest for you both to train in Loki’s chambers than to go to any other space where you’d have a handful of guards watching your and Loki’s everymove.

“Can I be done? For a little while?” You grumble. Magic was hard. Magic was tiring. And spending so much time with Loki was making you worry that your heart was going to give out.

“We’ve barely begun.” Loki replies, though he joins you on the couch.

“We can just chill for a while. You’ve been training me and then training with Thor, you must be exhausted.” You say. He simply hums in reply, waving his hand and making a book appear. You grin to yourself, before settling more comfortably into the couch. Every once in a while, Loki would read a passage of the book aloud to you, if he thought it funny or clever or interesting.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking awake slowly. You panicked a moment as someone touched you before realizing it was just someone playing with your hair. It took another moment to realize who it must have been. You were draped across Loki, your head in his lap while he kept reading, his free hand running through your hair. You close your eyes to savor the moment. Loki chuckles lowly to himself and you take a breath to steel yourself.

“What’s funny?” You mumble. Loki’s hand immediately disappears from your hair.

“Just the author being an incompetent fool.” Loki answers. You finally sit up, rubbing your eyes, while Loki gives you a mildly amused look. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You whine, blushing. Loki sets his book to the side and shifts slightly to face you more.

“Someone came by while you slept. My father is preparing a feast to celebrate the beginning of Jul. As an honored guest of his sons, you are required to go.” Loki’s face formed into an unhappy frown. “As a son, I am required to go.”

“So...like the welcoming feast but worse?” You ask. Loki rises, returning his book to the shelf but answering you as he goes.

“The dinner you attended on your first night was not even a true feast. This feast will last for hours, go late into the evening, requires dancing, and almost certainly will end with my brother being so drunk he does something ridiculous.”

“Oh. Wait! What am I supposed to wear?” You ask. When you’d arrived, you’d been brought a variety of garments to choose from. You preferred pants and a top over the dresses that were offered to you, though they were pretty. Simple Asgardian clothing was still fancier than anything you’d ever owned back on Earth. Even still, everything you had at your disposal was not suited for a fancy gathering.

“Clothing, probably.” Loki’s grin turned mischievous. “Or nothing, if you’d prefer, though I would suggest keeping to the chambers if you decide to run around nude.” You throw the pillow from the couch at him, which he easily waves away with a chuckle.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You ass.” You scoff at him, trying to hide the blush rising. You rise from the couch, checking the clock on the wall. You’d barely learned to read the Asgardian script but you could tell it was time for lunch. Your attention was dragged back to Loki as he approached you.

“Is that such a problem, if I would enjoy it?” Loki asked lowly, reaching up and tucking some hair back behind your ear. You really were blushing now, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.

“Loki-” You were cut off as a bang! came from the door.

“Brother! Y/N!” Thor called from beyond the door. You rushed away from Loki, feeling suddenly very out of breath and very disappointed. You opened the door to reveal a grinning Thor. “Volstagg and his family has invited us for lunch, if you liked to join.”

“That sounds nice.” You say without thinking. You both look towards Loki who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll stay and eat here, I’d rather not deal with the miniature Volstaggs running around.” Loki comments. You deflated a bit but Thor looked even more disappointed. So you held your tongue, still agreeing to go with Thor, and waved goodbye to Loki, promising to see him later.

***

The next few weeks were spent as the last few, except now most attendees of Odin were running around in a buzz, setting up for the Jul feast. You and Loki had both seemingly decided not to acknowledge whatever it was that was happening before Thor had interrupted you both. Loki had assured you that he’d take care of your attire for the feast, so you had nothing to worry about other than learning Asgardian dances so as not to make a fool of yourself.

More often than not, it was Sif or Brunnhilde who took the time to teach you. Loki and Thor were getting pulled into meetings and off-world visitations with Odin, leaving you to the girls and Warriors Three. You didn’t mind it so much. Brunnhilde was certainly becoming a fast friend and who couldn’t like Volstagg? The others were still in the acquaintance category, though that was changing too.

The morning of the feast, you woke early (though there were no windows with which to really tell the time). You were a ball of nerves and as the day went on, they simply got worse. Loki was nowhere to be found in his chambers or the common areas you two shared. The guard outside the door (only one, since Loki wasn’t present) assures you he’d return to fetch you for the feast and that lunch would be brought to you. So you spent the majority of the afternoon into evening by yourself, fretting and pacing around, while occasionally trying to concentrate on practicing your magic.

You’re startled in the early evening when the main door flies open, Loki sweeping into a room with an armful of boxes.

“I’ve got your dress here, we’d better dress quickly, as my father is an impatient man and it will do us better to arrive fashionably on time rather than late.” Loki said this as he handed you a box. “I’d much rather wait and make a dramatic entrance, but alas.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, taking the box from him. It was quite heavy.

“I’ll have your shoes set out here whenever you’re done.” Loki’s voice followed you to your room. You shut the door softly behind you and then dumped the box on the bed, carefully pulling out the dress from within. The green fabric was a heavy velvet type, but soft and you hoped it wouldn’t be too warm. It wasn’t until you’d stripped and pulled the dress on that you’d realized the type of neckline it had.

“Loki!” You screech, all but stomping out of your room and into the common room. You hands held up the very low neckline and covered the expanse of chest and cleavage it left exposed. Loki’s door was slightly ajar and he poked his head around to look at you. A slow grin worked its way across his face. “I can’t wear this!”

“Obviously you can. Give me a moment to fully dress.” Loki disappeared back behind his door, though you could swear you heard him chuckling slightly.

You went back to the mirror in your room and examined yourself in the dress. The heavy velvet helped the dress lay in a flattering way across your body, down to the floor, though the long slit in the front made you nervous to walk. The bardot neckline would’ve been nice had it been an inch or so higher, but currently it showed off a little too much of your chest for you to be comfortable, especially considering the v-shaped notch in the front that showed off a hint of the skin between your breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were just a thick band of the same velvet and surprisingly didn’t restrict your movement too much.

“Alright, what was the issue?” Loki called. You slowly trudged to the shared room, moving your arms back up to cover your chest. And you stilled in the doorway. Loki has always cleaned up nicely but you’d never seen him go all out in a suit and tie. It was a very modern, very Earth style outfit, all black except for the silky green shirt beneath the jacket (a green that nearly matched the color of your dress, you noted absentmindedly). He had smoothed his hair back so it lay across his shoulders but out of his face. As you looked him up and down, he did the same to you. “You’ve not even put on the shoes.”

Loki picked up a box near the couch before approaching you, opening it to reveal dainty and strappy golden heels. When you didn’t make a move to take them, he rolled his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re meant to put them on.” Loki said.

“I-I can’t bend over to put them on.” You said distractedly, eyes still lingering on his lean form. He huffed but tugged on your arm, leading you to the couch.

“Sit.” You did. You kept your arms covering your chest but almost dropped them in surprise when Loki knelt, slipping the shoes on your feet quickly and with ease. “There, now, up.” You stood shakily, though the heels proved to be sturdier than they appeared.

“I can’t wear this to the feast, Loki.” You repeated. Loki shook his head.

“And why not? I chose this style especially for you, picked out the fabric and everything.” Loki...was he pouting? “There’s no time for a new one to be made.”

“I didn’t need a special made dress. I would’ve stood out badly enough in a regular Asgardian dress. This is....too much. For me.” You almost reach out to him but at the last minute remember what your hands are covering. The small movement catches Loki’s gaze and he frowns again, nearly unnoticeable but there. He reaches out slowly, taking both of your wrists in his hands.

His eyes seek yours, anticipating you to stop him, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do so. If there’s anyone is this realm you trust, it’s Loki.He pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them down between the two of you. His eyes sweep across your figure and you can’t stop the heat rising to your face, your ears.

“Just a moment, dear.” Loki disappears into his room for just a moment before emerging again, something cradled in his hands. He pockets it before pulling your hair up and away from your neck , though if he makes it stay with pins or magic, you aren’t sure. Then from his pocket he pulls out the necklace he’d fetched from his room. It’s all dainty gold chain, except for the large emerald colored jewel hanging in the center.

You shiver as his hands go around your neck, fastening the necklace. It sits heavily along your chest, the many loops of chains almost tickling your skin. The stone sits nicely just above the middle of your breasts, a large shimmering stone that complemented the dress nicely. When Loki didn’t remove his hands, you finally gain the courage to look up at him. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your chest before meeting your gaze. He almost looks tinged rosy himself but he offers a soft smile and steps back.

“There. Perfection in mortal form.” Loki smiles at his work and, yes, it is a beautiful outfit, but you are still distracted with the amount of skin you’re exposing. “Any more unnecessary complaints?”

“No.” You mumble. Loki was not going to let you change, you’d finally accepted that. “Loki, are you really wearing an Earth suit? To an Asgardian feast?”

“I thought it looked quite fetching, and judging by your staring earlier, I would assume you did as well.” You shot him an unamused and slightly blushing look. “Besides, I am one of the royals Princes, and Gods know Thor never looks the part.” You snort at that, shaking your head.

“They’re gonna stare, so much.” You whine. Loki smiles.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

***

“You look ready to die.” Brunnhilde says as she sidles up to you. You nearly jump out of your skin, your drink sloshing almost out of the glass.

“No one is talking to me, no one has asked me to dance.” You hiss at her. You’d watched as the evening wore on and many people had approached the other women for dances. Loki and Thor had been swept into the political meet-and-greets so you’d been sitting mostly alone, save for the few times Brunnhilde or Sif had stopped to check on you. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, you can blame Loki for no one trying to dance with you, you know.” Brunnhilde said. At your confused look she sighed and pointed at your necklace. It glimmered even in the dim room and seemed to swirl with magic. “That necklace is like a land claim. He’s using it to warn other men to stay away from you.”

“What?” You reach up to handle the stone, which was warm to the touch. You frown at the idea of Loki’s possessiveness and try to unhook it from your neck. Your fingers scramble against the back of the necklace but find no purchase: there was no way to remove it.

“To be fair,” Brunnhilde continues, sipping her drink, “You do look incredible in that dress. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep you to himself.” You clumsily excuse yourself from her company, heading straight for an empty balcony. You needed the fresh air, to breath. You stood out there for who knows how long before you sensed a presence behind you.

“Are you out here hiding?” Loki asked, joining you at the railing. You turn to him with a furrowed brow.

“No, not that it matters. No one in there would speak with me anyway.” You say and a confused look crosses his face, before you jab your finger towards the necklace around your neck. The confused look fades into almost a sheepish look but that too quickly disappears.

“I suppose Brunnhilde told you what it implies? I saw the two of you speaking.”

“Yes, she did tell me. Unlike you.” You cross your arms. The movement causes Loki to glance down and his eyes linger on your gilded chest. Realizing this, you quickly uncross your arms. You poke him in the chest. “Quit, just- Stop staring!”

“My apologies, it can be hard to look away from an image so tantalizing.” Loki curls his hand around the one you’d used to poke him. He didn’t let it go, simply held on to it, connecting the two of you.

“Stop teasing me.” You huff.

“How am I teasing? I am stating the truth.” He says it simply.

“Loki,” You start but nearly choke on the feeling of your heart in your throat. Why is it that Loki, that liking Loki, can make you so nervous?

“Yes, ástin mín?” You pause, taken aback by the use of the Asgardian language.

“What? What does that mean?” You ask. Loki sighs, not out of impatience or annoyance but as if to steel himself.

“I recognize I have perhaps been unfair to you, Y/N.” Loki says, his thumb lightly rubbing the one of yours that he is holding. “I had you wear the necklace for myself, not for you. I reasoned that it would protect you from untoward advances, thought it didn’t cross my mind you might would have wanted the attention.”

“I’m-what? No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with other people in there.” You shake your head. “I just felt like no one wanted to have anything to do with me because I’m an outsider.”

“I’m sorry that I am the cause of you feeling such a way. Might you forgive me?” Loki asks. You smile but smile meekly up at him.

“Only if you tell me what you called me a minute ago.” You say. Loki stills.

“Ask of me anything else and I’ll oblige.” Loki says. He keeps his eyes down, away from you. He tries to pull his hand from you but you hold on tighter to him.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Loki.” You say, sounding confident despite your nerves. “You could call me an old hag and I’d still...You’d still be my favorite person.”

“You would still?” Curse Loki and his unwavering attentiveness. You shake your head, unable to say the words. Loki’s expression lifts, a slight smile curling across his features. He takes one step towards you, then another, until there is barely any space between you.

“If you would stop me,” Loki says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer to you, “Do so now, before I cannot stop myself.” You say nothing.

The kiss is soft at first, a tentative touch. Loki was waiting for you to stop him, you realize. To refuse him. You reach up with your free hand and grasp his lapel lightly. It’s a light touch but it's enough for him to feel and understand. He drops the hand of yours he had been holding so he could bring both of his hands to your face, cradling your face between his hands as he pulls away just slightly from you.

The look on Loki’s face is an extraordinary one. All of his armor had fallen away and you were finally seeing him as he wanted to be. He was unguarded and looking at you as if you were the only source of warmth he’d found in decades.

“Ástin mín. It means my love.” You can’t help but stare at Loki at those words, heart pounding in your chest. Even as your heart stutters, you tug on his jacket, tugging him back to you.

This kiss is more heated, less slow. Loki’s hands still curl around your face, sliding into your hair and pulling you ever closer. You loop your arms around his neck, thankful for the heels that boost your height just enough to do so without stretching terribly far. The kiss is needy, as Loki pulls you impossibly close to him.

“Excuse me, sire.” The two of you part at the words, Loki barely tilting his head to look towards the guard.

“What is it?” Loki asks, bitingly. He hands dropped from your face to your hips, still holding you near him.

“Your father says that your presence is being missed.” The guard speaks uneasily, obviously unnerved by Loki’s glare.

“My father can wait. Now, leave us.” Loki orders. The guard does not hesitate to scramble back inside. Loki looks back to you, with an amused look on his face. “Do you even see what you’re doing?”

“What?” You look around and see magic orbs of yellow floating around the two of you, swirls of the same magic wrapping around the two of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Feeling-based magic is a bit of a giveaway, is it not?” Loki teases softly and you bury your head into his chest, groaning in embarrassment. He laughs lightly, a laugh you’ve so rarely heard. “I cannot complain, I suppose. It is gratifying to see the reaction I cause within you.”

“You are going to be so insufferable.” You mumble into his chest. You sense the smile on his face and end up smiling yourself when you feel him plant a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I suppose we’d better head back to the feast, before my father sends Thor after us. That’s not a conversation I feel particularly up to. And if we’re lucky, we’ll sneak away early.”

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

.

.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)