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theetherealbloom · 2 years ago

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WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 1 | 14th Doctor

Chapter One: After All Of The Time, And Give An Actual Try

Summary: An enigmatic old face makes a reappearance, heralding unforeseen events. A mysterious spaceship plummets to Earth, bringing chaos and prompting the Doctor's intervention. Amidst the unfolding narrative, a cute and endearing creature seeks assistance, weaving together elements of mystery, adventure, and companionship.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance

Word Count: 12.2k

A/N: Surprise! I love Doctor Who too. I’m a huge nerd, I know tehe. I hope you enjoy this mini-series I have planned for the 14th Doctor! As we know, he is played by the beloved David Tennant who is one of my favorite Doctors ever.

Song: Where do we go now? By Gracie Abrams

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS, NORTH LONDON – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

A UNIT team was promptly dispatched as the spaceship breached Earth's atmosphere, making its way North of London. Both serving as scientific advisors, you and Shirley were on-site where the ship had landed.

While some military personnel were busy extinguishing the flames from the spacecraft and securing the perimeter, preventing you from delving further into the investigation, you found yourself engrossed in studying the ship's scans displayed on the monitor in your hands, attempting to unravel the mystery.

"Miss them, do you?" A voice called out from behind.

You averted your gaze from the tablet, turning to find Shirley maneuvering her wheelchair next to you. Curious, you asked, "What? Who?"

The redhead sported a cheeky smile. "The Doctor, of course."

It was widely known that you had journeyed alongside the Doctor and his myriad companions. Images of their faces flashed in your mind as you reminisced about those exciting adventures. Rose, Donna, the Ponds, Clara... you longed for them. There was a noticeable absence of the Doctor that left a gaping black hole in your chest.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself, "Can't let the Doctor catch a glimpse of me again; the entire universe might just fold in on itself once more. Already me being here is a problem since there’s a possibility he could pop out at any moment. I’m only on duty since I owe Kate a favor."

Shirley hums and responds, "I've read the files, you know. You two were quite the team. Everything that had happened… was in the wrong place at the right time. Still, it could happen, the two of you… together."

You raise your eyebrows at her and offer a small smile while shaking your head, scoffing, "The Doctor was unaware before, and I won't be the catalyst for another cosmic meltdown due to my selfish reasons. Besides... the Doctor doesn’t know I’m still alive and UNIT is already on my arse for even existing on this timeline.”

The redhead emits a sympathetic murmur and pats the side of your thigh, "Wasn't your fault, love. A colossal tear in time and space that dragged you in here... sounds like fate, or destiny even. If anything, maybe it was supposed to happen... like you and—"

The tablet beeps, abruptly halting Shirley's train of thought. You glance at the monitor, furrowing your brow, then hand over the device to her, saying, "You need to see this. I believe there's more to this than we initially thought."

“Now I think we’re making a fundamental mistake. ‘Cause maybe that spaceship was a collision course to start with, but look.” Shirley says while the UNIT soldier looks at the tablet, “At the last minute, it pulls up, then settles. What I’m sayin’ is, that ship didn’t crash. It parked.”

As Shirley presents her observations to the UNIT soldier, you can't help but notice the intensity in her gaze, the lines of concentration etched across her forehead. The soldier queries, "No signs of life?" You step forward, interjecting, "Not yet. But we don't know what kind of life we're looking for."

Suddenly, an unexplained shiver races up your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. A palpable sense of familiarity and the eerie feeling of being observed by someone you know too well. Your expression shifts into a frown, and Shirley catches on, concern knitting her brows. "What? What's wrong?" she asks.

You open your mouth but hesitate, exchanging glances with Shirley and the UNIT soldier. Shirley, sensing the urgency, instructs the soldier to step aside. Both of you retreat to a secluded corner, where she probes, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost, dear."

You exhale shakily, "I... I think he's here. He's back."

Shirley blinks, seeking clarification, "You mean..."

"The Doctor. The Doctor, he’s here."

"Shirley, I need to leave, immediately," you declare, attempting to stride away with urgency.

"Wait, hang on a second," Shirley interjects, gripping your wrist and compelling you to halt. "He's already seen you, yeah? Looks like nothing bad has happened and—"

"Nothing bad has happened yet, Shirley. The stars could go out; millions of galactic species could die if we so much as breathe in each other's direction. I can't risk it. I won't."

Tears well up, and Shirley guides you to a stop near one of the staircases, settling herself in her wheelchair. As you take a seat, you rub both hands over your face, wiping away the tears. "I should have died that day."

Shirley remains silent, allowing you to continue as you shakily sob, "I should have died. But I didn't, and I'm still here."

"I lied to him, Shirley. I lied. He... he might never forgive me for it," you confess brokenly. Shirley shrugs, offering, "You won't know unless you talk. And it seems to me that whatever was keepin’ you apart before… is tellin’ you two maybe now is the right place at the right time."

Deep in contemplation of your choices, someone suddenly seizes your wrist, muffling your voice as they pull you close, your body pressed against a comforting warmth.

"Hey, it's me. It's the Doctor," he reassures, and you instinctively push away, allowing some distance between you two. Both of you stand there panting, but he breaks the silence first, shouting, "I thought you were dead!"

Throwing the words back at him, you retort, "I was supposed to be dead!"

"Why aren't you dead?" he demands, and frustration laces your high-pitched response, "Are you bloody serious in asking me that?”

“No. Yes! Argh, I don't know!"

Shaking your head and taking a step back, you declare, "I need to leave."

The Doctor firmly grabs your wrist, halting your escape. "No. Not again."

With determination, you wrench your wrist from his strong hold, shouting, "The universe could collapse! Again! We weren't ever supposed to meet. It was a mistake."

Wide-eyed, the Doctor gazes at you and replies in a breathy tone, "Is that really what you think?"

Paused, unable to respond, you hear his voice in your head, a telepathic whisper so familiar. "You and I both know, that it wasn't a mistake."

Glaring at him, you muster as much resistance as possible, but those big dark brown eyes make it challenging. "That's not fair. Get out of my head," you retort with furrowed brows.

The Doctor whispers your name, barely audible, causing you to flinch and look away. Instead of acknowledging his presence, you pivot to a question, "You regenerated… But why this face? Why are you back?"

"Why do you ask? You don't like this one?" he retorts.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes, "With you, there's always a reason for everything."

The Doctor admits, "Must be why the TARDIS brought me to you and Donna."

You regard him with a concerned gaze and tone, "What? You saw Donna, did she recognize or remember you?"

"The fail-safe worked; she just commented about my clothes. She has a daughter named Rose," the Doctor hums, kicking a small piece of gravel on the floor. You nod, "Yeah, I keep tabs on 'em. Making sure they're alright. Even though Donna gave all that money away to charity."

"Do you know why she did it?" The Doctor asks.

"I don't. But I have a couple of guesses," you reply with a close-lipped smile and a shrug. The Doctor brings his gaze to you, and you can already feel the question before he says it.

"I thought you were dead, for fifteen years."

You scoff, "Oh, that's nothing for you, Time Lord and all."

The Doctor throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh, don't do that."

"Do what?" you demand.

"Pretend that it was nothing for me! You were everything to me," the Doctor says, taking another step closer, and you take a step back this time. You look at him with narrowed eyes, and in a low tone, you say, "You and I both know that's not true."

"What happened? Where did you go?"

"You and I both know what happened after Arcadia. I was ready to die. I thought I had served my purpose, what I was made for. I got shot midway through the regeneration process, and I felt it. I felt myself slipping away... I could only see the two suns, and then when I closed my eyes, there was this surge of energy... I couldn't explain it back then, and I can't now. But it was like someone had given me their regeneration energy... but when I looked around, no one was there, and I was no longer on Gallifrey."

The Doctor finishes the sentence for you, "You were brought to Earth."

You nod, "I still have no idea who did it. But now, I can't leave. And all those years, my memories were locked away in that old pocket watch until I met you... and then the stars started to go out once more, and I knew I had no choice… I couldn't stay with you."

"All those years... you were alone, just like me," the Doctor says, and you look away before sitting atop one of the crates by the pillar, sighing, "I need to leave again... planets could disappear and galaxies could collapse at any second, and we'd be back where we started."

The Doctor remains silent as you close your eyes, resting your head on one of the stacked crates behind you. You yearn for him. Every atom in your being longs for his presence, yet every angle you examine seems to present an unsolvable puzzle. Thus, you convince yourself that distancing is the best course for everyone involved. How does one repay a sacrifice of such magnitude?

Then, you detect his approaching footsteps, and he settles comfortably beside you, shoulders brushing as he leans in. "Or... we could finally figure out a way to solve the paradox."

Opening your eyes, you shoot him a pointed look. "Doctor, we're in the middle of yet another crisis. A spaceship just landed, and we have no bloody clue who the hell we're dealing with right now. And you want to solve the impossible with our situation?"

"Who says I can't multitask?" he retorts, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. You lightly smack him on the arm, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. Memories of the carefree early days flash through your mind, recalling lingering gazes and soft touches exchanged. Licking your lips nervously, you release a heavy breath, "One problem at a time. We have another alien on the loose."

The Doctor takes that as a win, a calculated risk, with the universe as a potential consequence. He's never demanded anything, and for the first time, he yearns for something for himself. He envisions it — hope — the prospect of finally rewriting the ending you both desperately desire.

The sonic clicks and buzzes as the Doctor conjures a holographic screen, displaying the schematics of the spacecraft that recently landed nearby. He retrieves his glasses from his coat pocket, donning them as he peruses the screen. Pressing a few buttons, he zooms in on the bottom part of the ship before highlighting the drive.

Frowning, your eyes narrow as an unsettling weight settles at the pit of your stomach while reading what's on the screen.

"Too good for us now?" Shirley remarks as she rolls up in her wheelchair. The Doctor briefly glances at her, nodding, and casually greets, "Evening."

Shirley smiles knowingly as she looks between the two of you. "Doctor. I see you and my colleague have talked. Has galaxies and universes collapsed yet?"

The Doctor hums, "Mmmm, not yet. Soon maybe, if I could get her to kiss me."

You smack him on the shoulder a little harder this time, and he yelps out, "Ow!" Making a face at him, you retort, "Oh, sod off!"

The Doctor gives you a cheeky smile while Shirley chuckles next to you. She then looks at the holographic screen on display, and the Doctor brings his focus back to the problem at hand, saying, "That’s a double-bladed dagger drive, damaged by laser fire which means we’ve got two sets of visitors at war with each other."

He glances at Shirley politely, "Nice to meet you. Did you get the heat readings on deceleration?" Shirley chuckles and clicks her tongue, "Oh, I got everything." She unfolds her tablet to give to the Doctor, who presses a button on his sonic screwdriver to close the holographic screen. Taking the tablet, he begins to analyze the readings as your colleague introduces herself, "Shirley Anne Bingham, UNIT Scientific Advisor number 56."

The Doctor sounds delighted, saying, "Oh! I was Scientific Advisor number one."

Shirley smiles, "No, I know. I’ve read the files. I’m gonna get a bonus just for meeting you."

The Doctor makes a face, not used to humble praise. "Oh."

Shirley then asks, "But why are you hiding away? We’re on the same side and it can’t be ‘cause of her now." She looks at you, and you also turn your attention to the Doctor.

He slightly groans and inhales sharply before replying, "It’s all a bit mad, Shirley. I don’t know who I am anymore."

Shirley crosses her legs in the wheelchair and says matter-of-factly, "Well, you look like the Doctor to me."

The Doctor shrugs, "Well, exactly. The one in the skinny suit. After that, I wear a bow tie. After that, I’m a Scotsman. After that, I’m a woman."

Shirley frowns, "But that’s your future. You can’t know that. It’s forbidden."

The Doctor replies, "I regenerated. And she became me."

Both of Shirley’s eyebrows rise, and her eyes widen as she says, "You got your old face back?"

The Doctor replies with a resounding pop, "Yep."

"But why?" Shirley asks, and the Doctor sighs, "Well, that’s what I’m worried about."

He then inhales deeply before continuing, “Because, besides this lovely stubborn woman right next to me,” you pinch the bridge of your nose briefly as he continues, “I've got this friend called Donna Noble. She was my best friend in the whole wide universe. I absolutely love her as much as I love this one right here.” The Doctor pulls a face and pouts, puffing out a breath as his thick eyebrows furrow, he says, “Oh. Hmm. Do I say things like that now?”

Shirley smiles at him while commenting, “Sounds like a good thing to say.”

You mumble, “I’m not used to this.”

“But Donna took the mind of a Time Lord into her head. I had to wipe her memory to save her life. If she ever remembers me she will die. So what happens next?” The Doctor said with emphasis and leaned closer to you and Shirley, “I get this face back, and the TARDIS lands right next to her. I turn around, there’s her husband. A spaceship crashes in front of her. That led me here to my other best friend in the whole wide universe, my Time Lady who I thought was dead for many years. It’s like she’s drawing us in.” The Doctor finishes, and you and Shirley give each other a look, processing everything he has just said. Especially you, who was processing the fact he called you his. You and Shirley blinked a few times before Shirley said, “What? She’s making it happen?”

The Doctor shakes his head, “No, she’s got no idea. She’s so ordinary. She’s brilliant. She’s got this beautiful daughter. She’s happy. Is she? Hmm.” He pauses before saying in a lower tone, “But the universe is turning around the two people I love the most again. I don’t believe in destiny, but if destiny exists, then it's heading straight for Donna Noble and quite possibly the love of my life right next to me.”

You blink in surprise, opening your mouth to try and say something, maybe correct him, but nothing comes out, so you sit there, mouth gaping next to him like a fish while Shirley has a toothy grin as you say to the Doctor, “Okay, I’m still not used to whatever this is… and I don’t think I ever will be. You’re kind of freaking me out a little, dear.”

The Doctor grins, “Ooh, are we doing pet names now darling?”

You rub your right eye, feeling a migraine beginning to form, “I… What the hell is happening? You sure you’re alright? Last time you regenerated into this form you had a high fever and you were… completely out of it.”

The Doctor scrunches his nose and sniffs, “I feel great. Fantastic even!”

You purse your lips, observing the Doctor from head to toe, and then focus on his eyes—those warm, inviting brown eyes. Softly, you remark, “You've grown.”

The Doctor returns your gaze, his lips forming a quirked-up smile that reveals a dimple. "Just a little bit, yeah."

Shirley interjects, steering the conversation back on course, “You said it was also heading for Donna. What for?”

The Doctor responds with a swift, “I don’t know.” Shirley replies with an, “Oh.” The Doctor continues, with deep emphasis, “But she can’t remember. I won’t be the one who kills her.”

Shirley nods, and the tablet in the Doctor’s hands beeps. He looks at it, saying, “Right. There’s no sign of a pilot, but that’s not an automatic drive, so you should look for–”

“Ma’am,” a soldier interrupts, cutting off the Doctor. He slinks back into the shadows, and you and Shirley listen to what the soldier has to say. “We found the escape pod. No sign of life, but we’re moving out to secure the site.”

Shirley quickly replies, “Good work, soldier. Go get it.” Dismissing the soldier and watching her walk away, the Doctor moves to stand, removing his glasses and putting them away, ready to follow the soldier. But Shirley raises her hand and says to him, “Uh, yeah, yeah. Not you two, mate. I’ve got this. Off you pop. Bye-bye.”

Shirley begins to roll her wheelchair away, leaving the Doctor and you confused. The Doctor then calls out to her, “Waited your whole life?”

To which Shirley throws a look over her shoulder as she responds with a smirk, “You wish.”

The Doctor looks at you, and you look up at him. He turns his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it with your hand. You glance at his hand and back to his eyes; he sees the uncertainty swirling through your gaze.

The Doctor speaks gently, “I know you aren’t ready and you’re scared… but I know you’re brave. And the universe listens to the brave. C’mon, it’s time to be brave again.”

You release a shaky exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat and dismissing the rational urge to walk away from him. Taking his hand, he tugs you along, pushing his legs into a run with you, hand-in-hand.

He thrusts the exit door open, utilizing his sonic screwdriver with his other hand on the back of the UNIT truck, the chains rattling as the trunk hatch pops open, pulling you with him to settle at the back of the truck.

As the UNIT truck pulls away, you see Shirley waving you off, and the Doctor gives her a small salute while you offer her a faint smile.

CHISWICK, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

You constantly poked your head out to see the stars, in case anything had changed. The Doctor held your hand, squeezing it every time you did, quietly reassuring you that whatever you faced, you'd do it together.

Arriving in the residential area, a long street lined with cars and now multiple UNIT trucks and soldiers running around, you could hear Donna shouting, “Oh, what the hell is it doing in my shed? Get out of my garden!”

The Doctor ran towards the sound of her voice, and you followed him. Reaching Donna's home, the Doctor pounded on the door, “Let us in! Let us in!”

Sylvia glared at the Doctor as she briskly walked towards him, but he exclaimed happily, “Sylvia! Oh, Sylvia! So nice to see you again. Could you let us in?”

Sylvia angrily whispered, “You said that if she sees you again, she will die. Well, no. If – if she remembers me. That’s slightly different.”

You heard and saw Donna through the stained glass yelling from down the hall, “No such thing as spaceships? We’ve got a bloody Martian in the shed!”

Sylvia angrily said, “Just get out of here, now.” But the Doctor knelt down to peek through the mail slot to see all the commotion, finding a small white fluffy creature with big eyes. “Oh, wow. He’s so cute,” the Doctor mumbled. With no other choice, he used his sonic to unlock the door as Sylvia told Donna, “Don’t look! Don’t look. It doesn’t exist.”

As the Doctor walked down the hall, with you trailing behind him, Sylvia whirled around to slap the Doctor. He grunted and groaned, “Here we go again.”

“It’s that man!” You recognized Rose say as Donna pointed at the Doctor, “Oh, it’s the skinny man!”

Sylvia continued to try and gaslight Donna, outstretching both her arms to block both of you, “He’s not there! You can’t see him. And there’s no monster. Oh, for the love of God, none of this is real!”

You and the Doctor ducked down and crawled to the creature to help assist them. In the middle of all the shouting and noise, you saw Shaun Temple appear, saying, “Hey, hey. Dad’s home.”

Everyone stood at a standstill, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next. After a pause, Shaun commented with a small smile, “Something smells nice.” Sylvia smiled, “Tuna madras.”

“Meep, meep.”

As you and the Doctor sat on the floor, he carefully wrapped Meep’s injury in his hands with medical tape, while you quickly assessed if the Meep had any more injuries. Sylvia spoke to Donna, “We should think about infection. I mean, I think this man should deal with this beast, and we can leave him alone and go back to mine.”

Donna pulled her arm away from Sylvia and gestured around the Meep, “Never mind. Never mind about the ferret from Mars.” She gave you and the Doctor a pointed look as she growled out, “Who the hell are you two?”

You looked to the Doctor for help, and he stumbled over his words, “I– um. What was it?” He looked to Shaun who replied, “A friend from Nerys.” To which the Doctor promptly agreed, “That’s it.”

Donna scrunches her nose and says, “Nerys. Well, now it all makes sense. That viper in the nest.” She continues and points to the Meep, “I’m not going anywhere. We could sell mad Paddington for a million quid.”

Everyone reacted, giving Donna a pointed look and a noise of disagreement, “Woah!” Donna tried to justify her comment by saying, “You fill the fridge!”

The Doctor’s expressive eyebrows furrowed, and he asked Donna, “What did happen to all your money?” Donna got defensive and threw back, “Why are you so interested in us? Everywhere you go, there you are. Now you got this woman with you,” She gestured to you, “are you sure you’re safe with him, darling? Is he forcing you to be with him? Did he kidnap you?!”

You blinked wildly at Donna, “Uh, no– I’m good. He’s my partner.”

The Doctor smirked at you, “Ooh, I’m your partner?” To which you narrowed your eyes at him, “Quiet, you.” He pouted but continued to finish wrapping the injury of the Meep, then the Doctor said, “There is one person missing. I used to know your grandad, Wilf.”

Donna shook her head, “He’s not with us anymore.”

The Doctor had a somber expression as he nodded, “Right. Course. He wasn’t young; he was—” His lower lip trembled as he admitted, “I loved that man. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Donna shook her head, emphasizing, “He’s not dead.” Sylvia shot the Doctor a sharp look, “You idiot.”

The Doctor gaped at them, and Donna continued to share, “He’s in sheltered accommodation. He’s 94. He can’t manage the stairs.” Shaun took over, saying, “We were lucky. We couldn’t afford it, but this offer came along.”

Rose smiled, painting a vivid picture, “It’s amazing. He’s got this room, like a cottage and a garden, and it’s almost free.”

“Run by that lot in the middle of town? UNIT? This woman in charge, Kate, she says he’s an old soldier, she’ll look after him.” Shaun said, and the Doctor's face lit up, “Right. I know her. She’s looking after Wilf. Brilliant. Brilliant.”

Shaun tilted his head as he looked at you, “You look very familiar… Weren’t you with Kate as you were helping with the accommodations for Wilf?”

Your lips pinched together as you nodded, “Yeah, I work with UNIT. I check on him regularly; he’s wonderful.”

“Meep, meep.”

You and the Doctor turned to the fluffy white creature in front of you, and the Doctor’s eyebrows raised as he inhaled sharply, “Yes! The Meep. I promise I can help him get home. Then you’ll never have to see me, or well, the both of us ever again.”

Rose looked at the Doctor and gave him a questioning look, “You’re assuming he as a pronoun? Hmm.”

The Doctor took it in stride and nodded, “True. Yes. Sorry. Good point.” He quickly turned to the creature and asked, “Are you he, or she, or they?”

The high-pitched voice of the Meep responded, “My chosen pronoun is the definite article. I am always the Meep.”

The Doctor’s expression shifted to one of understanding as his thick eyebrows raised and he nodded, “Oh. I do that. But you were shot down. Who wants you dead?”

You tilt your head, captivated by the Meep's explanation, “The Wrath Warriors. They cultivate Meepkind for our beautiful fur. But then the galaxy said, ‘No more fur. It’s wrong. So the Wrath Warriors slaughtered their livestock.”

The Doctor crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face, and leisurely leans back on the couch, letting his back rest against it, “You’re a fashion victim.”

A collective groan escapes from all the humans in the room, “No.”

The Doctor quickly mumbles an apology, and the Meep continues, “Now, they will hunt me down till there are no Meeps left.” The Meep sniffs, “It breaks both my hearts.”

You and the Doctor exchange surprised glances, both of your eyebrows raised. The Doctor shares with the Meep as he gestures to both of you, “You got two hearts? So do we.”

Donna quickly catches onto the Doctor's revelation and frowns, “You’ve got what?”

Sylvia tries to downplay what the Doctor just exposed, stammering as she speaks to Donna, “No. He means it like a metaphor. Like two minds. Do you?” You and the Doctor shake your heads, but suddenly there’s a pounding at the door.

“Open up!”

“Well, what the hell is it now?” Donna exclaims, her frustration evident as she wonders why all these strange anomalies keep happening. The Doctor pushes himself up, and you assist him with his navy blue coat as he puts it on. He continues addressing everyone in the room, “Ah, good. The soldiers! They can give us a lift.”

As he goes to answer the door, leaving you with the Meep and Donna’s family, Rose can't help but ask, “Are you two…”

Your cheeks feel flush, the tips of your ears turning warm, “Yep.”

Just as Donna is about to make a cheeky comment, you hear the Doctor slam the front door shut, loudly informing you all, “I think we need to run. Woah!”

Suddenly, an explosion rocks the backdoor, causing everyone to hit the ground with a collective yelp. You and the Doctor peek to look at the new visitor; arthropods, with a tough chitinous exoskeleton. With their external skeleton acting as a skelo-shield they had formidable strength. Their eyes were like large red lights. Seeing the Wrath Warriors enter while saying, “Wrath, attack formation! Surrender the Meep!”

UNIT soldiers burst in from the main entrance, their voices echoing down the hallway as they shout instructions to each other. The distant hum of gunfire and the vivid flashes of lasers light up the space, creating a chaotic symphony that fills your senses.

Donna, caught in the middle of the sudden onslaught, shouts in confusion and frustration, “What the hell is going on?”

The Doctor deftly manipulates his sonic screwdriver, adjusting its settings. He turns to Shaun and inquires, “Where’s your car?”

Shaun, bewildered but cooperative, responds, “Uh, five- five doors down.”

“Excellent.” The Doctor nods. He pivots, activating the sonic screwdriver to generate large, rectangular force fields. The blue glow emanating from the force fields reveals a recent upgrade, and you can't help but smile, commenting, “Nice upgrade, love.”

“Thanks, dearest. Help me move this, won’t you?” The Doctor passes the sonic to Donna, who handles it with familiarity. You and the Doctor work together to slide the force field into the first section of the hallway, dodging blaster shots as you go. Once in the living room again, you take the sonic from Donna, creating your force field with the Doctor’s scientific instrument. The Doctor observes you with admiration, and together, you slide the final force field into place, sealing off the area where the Wrath Warriors were firing from.

Immediately, the Doctor issues a commanding directive to the Noble-Temple family and the Meep, “Upstairs! Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up!” They follow the urgent order, shrieking as they ascend the stairs, sandwiched between the force fields that shield them from the relentless onslaught of gunshots and laser fire.

“Come on, Meep!” The Doctor encourages, executing an energetic dance of hopping and flailing arms. The Meep responds with a whimper, “No.” Undeterred, you and the Doctor persist, the Doctor continuing his lively hopping routine, insisting, “Come on! That’s it.”

You guide the Meep up the stairs, the Doctor closely behind. A reassuring hand rests on your back as the trio ascends. When you're halfway across the corridor, a deafening explosion erupts from behind. The Noble-Temple family screams in fear, and you're thrown to the ground. However, the Doctor reacts swiftly, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to break your fall. In a protective move, he cushions the impact with his body, leaving you on top of him.

You swiftly roll off him, your palms hitting the floor as you propel yourself upward. Grasping the Doctor's hand, you haul him to his feet, both of you swiftly turning around to confront the aftermath—a colossal, gaping hole now occupying the space where a window once stood. Donna's cry of agony echoes through the room, "My house!"

Despite the devastation, there's no time for dwelling. The Doctor urgently directs everyone, gesticulating emphatically, "Upstairs. Upstairs, upstairs!"

Observing the Wrath Warriors soaring menacingly through the breached window, and amidst the symphony of gunfire and laser blasts echoing from the stairs, you and the Doctor deftly ascend to the third floor. With a swift motion, he lowers the ladder leading to the attic, urgently urging everyone, "Up we go! Fast as you can."

The entire group efficiently ascends to the attic. Positioned beside a robust brick wall connecting attics along the street, you and the Doctor huddle close. The Doctor showcases the device in his hand, proclaiming, "This is a sonic screwdriver. And if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete." He flips it in one hand before activating it, causing vibrations to ripple through the mortar.

Shaun interjects, "That's not concrete. That's mortar." Donna, in her familiarly exasperated tone, sighs and quips, "Thank you, Bob the Builder."

With a determined push, you and the Doctor dislodge the bricks, prompting them to cascade down. Donna crouches beside the Doctor, complimenting, "Skinny minnie, you're not bad."

The Doctor grins at Donna, "You think?"

However, Sylvia intervenes, frowning as she guides Donna aside, firmly asserting, "No, she doesn't. Now move."

"Come on. Five houses down," the Doctor grunts, effortlessly moving aside a box brimming with Christmas decorations. He takes the lead, guiding the family through the interconnected attics.

Traversing through these loft spaces, you witness the chaotic scene unfolding outside, with laser beams and gunshots punctuating the air. Explosions resonate in the distance as you navigate the makeshift route, carefully descending a staircase. Along the way, you stealthily pass by someone deeply immersed in sleep on a couch, oblivious to the turmoil around them.

Upon reaching a door, the Doctor jostles it open, revealing a view of the black cab parked a few meters away. Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and distant shouts, the Doctor extends his hand and requests, "Can I have the keys?" Shaun promptly hands them over.

As the Wrath Warriors advance with their menacing backs turned, the Doctor swiftly swings the door open, directing the family and the Meep into the sanctuary of the black cab. Positioned in the passenger seat, you observe the Doctor deftly using his fingers to check the pulse of a fallen UNIT soldier. Abruptly, a Wrath Warrior pivots, growling, "Meep located. Stop the Meep!"

Evading blaster fire with nimble agility, the Doctor slips into the driver's seat, swiftly igniting the engine and propelling the cab into motion. The Meep whimpers, "Help! Save the Meep!"

As the Doctor skillfully navigates away, Donna exclaims, "Oh my God!" Shaun pivots within the cab, jubilantly stating, "You did it!" Meanwhile, Rose chimes in, "We're alive," and Sylvia expresses gratitude, "Thank you."

"Meep, meep."

While the Doctor keeps a vigilant eye on the side mirrors during the escape, there's a discernible shift in his tone, "Either we've escaped, or we've got things very, very wrong."

UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

The Doctor skillfully maneuvers the cab, smoothly parking it in an underground garage. A contemplative furrow graces his forehead as he steps out of the vehicle. With an attentive courtesy, he opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to alight from the cab. Simultaneously, he opens the back passenger door, facilitating the exit of the Meep.

The Doctor deftly extracts a barrister's wig from the depths of his coat, perching it atop his head with an air of theatrical flair. Meanwhile, the Meep positions itself purposefully in front of the cab. In a tone of authoritative declaration, the Doctor announces, "This court is now in session."

With a swift motion, he retrieves his trusty sonic screwdriver, and it emits a distinctive whiz as he proclaims, "Intercept teleport!"

The Meep emits a piercing shriek, swiftly retreating a few meters behind you and the Doctor. Donna, emerging from the cab, questions, "What the hell are you doing?" The Doctor, with an authoritative air, responds, "Silence in the court."

In the blink of an eye, two Wrath Warriors materialize just across from you and the Doctor. You stand there, massaging your face with your hand, as he adopts a menacing tone and declares, "I’m invoking Shadow Proclamation protocols 15, P, and 6. Under my jurisdiction, there will be no violence until such time I deem it fit and proper. Is that understood?"

The Wrath Warriors nod in compliance, dutifully stowing away their weapons to their sides. The Doctor, brandishing his sonic, gestures towards the taxi, asserting, “Now, exhibit A. The taxi. No scorch marks. Donna, can you confirm?” Donna swivels around, inspecting the taxi behind her, and nods, “Um. Yes, no, nothing.”

You arch your eyebrows, interjecting, “We were hit by plasma bolts, but there isn’t a mark.” The Doctor affectionately kisses your forehead, remarking, “Clever girl.” You duck your head, feeling a slight warmth in your chest and cheeks. He proceeds, “And that soldier in the street. He was unconscious, not dead.” Pointing at the Wrath Warriors' guns with his sonic screwdriver, he continues, “Exhibit B. Those guns are stun guns. Is that correct?”

The right Wrath Warrior nods, “The guns apply a mild and harmless neural anesthetic. For the record, my name is Sergeant Zogroth.” The left Wrath Warrior adds on and says, “And I am Constable Zreeg.”

The Meep interjects from behind you, its large ears folding to the side, “But the evil Wrath Warriors want to kill the Meep.”

“The only ones out to kill were the soldiers with the swirling eyes,” the Doctor asserts, gesturing in a circular motion with his sonic, his eyes widening to emphasize his point. “Were they coming to hurt you, the Meep? Or save you?” The Doctor eyes the furry creature suspiciously.

“If I may speak,” Sergeant Zogroth says, and the Doctor promptly replies, “Address the court.”

“The story of the Meep is a tragic tale. Their planet basked in the light of a living sun. Until one terrible day, the sun went mad,” Sergeant Zogroth began, his voice laden with the weight of the narrative. Constable Zreeg chimed in, “A psychedelic sun.”

Sergeant Zogroth continued, “Its radiation mutated all of Meepkind into cruel beasts who live for conquest.”

The Doctor's face lights up with realization, "The eyes. That's solar psychedelia." Sergeant Zogroth adds, “It renders them as maniacs.”

“The Meep army captured the Galactic Council, beheaded them, and ate them,” Constable Zreeg revealed, sending shivers down your spine. You and the Doctor exchange a grimace at the horrifying revelation. “The Wrath Warriors were summoned. And we fought across the stars, a long and awful battle,” Sergeant Zogroth continued with a somber tone.

“Meepkind died rather than surrender. And now, only this one survives. Their leader, the most cruel and despicable of all,” he added, pointing to the Meep, who responded with a plaintive, “Meep, meep.”

The Doctor, adopting a composed stance, interjects, “Now. Let’s be fair. It’s your turn, the Meep. Witness for the defense. So, what do you say?” The Doctor crosses his arms, and you observe as the Meep's innocent visage transforms into something more sinister and monstrous.

The Meep's sharp teeth are bared as it growls defiantly, "Oh, to hell with this!" With a swift motion, it brandishes a weapon, declaring, "Exhibit C!" The Meep takes aim and fires, bringing down the two Wrath Warriors, their bodies collapsing to the ground. You, the Doctor, and Donna quickly rush to the fallen foes. The Doctor, during the action, removes his barrister wig. The Meep, in a sinister tone, adds, "No stun guns for me! Just die!"

Shaun leaps out of the cab, urgently shouting, "Donna! Donna, don't!" Despite his plea, Donna remains fixated on the fallen warriors, her concern evident. You find yourself beside the Doctor on the ground as the Meep triumphantly declares, "And here they come! My soldiers of the psychedelic sun!"

Suddenly, a convoy of UNIT vehicles arrives, accompanied by soldiers with their distinctive headgear, forming a protective perimeter around all of you. Their authoritative voices ring out, "Obey the Meep!"

Donna, her maternal instincts flaring, turns to Shaun and passionately commands, "Get out! Get Rose out!"

Shaun swiftly maneuvers to the driver’s seat while Rose and Sylvia settle back in the taxi. However, the UNIT soldiers, now under the control of the Meep, have you all surrounded with no clear escape.

“I don’t need to pretend, for I am the Beep of all the Meeps,” the Meep declares, grinning menacingly with its sharp teeth.

Sergeant Zogroth emits a final groan, his parting words being, “Sergeant Zogroth regrets retirement from active duty.” His eyes dim, and his body goes limp. Donna, disgusted, confronts the Meep, saying, “I was right. You are a monster.”

The Meep revels in Donna’s anger, taunting, “And you believed every word I said. You stupid woman! With your weird child!”

Donna, ready to confront the Meep for insulting her daughter, stands defiantly, retorting, “Oh, don’t you dare!”

The Meep, relishing the confrontation, points its weapon at Donna, threatening, “Oh, I dare!”

You quickly rise, positioning yourself in front of Donna, raising your hands in a protective stance. Simultaneously, the Doctor moves across the floor on his knees, hands raised, pleading, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! But— Last-minute evidence! Me.”

He emphatically points to himself and exclaims, “Why are there two more two-hearted species on this planet? Unless we are part of a strategy by the Wrath Warriors to outfox you? If you kill me and her and fail to take this family hostage, you’ll never find out, will you?”

The Meep hums, then commands the soldiers, “Bring them!”

The Doctor stands animatedly, “Good! Now, look, I can suggest a much better way off this planet than a double-bladed dagger drive. ‘Cause that thing is gonna—”

His sentence remains unfinished as he is abruptly knocked out by a UNIT soldier. The Meep cackles triumphantly as the rest of you are ushered into the back of a truck, alongside the unconscious Doctor.

On the truck's floor, the Doctor lay with his head resting on your lap, his unconscious form a testament to the challenges you faced. Your fingers moved soothingly through his untamed, spikey hair, offering a quiet comfort amid the tension.

Donna observed the scene, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How long have you two been together?" she inquired, attempting to place where she might have encountered you before.

"A good number of years," you replied, choosing to keep the more intricate details to yourself, considering the Doctor's timeless nature.

Rose, equally intrigued, posed another question, "Are you two married?"

A snort escaped you. "Nope. I don't think he wants that with me if I'm being honest."

“Why?” Rose pressed on.

Your gaze drifted, and you sniffed softly. "I’m all sorts of wrong for him. And sometimes, it scares me. The emptiness I see in my eyes,” you admitted, vulnerability seeping into your words. Your eyes lingered on the Doctor as you continued, “The Doctor is brilliant. He is truly brilliant. After all he’s been through... he deserves everything good and more… more than me.”

As your confession lingered in the air, the Doctor began to stir awake, bringing a momentary hush to the truck. His eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped him as he gradually sat up, settling next to you.

Donna eyed the Doctor with suspicion, her narrowed gaze fixed on him. "Who are you?" she questioned, her tone demanding answers.

The Doctor, still feeling the effects of his earlier unconsciousness, touched the back of his head with a wince. "I’m just passing by," he nervously replied, attempting to deflect her inquiries.

Undeterred, Donna redirected her attention to her mother, Sylvia, and pressed on, "Do you know him?" Sylvia, in an attempt to conceal any familiarity, shook her head, responding, "No."

Donna, frustrated and puzzled, continued, "You act like you know him. Ever since he arrived, it’s like—" She heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly halting her train of thought. "I’m so stupid!" she declared, voicing her self-reproach.

Shaun quickly reassured his wife, "No. No, you’re not."

Donna shook her head, lost in contemplation. "We could be living somewhere far away from here. Monte Carlo. Switzerland." She then turned to her daughter Rose, who sat beside her. "And you— And you’d be safe, Rose." Donna pulled Rose into a comforting side hug. "It’s all my fault. Gave away that lottery money."

The Doctor, unable to resist his curiosity, interjected, "Why?"

Donna shot him a glare. "Because. There are places out there where people are in danger. And in pain. And fear. And I could help. Just felt the sort of thing he would do." Her words hung in the air, revealing a sense of duty and compassion that drove her actions.

Abruptly, the truck jolts to a stop, resulting in the Doctor colliding with one of the crates, eliciting a pained groan. You swiftly move to assist him. The truck door swings open, and a stern voice commands, "Out!"

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS

NORTH LONDON, – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

The UNIT soldiers briskly led you towards the heart of the steelworks, where the Meep's spaceship had strategically landed.

"It didn't choose the steelworks by accident. It came here to be mended," the Doctor remarked as the group neared the spacecraft. The Meep made a grand entrance, seated on a makeshift throne of steel carried by a procession of UNIT soldiers. With its menacing teeth and booming voice, it declared, "Hail to the Meep!"

A hypnotic chant echoed through the steelworks as multiple officers joined in unison, "Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High. Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High."

"Human scum, behold my vessel to the stars! Far beyond your tiny, grasping minds," Beep the Meep declares with an air of arrogance. You respond with an eye roll of annoyance, and the Doctor shakes his head while humorously interjecting, "I name this ship the Delusions of Grandeur."

Beep the Meep growls in protest, "Meep."

"You can't fire those engines. Not from here. A dagger drive gets its energy by stabbing down. It would extract, ooh, five square miles? The whole of London town burnt as fuel," the Doctor explains, his tone serious and concerned.

Rose, wearing a frown, adds, "But that's nine million people."

"A great day for Meepkind. And the start of a new reign of terror as the Meep return to the stars for revenge. And feasting. Now, activate the initializers," the Meep commands, its voice dripping with malevolence.

A disciplined UNIT soldier swiftly responds, "Initializers activated."

The low hum of the spaceship's engines reverberates through the steelworks as the Meep grins with an evil glint in its eyes, proclaiming, "Brandish the gravity stanchions."

"Gravity stanchions brandished," announces a focused UNIT soldier as the prongs of the spacecraft forcefully dig into the ground.

"Calibrate the flight deck," the Meep commands with a sense of authority, intensifying the tension in the air.

A disciplined UNIT member announces, "Flight deck calibrated."

The Meep, perched on its steel throne, commands, "Take the prisoners on board! Then I’ll decide which one to eat first. Hail to Meep!"

The rhythmic chant of the hypnotized UNIT soldiers fills the air, "Hail to the Most High! Hail to the Meep!" while the Meep indulges in a sinister cackle, reveling in its delusions of grandeur.

The liftgate slams shut, transporting you to a different floor. Thoughts of subduing the UNIT guards swirl in your mind as the lift grinds to a halt. As the gate creaks open, Shirley appears, wearing a mischievous grin. "Evening, boys."

With swift precision, she activates a concealed device beneath her wheelchair, firing two darts at each soldier. The tranquilizers swiftly take effect, rendering the guards unconscious.

"You've got weapons in your wheelchair," the Doctor exclaims, eyeing Shirley with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She glances back at him, a knowing look in her eyes, and responds, "We all have. You've got your girl to thank for that. Come on." With a nod, she leads the way, wheeling herself confidently through the complex.

"Right. You lot, the family, you can get out through that door," Shirley says, gesturing towards the exit on the right. She then turns her attention to you and the Doctor, her tone more serious, "You need to get to the engine control. But the port side’s guarded, and there's no way around it."

A quick exchange of glances between you and the Doctor precedes his question to Shirley, "So what do we do?"

With a confident smirk, Shirley retorts, "I don’t just fire darts, mate." She spins her wheelchair around, revealing hidden capabilities. With the push of a button, two missiles activate and blast through the wall, creating a makeshift path forward. The unexpected firepower leaves you and the Doctor momentarily impressed.

Shirley swiftly directs the family, "You lot run. I’ll fight them off at the lift."

The Doctor tightens his grip on your hand, leading you through the large breach in the wall. The chaotic, metallic environment of the spaceship's bridge unfolds before you. With his trusty sonic screwdriver, the Doctor deftly manipulates the controls, unlocking the gate to the engine control room. As the door creaks open, the two of you step inside, ready to stop the ship from taking off.

The Doctor removes his coat and hangs it on one of the pillars as the ship's system voice declares, “Dagger drive systems initializing.”

In a sudden burst of energy, Donna enters the control room panting, "That's enough… running. Blimey."

The system voice abruptly announces, “Chamber deadlocked.” Panic sets in as the only exit seals shut, leaving the Doctor frustrated. He slams his hands on the door, exclaiming, “No, no, no, no! I told you to go—just don’t!”

Frantically, he moves about the room, urging, “No time. I’ve got this. We’ve got it. We’ve got it. You stay there. Don’t move, Donna!”

The Doctor and you scramble around, pressing buttons and flicking switches, racing against time as the system voice declares, “Star launch in five minutes.”

Climbing up one of the pillars, the Doctor instructs you while you squat on the other side to manipulate hidden switches. Suddenly, the system announces, “Deadlock sealed.” A flicker of discomfort courses through both of you as the ship's mechanisms react.

“It’s been deadlocked,” you groan, and Donna questions, “What’s that mean?”

The Doctor replies swiftly, “It means, we can do it by hand.”

You move to the far end of the ship, and the system voice chimes in again, “Maxifold bisecting.” A glass pane wall starts dividing the room, separating you from the Doctor and Donna. “You can stay on that side Doctor, I—” But then the Doctor rolls under the glass just before it seals, protesting, “Oh. No, no, no, no!”

“Double dagger drive installed and initiated.”

You can feel your eye twitch as you look at the Doctor standing next to you. “Okay, okay. Okay, we can do it with half the room. That’s fine.” The Doctor tries to reassure himself and you look at him wondering why he had to end up on your side of the room.

“Let me help.” Donna insists and the Doctor is quick to disagree, “No! You can’t get involved.”

Donna looks at the Doctor with a glare, challenging him and the Doctor tries to steady his resolve, “You can’t!”

It's then your turn to shoot him a pointed look. The Doctor groans and pants in frustration before finally surrendering. He instructs Donna, "Switches, the top ones, the blue ones, flick them all down."

Donna diligently follows his directions, swiftly flicking the switches down, while you navigate to a different section of your side of the room to spin a dial a few times. Despite your efforts, it proves futile, and you slump down in disappointment. The Doctor, leaning defeatedly on a pillar, somberly admits, "We've run out of time."

“Ignition in 230.”

The Doctor sighs with a heavy burden on his shoulders as he confides in Donna, "If there was anything else I could do, but there's one thing left."

"Well— Well, then do it," Donna urges, her tone laced with desperation. The Doctor, however, looks down in shame, prompting Donna to insist, "Hurry up and do it! What are you waiting for?"

Pushing himself off the pillar, the Doctor strides over to the glass partition separating Donna from the two of you. "I think… all that coincidence was heading here to save London from burning. 'Cause the three of us can stop this ship. Together."

Donna gasps in realization, "Oh."

As you rise and move towards the glass, locking eyes with Donna, you declare, "But it will kill you."

Donna sharply inhales, and responds easily, “Okay.”

The Doctor’s voice cracks as he says, “You’ll die.”

Donna's lower lip trembles, her eyes reflecting the imminent crisis, as she says, "My daughter is down there."

"Ignition in 180."

Tears well up in Donna's eyes, and her voice stammers with fear, "And it's not just Rose. It's nine million people. Who cares about me?"

The Doctor responds swiftly, his urgency palpable, "I do. We both do."

Donna takes a deep breath, mustering courage, and asks, "But why?" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and continues, "I'm just no one."

The Doctor's expression shifts to one of anger, his eyebrows furrowing as he yells, "No, you are not!"

He takes a few steps back, the weight of the situation evident in his sob and scream, "Why does it have to be this?"

"Entering the final sequence."

The Doctor looks at Donna with a somber gaze, defeated, as he utters the words that trigger Donna's memories, "Westerly. Pelican. Dreams."

Donna is desperate as she says, "I don't— Look, I don't care what it is. All right. Just— just go on and do it, will you?"

"Ignition in 150."

"Tornado. Clifftops. Andante," the Doctor says.

"Get on with it!" Donna shouts.

The Doctor continues, "Grief. Fingerprint. Susurration."

Donna's eyes light up as she begins to remember her adventures, "Oh."

The Doctor and Donna utter the last few words in unison, "Sparrow. Dance. Mexico. Binary. Binary. Binary."

A golden glow emanates from Donna, the metacrisis shimmering through as she regains her memories once more. You and the Doctor press your palms against the glass, witnessing her transformative moment.

"Ignition in 100."

As the glow dissipates, the Doctor anxiously asks, "Are you alright?"

"Ignition in 90."

Donna pants, sighs, and sweeps her bangs away from her eyes as she glares at the Doctor. Inhaling deeply, she says, "I gave away my money."

"Ignition in 75."

The Doctor looks at her, puzzled, "Right, but—"

Donna, expressing a mix of frustration and anger, interrupts, "I gave away all my money. And do you know why, Doctor? I gave it away to be like you. So I could be kind. So I could be nice. So I could be helpful— I—"

Donna releases a frustrated growl as the system voice continues, "Ignition in one minute."

Moving her face closer to the glass panel, Donna continues, "I had a subconscious, infracutaneous, retrofold memory loop making me act as soft as you and give away 166 million pounds!"

"Ignition in 50."

The Doctor, wide-eyed, nods in agreement but attempts to refocus on the urgent matter, "Yes, Donna, but— Destruction of London?"

"Oh, I'll show you destruction, mate," Donna declares, intertwining her fingers before flexing them to crack her knuckles.

"Ignition in 40."

You and the Doctor observe in awe as Donna moves around the control panel with ease. "I'll triple-drive the particle manifesto, overstep the umbilical feed, vindicate the cyberline, and roast the hyperfeeds! Like this!" Donna exclaims, spinning the dial on the lower left of her.

The Doctor navigates about half of the room, deftly flicking switches while instructing, "Maximise the stressfold links!"

"Channel up the booster drive!" Donna commands, pressing a few buttons.

"Inculcate the plexidrones!" You chime in, flicking a few more switches.

"And shatterfry the positrons! Oh yes!" Donna exclaims.

"Twenty, nineteen..."

Donna interrupts, asking, "How long have I got to live?" as she switches off a few controls.

"...sixteen, fifteen..."

All three of you simultaneously answer, "Fifty-five seconds."

"Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."

"The best fifty-five seconds of my life!" Donna exclaims.

"Seven, six, five, four..."

"Because I get to do this!" Donna proudly announces, turning around and simultaneously flicking off several switches.

"Three, two— Ignition halted."

You three watch as the panel flies off the wall; the countdown has stopped, and Donna proudly states, "Donna Noble is descending."

"Ignition reverse. Ignition reverse."

"It’s working!" The Doctor's voice resonates with exhilaration as the tangible effects of the reversed dagger drive unfold before your eyes.

However, your joy is cut short when you notice Donna beginning to falter. Panic sets in, and you urgently cry out, "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

Swiftly, both you and the Doctor move in unison to catch Donna as she descends, cradling her fragile form in your arms. Donna sighs, her expression reflecting a mix of exhaustion and relief. The Doctor reassures her, "We did it. She’s fine. She’s safe. You saved her."

Donna smiles weakly, and you add, "You saved them all."

In a moment of introspection, Donna questions, "Why did this face come back?" She turns her gaze towards the Doctor, who responds with a sigh, "I don’t know."

"To say goodbye," Donna asserts with a soft smile. She then shifts her attention to you, saying, "Oh, the Stargazer. I’ve missed you."

"I’ve missed you too, Donna, every day," you confess, and the Doctor emits a thoughtful hum.

"Good fun, though," Donna remarks, her chuckles mingling with yours and the Doctor's. The lighthearted moment takes an abrupt turn as Donna's eyes flutter closed, her entire being going limp in the arms of her two closest companions.

A collective sob escapes from you and the Doctor as you sit there, cradling your best friend, a bittersweet mixture of victory and loss filling the air.

Abruptly, the door to the engine control room opens, revealing a cadre of UNIT soldiers with swirling, hypnotized eyes. The air tightens with tension as one of them declares, "We have orders to kill you."

Undeterred, the Doctor retorts defiantly, "Do what you want. This ship isn't going anywhere. You were beaten. By the DoctorDonna." The soldiers, rifles at the ready, cast ominous shadows in the confined space. You resign yourself to the impending threat, feeling the Doctor's protective instinct as he positions himself to shield you.

In a surprising turn, the psychedelic light emitted from the soldiers' eyes screeches and hisses, dissipating into nothingness. Bewilderment echoes through the room, and you join the Doctor in uttering a perplexed, "What?"

Even one of the soldiers can't help but question, "What?"

Donna, roused from her unconscious state, adds her own disoriented, "What?"

The Doctor, his voice tinged with disbelief, softly utters, "You're not dead."

A collective sense of confusion lingers, and Donna, now fully awake, queries, "But how?" as she steadies herself.

After a brief pause, Rose's voice resonates through the intercom, "Can you hear me? Mum? Doctor? Star? I think it's safe for you to come down now."

Donna responds, perplexed, "Rose?"

The Doctor's eyes widen with a sudden epiphany, "Too much power for one person, but you had a child, and the metacrisis passed down. A shared inheritance."

Donna grins, “It was always there. Shining out of her.”

“And she chose her own name,” the Doctor adds.

“Oh, the shed! The shed was her memory of the TARDIS. The toys! Every creature we met, she remembered as a toy,” Donna says with a glint in her eye.

You gape, suddenly realizing, “We are binary.”

“She’s not. Because the Doctor’s—”

The Doctor interjects, “Male.”

“And female,” Donna finishes.

"And neither. And more," Rose says, her voice carrying a warm smile through the intercom.

Donna rushes down the stairs, her steps echoing in the cavernous steelworks. Rose meets her halfway, and they share an emotional hug, Shaun joining in the embrace.

You and the Doctor follow suit, descending rapidly to the ground floor. Sylvia awaits, and as you approach, the Doctor wraps her in a jubilant hug. He inquires, “Happy now?”

Sylvia responds with a radiant smile, "My father would be impressed. I have no higher compliment." Laughter of triumph fills the air as you and the Doctor proceed to the nearby control center.

Shirley deftly maneuvers her wheelchair towards you and the Doctor, offering her unique perspective. She addresses the Doctor with a sly grin, “There’s a word for you, Doctor. And that word is jammy.”

The Doctor responds with infectious enthusiasm, “Jam on toast.” He decisively slams a button, activating the intercom. With authority, he speaks into the microphone, “Calling the Meep.”

The Meep's defiant voice crackles through the speakers, “You forget I still have my ship. And if I have to explode the engines and rupture this world and damn us all to hell, then I will!” A shared glance between you and the Doctor follows, and he graciously hands you the task of flicking the crucial switch.

With a resounding click, the Meep’s cockpit is ejected into the sky, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the Meep's distressed shrieks. You and the Doctor gaze upward, drawn into the spectacle unfolding against the canvas of the vast night sky.

“There you go.” The Doctor points with a wry smile, observing the Meep’s cockpit deploying a parachute against the cosmic backdrop.

You feel the Doctor's reassuring grip on your waist as he pulls you into his side. Together, you look up, transfixed by the celestial display. The stars twinkle above, and in that moment, you choose to hope and believe that nothing universe-ending has transpired yet.

As the sun ascends on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, the Wrath Warriors stand sternly with the imprisoned Meep, forming an uneasy tableau. You step forward, addressing them with a heavy heart, "Sergeant Zogroth and Constable Zreeg gave their lives, alongside many Earth soldiers."

The Wrath Warrior, resolute in the face of the aftermath, declares, "Their names will be included in the litany of crimes as the Meep atones in prison for 10,000 years." The Meep, defiant in defeat, mutters, "Oh, I will escape and have my revenge. So you beware, Doctor and Stargazer, because there’s one more thing."

With a determined stride, the Doctor moves closer, inquiring, "Which is?"

“A creature with two hearts is such a rare thing. And to have two of your kind here… Just wait till I tell the boss,” the Meep retorts, an ominous promise lingering in the air. The Wrath Warriors and the Meep vanish in a teleportation, leaving a sobering aftermath beneath the morning sun.

The Doctor, caught in contemplation, mumbles under his breath, "Cryptic. I hate that." He takes a deep breath, turning his attention to Donna and Rose with a sense of urgency, "But… we’ve still gotta fix you two. ‘Cause the metacrisis might have slowed down, but that thing is wrapped around your cortex."

Donna, with an eye roll and a knowing nod, quips, “Yes, we know.”

Rose adds confidently, “We know everything, thanks.”

Donna, in her typical nonchalant manner, shrugs, “And you know nothing. It’s a shame you’re not a woman anymore. ‘Cause she’d have understood.”

Rose, crossing her arms, asserts with confidence, “You’ve got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

Donna, ever pragmatic, advises, “Just let it go.”

The unity between mother and daughter becomes evident as Rose takes Donna’s hand, and together, they release the accumulated metacrisis energy. Shaun interjects with a grin, “Like I said, mate, how lucky am I?”

Rose, with a joyous laugh, concludes, “After all these years, I’m… finally me.”

CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023

Shaun skillfully navigates the vehicle, bringing the group back to Camden Market in London. Earlier, you had informed Shirley about the intention to bid farewell to the Doctor and Donna before returning to headquarters. Shirley responded with a nonchalant, "Sure..." accompanied by a discerning look, rolling away from you in her wheelchair.

The Doctor maintains his characteristic chattiness as he informs Donna, "And UNIT has a splendid insurance policy for damage caused during an alien war. While they sort that out..." Approaching the iconic tall blue police box, the TARDIS, the Doctor gestures towards it, saying, "One last trip?"

"Uh, don’t you dare," Sylvie interjects with a pointed look. Donna, casting puppy eyes at both you and the Doctor, laments, “Do you know, I would love to.” She then takes a sharp inhale, sighs, and adds, “But… I have got adventures of my own, bringing up this one.” Donna points her thumb towards Rose.

“Can I see inside?” Rose asks the Doctor curiously, taking a step toward the TARDIS. Donna, however, swiftly moves her away, cautioning, “No. No! No. No.”

Rose sighs, and Donna playfully waves her finger, “No. Because summat will go wrong, and you’ll end up on Mars with Chaucer and a robot shark. And that’s actually happened, hasn’t it.”

The Doctor gives a sheepish, “Oh, yeah.”

“But I was thinking, we could go and see Wilf?” The Doctor suggests to you and Donna.

Donna then says, “Now that is cheating.”

The Doctor pouts, “Just a suggestion.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare.” Sylvie says, and Donna sighs, “But imagine his face, Mum. Oh, he would be so happy. All those secrets Grandad kept for years. He— He thought I’d never remember. And to see the Doctor. One last time.”

The Doctor and Donna make a puppy face to you and Sylvie, urging you to join them. Sylvie relents and gives in, “Oh, all right. But one trip. That’s all. Just one.”

The Doctor turns to unlock the door with his key while Donna laughs with glee, “One tiny, little trip. That is a promise.”

Donna turns to you and the Doctor and gasps in excitement, “It’s like the old days. Just me, the Doctor, and the Stargazer. Together.” She then turns to her family, “Is that all right?”

“Yeah, of course it is,” Shaun says confidently with a huge smile.

“Well, a lot of husbands would worry. You know, me, in a box, with another man.” Donna jokes, and Shaun shrugs and shakes his head, “Yeah. But not him.”

The Doctor looks somewhat offended, but then Donna shoos him to go inside, “Come on, space man.”

In the quiet aftermath, with Donna entering the TARDIS, the Doctor notices the unsure expression on your face. He whispers to Donna to go ahead, and she complies, leaving the two of you alone, behind the TARDIS, sheltered from prying eyes.

With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He cups your face with both hands, his smile revealing dimples that carry the weight of countless adventures. “The stars haven’t gone out.”

Your raised brows betray a hint of skepticism, “Yet…”

The Doctor locks eyes with you, his deep dark brown orbs conveying understanding. As tears well up in your eyes, you break the silence, your voice a fragile whisper, “You have no idea how bad it gets. How scared I am that all of this is temporary and I lose you… and I can’t have you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey. None of that,” he reassures, his gaze unwavering. “So far, everything has been leading me back to you. And when the time comes to face it… we’ll fix it… together. I can’t lose you again. Not ever again.”

His words linger in the air, a vow shaped by the quiet resilience of a Time Lord who has navigated countless challenges across time and space. You respond with a nod, sealing the unspoken pact, and tenderly kiss his wrists. In return, he draws you closer, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“When this is all over,” he declares, “we’re getting married.”

“What?” you screech, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.

“We've waited this long. I’m not spending the rest of my how many years without you,” the Doctor insists, his eyes earnest.

“Is this a proposal?” you inquire, a mixture of surprise and delight in your voice.

“If you want,” he smirks, playfully nonchalant.

On tiptoe, you reach up to kiss the tip of his nose, a tender acknowledgment, “We'll see.” The promise of an unwritten future hangs in the air, held by the shared understanding that time and space will unfold their stories together.

THE TARDIS

The Doctor guides you inside the TARDIS and closes the door behind him and both of you are in awe of the major changes of the entire TARDIS. Huge curved white walls with round circles that glow with lights and many ramps that lead to different corridors.

The Doctor hangs his coat on one of the railings as he grins and laughs, “Whoa!” He begins to run around all the ramps with the energy of a little kid as he shouts, “This is amazing!”

“It changed! Oh, you clever thing! Look at that!” The Doctor laughs as he finishes his lap around the new interior of the TARDIS. He runs over to the console and smiles, “It’s got this!”

He pushes a lever forward, and the lights within the TARDIS shift to a vibrant orange, casting a warm glow. Your gaze is drawn upward in awe as the ambient hum of the time machine resonates around you. Running your fingers along the railings, you can feel the TARDIS responding, and you affectionately murmur, “Hello, sweet thing. I missed you too.”

Amid the luminous atmosphere, the Doctor darts around the console, engaging with switches and buttons on the refurbished device. Donna, observing the transformation, remarks, “It’s still a bit nippy.”

The Doctor protests, “Oh, come on!”

Undeterred, Donna concedes with a grin, “All right…” Her expression changes as she admires the surroundings, “It’s gorgeous!” Laughter bubbles up from both Donna and the Doctor, who joins in the jubilation, bouncing excitedly.

“It’s cleaner. And it’s grown,” Donna observes, her laughter echoing through the TARDIS.

Making your way to the console, you overhear Donna questioning the Doctor, “But I— I still don’t get it. I mean, the TARDIS can change all right. But what about your face? Why did it come back?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” the Doctor muses, and Donna, with a snort, retorts, “In your life? Yes!”

With a nonchalant shrug, the Doctor remarks, “Well, I’m stuck with it now.” He continues exploring the console, fidgeting with excitement, and comments, “Oh, this thing is brilliant. It’s even got a coffee machine!” Glancing at you and Donna, he inquires, “You want one?”

You shake your head, “No, thank you, darling.”

“You’re kidding,” Donna says with wide eyes.

“With cold milk, yeah?” The Doctor deftly presses a few buttons, and Donna, smiling, says, “Well remembered.” To your delight, a white cup materializes with coffee and cold milk.

He carefully hands the cup of coffee to Donna who says, “Thank you very much. Careful. It’s how I lost my job. Dropped a coffee in the computer.”

To which the Doctor just hums and moves to flick a few more switches around the console as you lean on a railing, to listen to him say, “I really do remember, though. Every second with you. I’m so glad you’re back ‘cause it killed me, Donna.” The Doctor clicks another switch as he continues on, “It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.”

"We can have more days, can’t we?" Donna inquires, her tone laced with a mix of hope and curiosity. Her eyes reflect a desire for a future filled with shared moments. Continuing with optimism, she suggests, "I mean, why is it such a big goodbye with you? Why is it one last trip? ‘Cause you could visit. With my family."

The Doctor, absorbed in examining a screw, listens attentively as Donna paints a vivid picture of ordinary yet precious moments. "We could do outrageous things, like have tea, dinner, and a laugh! And Rose’s school play. Well, maybe not that. She can’t act. She’s terrible. I don’t know how to tell her. But the point is, you’ve been given a second chance. You can do things differently this time."

Encouraging him to embrace change, Donna suggests, "So why don’t you do something completely new and have some friends?"

The Doctor contemplates the idea, responding with a hesitant "Maybe. Yeah." Donna chuckles, savoring the simplicity of their current moment. "Mmm. Like now," she remarks, lifting her cup as if to toast. "Here we are. Having a coffee."

Before the Doctor can respond, Donna's accidental spillage disrupts the calm, eliciting a gasp from her. "What’s gonna go wrong—" Her sentence is abruptly cut off as the spilled coffee interacts with the TARDIS console, resulting in sparks and flames.

With urgency, Donna questions, "What’s happening?" The Doctor, swift in his actions, ushers both you and Donna away from the unfolding chaos. The TARDIS groans and whines as its engines protest, and the cloister bell rings ominously in the background.

"We could end up anywhere in time and space," the Doctor confesses, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. As the atmosphere fills with anticipation, you brace yourself, thinking, "Here we go again."

TAGLIST:

#14th doctor #14th doctor x reader #14th doctor x fem!reader #fourteenth doctor #ethereal writes #doctor who 60th anniversary #60th anniversary #catherine tate #doctor who special #david tennant #14th doctor x fem reader #doctor who x reader #donna noble #doctor who

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year ago

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Love, Lies & Electricity

AN: Hi all - here is my entry for week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer. This time it’s a Bucky x Reader fic. Thanks to all who voted in my poll a few weeks ago to decide who this reader should be.

Additional thanks and kisses to @drabbles-mc for beta-ing this.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 5 - We’re Exes

Summary: After Bucky Barnes broke your heart several months ago you never wanted to see him again. However, when he turns up and asks you to help him, Sam and Torres bring down a HYDRA base you can’t refuse as it will mean a chance to get payback on those who hurt you worse than he did.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

CW: Angst, Revenge, Sexual Content

There was a reason why you’d taken solace on the rooftop of an abandoned building in DUMBO - you wanted to be alone. You’d hoped that the omnipresent drizzle would have deterred most of those who might wish to contact you, even if they did manage to work out where you were. Despite this, you weren’t surprised in the least when Bucky appeared.

Even with your back to him and your gaze unwaveringly fixated on the view before you, you knew he was there. He had an energy about him - probably something to do with the circuitry to his arm - that you’d found easy to pick up on when you’d first met him, let alone after you’d become attuned to it.

“I told you not to bother me ever again, Barnes,” you stated in a flat tone, still avoiding looking at him.

There was a moment of silence, probably so he could consider his response, although you’d be surprised if he wasn’t expecting this type of reception.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but I - we - need you.”

Your lips twitched wryly. You should have known he wouldn’t be here of his own accord. You hadn’t had any contact from him since that day three months ago when you’d screamed and shouted and… he’d just stood there. Accepting your vitriol before turning and walking out of your life. The wound still felt raw.

When you’d first met him, you’d fallen hard and fast. Bucky just seemed to get you - understand you like no-one else, and you thought that you’d known him too. The nights you’d spent together, just holding each other and talking about what you’d gone through in your lives - finding comfort and companionship that transcended the physical connection that you had. However, like every other good thing in your life, it had come crashing down around your ears, but unlike other times, you hadn’t seen it - the hurt and the betrayal - coming.

Bucky hadn’t gotten involved with you because of who you were - he’d approached you because of what you could do - what you could bring to a new team of Avengers. Someone else who saw your value in connection to your freakish abilities. He breached your walls, then shattered them from the inside. You were still rebuilding them.

“What’s the job?” you queried, knowing that if you dismissed him out of hand he’d probably just push harder and you’d end up screaming at him.

“There’s a pocket of Hydra holdouts in a bunker in Massachusetts,” he rumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to control your physical reaction to his presence. “We can’t find a way in, and need the element of surprise. You’ve got the skills we need.”

You snorted. Of course it was all about your powers.

“Who’s asking? The White Wolf or Bucky Barnes?” You couldn’t keep the sneer from your voice.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t rise to it, instead asking, “Would it make a difference?”

A loud sigh left your throat. “I suppose you’re right. You knew I was in from the word ‘HYDRA’.”

You pushed yourself up from the roof ledge and finally turned to face him. The rain had plastered his dark brown hair to his face, making it look black. Droplets of water ran down the divot in his chin, before dripping off the end. Why did he have to be so beautiful? If you were that sodden you’d just look like a drowned rat, so you gave a quick thanks to the small electrical field you’d generated around you that stopped the rain from making contact.

“Let’s get this over with then.” Your voice - and heart - was already weary. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to never seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t answer, instead just giving you a look you couldn’t interpret before turning and walking towards the stairwell. You followed in his wake.

The journey upstate to the compound hadn’t been too arduous. Both you and Bucky had ridden your bikes, which had the dual advantage of making it easy to slip through the traffic and also negated the need for small talk. You hadn’t actually said a word to him since leaving the rooftop and you were totally fine with that.

You’d greeted Sam with a clipped ‘Hello’ and just stared through Torres when he’d shyly raised a hand in your direction. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know them.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Bucky had let out a small cough and suggested that you all go through to the briefing room and you’d nodded your assent. Now the four of you were gathered around the holographic blueprints.

“Our main issues,” said Sam, “are these gun turrets.” He pointed out the towers at each corner of the building. “Our intel says they are energy-based, which means if they can get disabled from inside the three of us should be able to get in easier.”

“That’s what we’re hoping you can do,” added Torres, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. It almost made you smile. Almost.

Sam continued. “Once we’re in, we aren’t expecting you to hang around. We know you aren’t a big fan of working with us.”

That was an understatement if ever you’d heard one, but there were bigger motivational factors involved. “You really think I’m gonna turn tail and not take the opportunity to get some payback?” you asked with a raised brow. “You don’t know me at all, Sam.”

A look of sympathy immediately took over his face. “I understand why you feel this way, but this isn’t what this mission is about. We need to shut them down and extract all the data.”

You frowned. You don’t know why you expected a different response from the new Captain America. “But you know that if we don’t stop them - neutralise every single one of them - then they’ll just regroup. Reform. We’ll - You’ll - be no better off than you were before and you’ll just have to hunt them down again another day.” The words came out sharply as your frustration grew.

“We’re not going there with the express intent of murdering people.” Sam bit back. “I’m a realist - I understand that there will be deaths - but I’m not going out of my way to create the highest body count possible.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “You’re a bleeding heart, Wilson. No mercy should be shown to HYDRA because they sure as hell won’t show you any.”

You turned on your heel and stalked from the room, walking along the corridor until you reached one of the glass walls that allowed you to look out over the forest surrounding the semi-secret base. You weren’t even there a minute before you felt a prickle up your spine. Your hands, that had been resting on your ribs where your arms were crossed, curled into fists.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you ground out between gritted teeth. He moved to stand beside you, leaning on the railing, and you could see him out of your peripheral vision.

“He’s a good man, you know. It’s why Steve gave him the shield and not me. He knew that for the mantle of Captain America you have to have some level of optimism.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “But it just seems so pointless.”

“You know I get it. We have a different outlook, you and I. As much as Sam can empathise with what we went through, try his best to understand, he will never get it. Much the same way that I can’t ever fully understand what it was like for him, being who he is, to grow up in this America. We just have to stick to our truths, and bend once in a while when it’s prudent to do so.” He turned towards you then, flashing a wry grin and you couldn’t help but turn your head as well. “And besides, what Wilson doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Bucky pushed away from the railing and started to walk back towards the conference room. Part way along he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You coming? We’ve got some HYDRA ass to kick. And by kick, I mean shoot in the head.”

Large hands spanned your waist, gripping firmly but not cruelly. Your legs were hooked over the arms connected to them, holding you wide open. Your eyes, only open a crack, could see the way his dark hair flopped down in front of his face, could see the way his body glistened with sweat as he pumped in and out of you. His muscles strained and his jaw was set.

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky exclaimed. “Feels so fucking good.” Your only reply was a whine as you dropped a hand down between you to strum at your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good. Wanna feel you come.” If you’d been capable of giggling at his statement you would have, because you’d come twice already - once on his face and once on his fingers. The man was insatiable for your pleasure. You weren’t gonna complain about it.

“Bucky!” you breathed out, not sure what you were actually trying to say, but hoping he could pick up on the tone. The air crackled, its molecules excited by your semi-conscious manipulation of the electric field around you. You could feel yourself rushing towards that peak, your core clenching - pulsing - around where Bucky was filling you with each delicious thrust.

He dropped his head, taking one of your pebbled nipples in his mouth and sucked on it. The sensation pulled tightly on the invisible thread that ran through your body to where the pair of you were joined. Tighter. Firmer. Higher…

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright as you gulped in lungful after lungful of air. Your hands shook and your skin was sweaty and you silently cursed Bucky Barnes as you flopped back down and pressed one of the pillows over your face. You hadn’t had a sex dream about him in weeks, but it stood to reason that as he was back disrupting your waking hours he’d do the same to your sleep as well.

Frustration welled up inside of you, and with a grunt you threw the pillow across the room, hearing it thud against the generic dresser. You were in one of the ‘guest’ rooms at the compound. White walls. White furniture. Grey bedding, curtains and carpet. It was fucking depressing. You were just glad that you weren’t going to be here for long. Just a few more days of going through the reconnaissance intel and running some training drills in the state of the art suite downstairs and then you’d be on the mission for real. Then, when it was over, you were going to leave - leave New York. Leave the state. Heck, you might even leave the country.

You flipped over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in, but every time you closed your eyes your mind conjured the image of Bucky looking at you as if you were the only thing in his world that had meaning. Sleep was a long time coming.

Three mornings later and you were up early, just finishing getting dressed where there was a knock on your bedroom door. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know who it was. Lightly slapping your hands against your legs, you strode over and opened the door. Bucky stood there, his fingers all twisted around each other until he seemed to jump at the realisation of what he was doing and put them both behind his back. A smile played at the corners of your mouth. The highlight of the last few days had been the discovery that Bucky was as discombobulated by your presence as you were by his. The only difference was that you seemed to be able to hide it better. That knowledge had allowed you to sleep better the last few nights - the schadenfreude was delicious. And if you’d then played up to it - accidentally rubbed past him in small spaces, or laugh and flirt with a sweetly awkward Joaquin? Well it was exactly what Bucky deserved in your opinion.

You looked up at him with a raised brow and leant against the door, arms folded across your breasts, and you noted the minute flicker of his gaze down and then back up. “Can I help you, Buck?”

He scowled as you over-pronounced the start and end of his nickname. “I came to see if you were ready. We need to leave in twenty.”

“It’s not my first rodeo, Sargent, a fact you well know. As you can see,” you gestured down the length of your body with your hand, “I managed to get dressed all on my own. I can manage to achieve a surprising amount of things without your help.”

You pushed away from the door and snagged your go back from the floor. It didn’t have a lot in it because unlike the others you only relied on your abilities for both offence and defence. No guns, knives, vibranium arms, shields or wings.

Bucky didn’t move away as you exited your room, causing you to brush against him to get by. As you did so, pointedly not looking at him, his right hand shot out and snagged your upper arm. “Honey, please can we t-”

You shook your arm free angrily. “You don’t get to call me that,” you hissed. “You lost that right months ago. And no, we’re not gonna talk. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. After this mission we never see each other again.” With that, you turned your back on him and stalked in the direction of the hanger. He didn’t try to stop you and you wondered why you felt a lump in the pit of your stomach about it.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #hot bucky summer 2024 #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader

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pullakori · 4 months ago

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Cherik resurrection 2025

1. Left out in the cold

This was not how Charles had thought the night would go. He was supposed to be forgetting the stress from his thesis and the legal battle with his step father by drinking, flirting, making out and finding a comfortable bed of someone else’s to crash on. And he had been doing pretty good on that plan until ten minutes ago! But now, he was stuck outside of some fraternity building after 1 am on Halloween night.

As the cold started slowly to seep into his skin and bones, Charles found himself wishing that he had dressed as a sexy librarian like he had originally planned. At least he would be wearing more clothes than he currently was as a cupid. He cursed Raven in his head as he sat on the building stairs, trying to gather enough energy for the long walk home.

At least he would get warmer as he started moving, he thought to himself, trying to pull the hem of the white toga lower, but not succeeding. He cursed Raven some more and then himself for letting her talk him into shortening the damn thing from the original length. It hadn’t been that long to begin with, but right now he would be grateful for every inch of extra cloth.

“Are you alright?” Charles didn’t know if it was because of his frustration or his slightly drunken state that he hadn’t noticed the stranger approaching. Felt his mind nor heard his steps. He turned to look up at the man with wide eyes and had to stop to take him in. He was tall and dressed in gothic clothing, with white shirt, deep maroon vest, dark trousers and a frilly white cravat. Instead of a jacket, he had a long maroon and black cape. Despite how covered the man was, the clothes left little for imagination, hugging and complementing his frame in the most delicious way. The man’s skin looked pale in the light of the street lamps and the sharpness of his cheekbones had been highlighted with some makeup. Maybe the unnatural paleness too, was a result of cosmetics.

His sharp eyes were staring intensely at Charles, his frown turning to a questioning rise of an eyebrow and suddenly Chalres realised that he had been staring for way too long.

“Ummm, yes, or no, I mean-” Charles forced himself to stop and think. Was he really going to bother this stranger with his unfortunate situation, even when there was not really anything he could even do about it?

The stranger tilted his head to the side and a small smile was tugging his thin lips. Well, Charles thought, there was no harm with unburdening his heart a little.

“Well, in truth, I have been locked out.” Charles explained and nodded behind him towards the house. The stranger glanced at the door and then back to Charles.

“You live here?” He asked and Charles hurried to shake his head.

“No, I was here to party. I was thrown out.” He said and when the vampire gave him a suspicious look, he felt the need to defend himself. “Which was not my fault, just so you know.”

The man seemed amused by his answer.

“Oh, is that so?” He probed lightly, with some doubt in his voice.

“Well, maybe slightly my fault.” Looking back, maybe his sultry behaviour in the party and slight drunken state might have compromised his judgement somewhat. But even then it had been a 10/90 situation. 20/80 at most! “But in my defence I didn’t know she had a boyfriend and she approached me. I learned that only after I had to dodge a drunken punch to the face.” It felt like he was making a court case for himself, but the stranger seemed to find amusement from his suffering.

“A trouble maker, I see” The vampire nodded with a small grin, before his look turned more curious. “Why are you still sitting here? You don’t seem so drunk that you can’t walk.”

“I’m just gathering mental energy to start the long walk home.” He had just stopped banging the door few minutes ago and the sudden shift in the night’s plans had caused him the need to take a moment to gather himself.

“How long?” The stranger queried and Charles shrugged.

“Thirty to forty minutes.” He sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but had made peace with it as the conversation had gone on.

The vampire looked alarmed by Charles’ answer, consern colouring his voice.

“That long? While wearing that?” Charles noticed how the vampire’s eyes lingered on his exposed skin and without thinking about it too much, he stretched his legs a bit and leaned back on the steps.

“Something wrong with my costume?” He asked, feigning ignorance and smirking inwardly as he saw the other man swallowing thickly, some colour appearing on his cheeks, but barely noticeable. So it was makeup, Charles thought to himself.

The man managed to pull himself together in quite admiring time, however. Though his eyes still crept to glance at Charles’ body every now and then.

“That is a long way to walk in this weather and it’s only going to get even colder. Almost freezing.” He cautioned Charles,

“Really?” That dampened Charles’ mood somewhat. He supposed the alcohol in his body had been keeping him little warmer this far, but if the night was about to turn even colder, his journey home would be very unpleasant indeed. “Well, I’ll keep warm by moving.” He sighed, finally standing up and stepping down from the stairs. No reason to keep avoiding the inevitable.

The stranger watched him with intense eyes, and if someone had told Charles that he truly was a vampire, he might have believed them.

“You don’t have anyone you could call to pick you up? There is a phone booth just around the corner.” The man nodded towards the direction where the phone most likely was, but Charles shook his head.

“No. Everyone I know is having fun at other parties, who knows where.” Even Hank had for once in his lifetime agreed to join Alex, Sean and Armando for a long night of festivities. Wasn’t that just Charles’ luck…

“Then how did you get here?” The vampire wondered.

“I had a ride.” Charles explained, and continued before the other man was able to actually voice the new question in his head. “And I planned on getting one back in the morning.” That had never been a problem before, Charles thought sourly.

But there was no point crying over the spilled milk.

“I better get going.” Charles decided, nodding to himself and turning to look at the stranger, who was looking unsure now. “Thank you for your concern. I will be fine though.” He thanked him and walked past him, beginning his long and chilly journey home.

“If you need a place to crash,” The man’s voice made Charles stop and turn around in shock. “I have an extra mattress and live less than 10 minutes from here.” The offer sounded sincere, but Charles still couldn’t believe what he had heard.

The vampire seemed to sense his hesitation, because he hurried to reassure him.

“No strings attached.” He said, holding his hands up. “I just don’t want to hear in the news tomorrow about how someone found a cupid frozen to death.” Under the unserious tone, there was actual concern of Charles’ well being. But just to make sure Charles wasn’t going to be killed tonight…

Charles moved two of his fingers to his temple for focus and as carefully as he could in his slightly drunken state, used his power to look into the vampire’s mind and his intentions. Reading thoughts under influence wasn’t dangerous, unlike trying to control someone, which was the reason Charles hadn’t tried to make someone let him in before.

He was almost thrown out by the mental shields that rose up to meet his probing, like metallic security doors. There was a moment of alarmed surprise in the vampire’s face, but then realization. The barriers lowered themselves and the stranger gestured at his head.

“Oh, right. Feel free to check.” The vampire said and Charles was a bit surprised by the ready acceptance of his mutation. But with the permission, he scanned the stranger’s, Erik Lehnsherr, intentions and found no ill will there, only concern, protectiveness and intrigue.

Happy to know that he didn’t have to walk all the way home and that he could spend the rest of the night with this curious man, Charles lowered his hand and smiled at Erik.

“Sorry about that, I promise I didn’t dig too deep.” Charles assured, but Erik shook his head.

“Not at all. It’s good to know that you seem to possess some self-preservation instincts.” The cheeky answer made Charles’ jaw drop slightly. The nerve!

“You got an impression I didn’t?” He questioned, slightly offended, but mostly amused.

Erik shrugged, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

“Considering that you were stuck outside in that outfit because you were making out with someone else’s girlfriend. It crossed my mind.”

“I told you, I didn’t know!” Charles insisted, although some colour started to heat his cheeks. “And you are one to talk about outfits! You are the one wearing a bloody cape!” He accused, pointing at the said garment.

His attack against Erik’s fashion sense seemed to take the other man aback.

“What is wrong with capes?” He sounded almost offended, frowning as he took hold of the cape and lifted it up a bit with his right hand.

“What isn’t wrong with them? They make you look like a comic book supervillain for starters.” Charles pointed out and his arms crossed, but his tone was more joking again. And the same mirth was mirrored in Erik’s expression too.

“I rather enjoy having a cape. They give an outfit a slash of…” He paused and threw the cape, making it flare behind him. “drama.” Erik finished and Charles had to roll his eyes as he tried to hold in laughter.

“Here I thought you were all broody and mysterious, but I’m starting to realize you are actually just a dork.” He teased and was delighted when the man let out a full chested laugh.

“Additionally…” Erik said as he got his breath back and brought his hand on top of the buckle that kept the cape on his shoulders. It came undone like it was magic, or by mutation, and with one smooth movement the other mutant wrapped it around Charles, surrounding him in sudden warmth that almost made him melt. “capes keep you warmer.” The last part was murmured so close to Charles’ ear that he could feel the warm breath tingling it.

He would have been lying, if he said that his legs didn’t go little weak from it.

But, too soon Erik stepped back and gestured at the road.

“Shall we?” He asked and with a nod from Charles, they started to walk towards Erik’s apartment. The cape was slightly uncomfortable, considering that Charles already had wings and quiver on his back, but it was a small price to pay for the warmness.

“So, should I call you Dracula or..?” Charles asked after a moment of silence.

“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t find my name in my mind when you were digging around there.” Erik glanced at Charles with a smile and a raised eyebrow, causing Charles to cough from getting called out like that. Though Erik’s non-judgemental attitude towards his telepathy was quite refreshing.

“Sure, but it is more polite to ask about it aloud.” He said and offered his own hand. “I’m Charles Xavier, I study genetics and I have to say that you have a very groovy mutation yourself, my friend.” He started, leveling the playing field. Erik took Charles’ hand and gave it a firm but small shake.

“Erik Lehnsherr, engineering. And my mutation is magnetism.” He explained and immediately Charles’ mind was filled with dozens of questions he wanted to ask the other. But for now, he let Erik’s hand go and smiled even more broadly at the other.

“Well Erik, I feel like this is the start of something amazing, my friend.”

#modernish au #still have powers #first meeting #lost motivation towards the end #(^w^')7 #hopefully you guys enjoy it nevertheless #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik resurrection #charles is a cupid because of that one interview #and erik is a vampire because he needed a cape #this one was supposed to be for january #but i really struggled at the end #so it's a bit late #hopefully this month's one won't be #maybe..?

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123countwithme · 11 days ago

Text

Eepy - Rich and Smitty

Summary: After a long day of adventuring, Smitty looks like he's about to crash out from exhaustion. Too tired to make it home by himself, Rich helps him get home safe.

"Night guys," Smitty tiredly waved to the group as he made his way to the door.

"Smitty, you look tired. Way more tired than usual. You good?" Dave gestured to Smitty's face and body language.

"Had a big day today is all see you all tomorrow."

"You mean Monday, right? Tomorrow's Saturday." Scott corrected Smitty.

"Yeah, yeah," Smitty dismissed his mistake and opened the door, only to walk into the other side of the door, which was shut.

"Maybe someone should take you home, Smitty." Nina gently guided Smitty away from the closed door, making him stop trying to walk through it.

"No, no, it's fine, I'll do it myself." Smitty shook his head.

"If you can't get out of the warehouse, how do you think you'll be able to get home?" Scott scrunched his face as he placed a hand on his chin.

"Easy peasy," Smitty yet again walked into the closed door.

"Oh, someone is definitely taking you home." Dave firmly put.

"But who?" Scott queried. To which Dave smiled.

"I'm sure Rich could," Dave suggested.

"All right, everything is away and where it should be." Rich walked into the room, dusting his hands off.

"Hey, Rich, could you take Smitty home?" Dave asked.

"Is there a problem? Does he not feel well?" Rich grew concerned.

"Well, you see if you take a look at his state..." Dave pointed behind him where he thought Smitty was, but Smitty had walked off. He turned around when Rich gave him a puzzled look. "Where did he go?" Everyone in the room looked around.

"Me's might mere," Warehouse Mouse spoke up from where he sat on the top of the couch. Smitty was sitting down on the couch and then slowly flopped to the side, now lying on the couch, eyes shut, falling asleep.

"He sure is tired." Scott wandered over.

"See, Rich, this is the reason someone has to take him home." Dave opened his arms to the subject.

"He couldn't even get out of the Warehouse door." Nina shook her head lightly.

"I'm happy to help, but why me?" Rich looked at them all.

"I have a catch-up to go to." Dave scratched behind his head.

"You mean a date with Boris?" Nina grinned.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oooh," They all chimed in, giggling.

"I still have work to do at the cafe, sorry." Nina rocked on her feet.

"I ride a bike," Scott fiddled with his hands, glancing at Rich.

Rich looked where Smitty was knocked out on the couch. "Don't worry, everyone, I can. I'm not doing anything anyway." he walked over to Smitty and dropped down to the couch level.

"Thanks, Rich, glad that Smitty can get home safely." Dave patted Rich's back.

"Would you like us to help you take Smitty to your car and lock up the warehouse or not?" Nina asked.

"It's all good, you guys have got places to be, and the work day is over, I can lock up." Rich looked towards the three smiling.

"If you say so," Scott nods.

They all go out the door. Nina backs up just outside the door. "If you need help, I'll be right over at the cafe, just give me a shout." Nina smiles gently.

"Thank you, Nina," Rich appreciatively nods as Nina leaves.

"Smitty...Smitty?" Rich lightly shakes Smitty's shoulder.

"Mmm," Smitty stirs.

"Smitty, you're going to have to wake up so I can take you home."

"Why?"

"We have to lock up the Warehouse."

"Aren't I home?"

"No, Smit, you're at work, home, not home home."

Rich helps Smitty to his weary feet and slings an arm around Smitty, stabilizing him to help him stay upright. They both gathered their things, locked up the Warehouse, and then made their way to Rich's car. Rich helped Smitty into the front seat, putting his seatbelt on for him. Rich got into the driver's seat and drove to Smitty's place.

Smitty's home was the furthest out of all the movers. He lived in an apartment on the 8th floor, more specifically number 29 in a four per floor 10-story building. The building was a bit outdated, with wall-climbing plants covering the majority of the front side of the building. All of the apartments had little plant box-like window seals. Smitty's had violets currently growing and flowering beautifully.

It was a challenge to get all the way to the 8th floor by stairs without Smitty losing his balance on the steps (the building has no elevator), but it was a challenge that Rich was happy to take. Once they made it, Rich unlocked the door and guided Smitty inside.

"Nice place you've got here, Smit." Rich looked around.

Smitty's apartment had a couch that was also a fold-out bed, a TV, a standing lamp, plants, carved wooden animals in the main lounge room one side and the other side, a kitchen. In the two separate rooms were a bathroom and a bedroom.

They walk to Smitty's bedroom, and Smitty gets changed into pajamas and settles into bed.

"You all good, Smitty?" Rich kindly asked.

"Yeah, only tired."

"I bet. Had a day, huh?"

"Oh, it was a day alright," Smitty chuckled as he mumbled.

"If everything's in order, I should leave you to it and I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend and st-" Rich gets cut off by a hand on his arm.

"Stay?"

"Why?"

"I don't want to be alone. I don't feel the best."

Rich pondered for a moment, "I'll stay. You're lucky you're so cute." Rich ruffled Smitty's hair affectionately, smiling at him and chuckling. "I know, how about a sleepover, huh?" Rich suggested.

Smitty sleepily nodded.

"I'll be back in a bit, okay?" Rich

"Yep." Smitty was so out of it that it was quite funny. Rich chuckled lightly and left the apartment.

Rich went home to collect a few things for a sleepover, and when he returned, Smitty was passed out, breathing gently.

Rich slipped into bed next to him and stared at the ceiling. A smile crept onto his face. He eventually drifted off to sleep.

Smitty and Rich then spent the entire weekend together.

"Y'know you don't have to hang out with me the whole weekend," Smitty spoke up as he placed a puzzle piece in the right spot.

"But I want to." Rich looked up from the puzzle. "I'll admit it's better than being alone." He lost eye contact.

"I get it." Smitty put a hand on Rich's.

Rich met his eyes and smiled.

"Hot chocolate?" Smitty asked.

"Oh yeah!" Rich's eyes lit up.

"I've got marshmallows too...the mini ones," Smitty added as they entered the kitchen and showed them to Rich.

"No way! The different coloured ones too?!" Rich did grabby stimmy hands as Smitty handed the packet over. "So cool!"

"I know, right?" Smitty giggled and knocked his knuckles together excitedly at Rich's contagious happiness.

Once they calmed down, they enjoyed their hot chocolates and each other's company.

#imagination movers #my fics

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faegoddessog · 5 months ago

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Day 11: in which she agrees to his discipline

January's DDof AB @dailydoseofaustinbutler

Warnings: Mature Content, 18+, You guessed it- discpline, petting

Peeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney, @1nho, @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3

Austin’s arms close tight around her and thank the goddess, because the kiss he unleashes on her would have dropped her flat.

He backs her the half step to the vintage armless chair. The slightly cold surface is welcome on her suddenly hot skin as he bends over her, laying her back.

Holy shit, he needs a second.This was not at all what he had expected. He straightens up, looking down through half lidded eyes, drinking in the sight of her, lips tingling with the searing quality of her kiss.

He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before, just how unbelievably sexy she was. It’s obvious now with her lying nearly naked in front of him with her hands rubbing against her inner thighs as if to part them further. The look on her face says it all. ‘Fuck me, if you dare.’

She is biting her lip and looking up at him towering over her with his rock hard cock. His nearly contrapposto stance, so natural with his gorgeous frame. He takes a breath, then another as if weighing whether or not this was worth it.

“I mean if you don’t want to…If I’m repulsive or something…” she shrugs, her negative self talk beating him to the potential punch.

“Brat,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought it might be a good moment to garner some consent,” he says pointedly, “besides, does it look like I am repulsed?” He gestures to his dick.

Her eyes travel down his body and it’s like the gesture has given her permission to stare at his cock. He is thick and straight and his tip is starting to turn red. The ridge facing her casts his long, upright shaft half in shadow from the mirror light. It looks delectable. No, he looks delectable.

As if in a trance, her fingers lightly stroke over the soft skin of his shaft without a thought.

He pulls a breath in through his teeth at her touch, breaking her reverie.

Oh, um,” she says, recovering, “yeah I’m down. Sorry, I’m defensive sometimes.”

“Yes, I have noticed,” his smile is disarming, then it slips into something far more salacious. “You know what I think? You need someone to either fuck or spank it out of you. I was just trying to decide which,” he doesn't admit to the fact that he’s been dreaming about this.

“¿Por qué no los dos?” she finds herself saying, almost as a dare.

“Oh honey,” his voice drops low, “you want both?”

Normally, a guy calling her ‘honey’ got her back up, made her, you guessed it, defensive. But there was something in the way he said it with his eyes narrowing predatorily and so casually dominating that made her speechless. Fuck no matter what face he puts on, he is gorgeous. She realizes that she does want it and she wants him to give it to her.

“Well, do you?” he leans over her, running a finger over her leg.

“Uh-huh,” she finally gets out.

“Do you want it right now? Or do we need to take this elsewhere?” This was him giving her an out.

“Now,” she breathes, not wanting to break the spell.

His lips crash into hers.

She tries to pull him close but his hands are propped on the graceful curve at the back of the chair. The pose goes far to establish his dominance over her. She wraps her arms around his slim waist. There are still drops of water in the crevice of his spine. She is surprised they’ve not turned to steam both literally and figuratively.

“Safe word?” the query growls into her ear.

“Red,” she practically moans.

Suddenly she is being manhandled. He pulls her off the chair and flips her over his lap, ass in the air. She can feel his hard cock trapped under her belly.

Her ass over his lap, covered in the flimsiest of dusty pink fabric, is exactly what his subconscious had been hoping for, dreaming about.

“Unless you say it, I’m going to continue until I like the color of your ass,” Crack! He brings down his hand hard on her cheek. She jumps, squealing. Crack! He does a matching one on the other side.

Mel has only played like this once or twice. The sharp, intense stings of his first two strikes makes her wonder if she can go through with it. When he switches to light glancing blows though, she is hooked. They warm her up to a nice glow as he mottles her skin. Little sounds escape her with each smack.

“Listen to you. You like it, don’t you?” he asks. His voice is silken with no trace of shaming.

“Yes,” she blurts out.

“Well then, I'd better check this pussy, little brat,” she would've heard the smile in his voice, but she was too focused on the sheer sex laced into his words.

She never thought she would be here: mostly naked, bent over this man’s lap, ass ringing. In fact, part of her doesn’t believe it until he guides her panties just past the roundness of her scarlett rump. Spreading her legs and tilting up her hips, begging him to touch. The eagerness with which she strains the wisp of lace and elastic wrapped around her thighs is nearly embarrassing.

With gentle hands, he pulls her ass cheeks apart, giving him his first glimpse of her pink little pussy lips. Just the mere sight of them makes his cock jump against her belly. His fingers slip soft against her, petting her up and down gently

She’s never had a man to be so hard in such a gentle way. It makes her clench and groan. Her hips try to grind her pussy into his fingers and her belly quivers against his hard cock. Funny how his self control makes her lose her own.

“I think you need a little more. Let’s see if we can get this honey pot dripping,” he says casually, pulling her panties down and off.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #i love my readers #ddofab #creative challenge

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grande-lando · 2 years ago

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For the a/b/o prompts, #5 for maybe Carlos walking in on Lando nesting when they're still not that close...or mayber the other way around..? 👀

"Oh shit, you're nesting..."

The acrid scent of burnt rubber lingered, the aftermath of a race that had ended far too soon for Lando. The collision with Stroll’s car had been unavoidable, a disastrous twist of fate that sent his McLaren spinning off the tarmac, marking an abrupt end to what should have been his fifth full professional F1 race.

The aftermath was a blur of protocol and flashing cameras. Lando answered the questions thrown at him with mechanical politeness, his responses rehearsed, and PR approved while trying his best to mask his disappointment. The media, ever-thirsty for the rawest emotions, pressed closer with their lenses and queries, trying to pick apart his every reaction.

He held himself together until the obligations were met until he could finally escape into the sanctuary of his driver’s room. Only then did he allow the facade to crack, the strain of the crash and the invasive scrutiny overwhelming his composure.

Driven by a deep-seated need for security and comfort, Lando began to nest. He gathered everything soft he could get his hands on, surrounding himself with a haphazard collection of cushions, throw blankets, and sweatshirts that carried familiar scents.

He lost track of time, tangled up in the soft cushions and harsh thoughts, when the door eventually opened. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Carlos; his scent preceded him, a stable and grounding presence that had unknowingly become a familiarity in Lando’s life, even in the short time they had known each other.

“Oh shit, you’re nesting…” Carlos cursed softly, surprise evident in his tone. He hesitated at the threshold, his uncertainty palpable. His stance was awkward; nesting was deeply personal, an omega’s refuge, yet he was still caught between the impulse to step forward and the restraint of intruding on something so intimate, so inherently private.

Lando should have felt the same, should have bristled at the intrusion, but loneliness was a cold shroud, and Carlos was…Carlos. Without saying a word, feeling like the very act of speaking might shatter him, Lando extended an arm out of his makeshift sanctuary. A silent plea, hanging heavy in the air between them.

For a beat, nothing happened, and Lando’s insides clenched with a new wave of something fragile, teetering on the edge of embarrassment and fear. Then, understanding dawned in Carlos’ eyes, and he let out a breath that sounded like it had been held for ages. He closed the distance between them in three strides, sinking down onto the floor beside Lando’s nest with such care.

The nest wasn’t made for two, but it was okay. Carlos wriggled his way into a semi-comfortable position, somehow managing to wrap himself around Lando without dislodging the precariously perched pillows. Lando tucked himself into Carlos, a choked noise escaping him - half-sob, half-sigh - his face buried into the crook of Carlos’ neck.

They stayed like that, a tangle of limbs and emotions, the earlier chaos of the race fading into a dull roar at the back of Lando’s mind. There were no words of comfort, no placating platitudes. They weren’t necessary. Carlos’ presence was a solid reassurance, a silent promise of ‘I’m here, you’re not alone’ that Lando hadn’t known he’d needed.

In the solace of their awkward embrace, Lando found the edges of his professional mask crumbling, revealing the rawness beneath. And in the safety of the nest, he allowed himself, finally, to just breathe.

#carlando #carlando fanfiction #a/b/o #k writes #karenína answers

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hannahssimblr · 1 year ago

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Chapter Nineteen

It’s hard to tell what time it is because the blinds in my room are drawn, blocking out the intense June sunshine, but Dean’s alarm is going off, so I know it must be midday. He groans and rolls out of bed, padding across the floor and into the hallway where I listen to him open and shut the bathroom door, followed shortly by the hum of the electric shower. I shove the blankets off me, my skin doused with sweat and grope around at the back of my head for my hair tie, still stuck in there somewhere since last night and pulling painfully at the hairs at the nape of my neck. I yank it out and a dozen strands come with it, all knotted together and tangled around the elastic, resembling something recovered from a shower drain. I chuck it onto a pile of clothes on the floor and climb out of bed.

It’s reached the point now where I’ve stopped shocking myself at my own appearance in the mornings. After being out so late and collapsing into bed at the same time that the sun rises, how good can one really expect to look? I take a baby wipe from my makeup bag and start calmly wiping the makeup off my face, then I get my brush and rake it through my hair until it falls the way it should, limply flanking my face, paler than ever now, even though summer has finally arrived, but I haven’t been outside too much during the day. I flip my hair over my shoulder to examine the two yellowing bruises on my neck, mouth-sized, courtesy of Dean, and decide they’re still obvious enough to cover, so I start dabbing them with foundation.

I’m doing the rest of my face when he comes back, towel around his waist. I glance at him in the mirror. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Not that great.”

“Oh right.”

He starts digging around in the piles of clothes for something of his, and I try to ignore the wholly bitter energy he exudes as he does it, and just wait for him to say something. “Can you do the laundry today?”

“Yeah if I have time.”

“Okay, it’d be good because this room is driving me mad. You’re so messy.”

“Yeah I know, I’ve always been like this.”

He locates a pair of trousers and yesterday’s T-shirt and starts dressing himself, checking the way he looks in the same mirror that I’m using, yanking the hem of the T-shirt and shoving his hands into his pockets to turn them right side in. He makes eye contact with me, inspecting my face just thinking about the next thing he’s going to say to me, and I wait for it. “One day you’re probably going to have a husband, and he’s probably going to buy you a house, and when you leave clothes all over the floor like that, he’s gonna feel like you’re ungrateful.”

Is that a joke? I can’t tell. “Yeah, cool, okay.” He’s always at his worst the morning after he’s been out. It’s the comedown. He doesn’t actually mean it so I just try to let it roll off me, hoping that his more pleasant mood comes on later on, or tomorrow in a worst case scenario.

“What are you doing today?” I query, keeping my tone light as I start to plait one side of my hair.

“Going out.”

“When, tonight or this afternoon?”

“In a minute, yeah.”

“Cool. Doing anything fun?”

“I dunno, just meeting some friends I think.” He sniffs. “Are you around later? Can I stay over tonight?”

“I’m actually not. I’m going to my friend’s gaff in Ranelagh. I might end up crashing there after, if it runs late.”

“Oh right.”

“Sorry, I know it’s handy for you to stay here.”

“It’s grand, I can just get a taxi back to Kilbarrack or whatever. What friend is it?”

“You don’t know her. Jen.”

“Right.”

“And our other friend too, Jude. He’s back visiting from Germany.” I look into his face to see how interested he is in hearing about this, and determine not in the slightest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, right?” He says.

“Yeah. I’ll text you at some stage.”

“Cool.”

He grabs his wallet and his phone from my bedside table, almost tripping on another heaping pile of my discarded clothes and swearing under his breath as he does it, and once again, I wait for him to say something, but he seems to decide against it this time. Perhaps he feels the message is clear enough. He gives a quick goodbye, and I murmur one in response as I give up on my plait, my fingers too shaky to create it, and undo it with my fingers as he thunders down the stairs and out the door.

There’s rain in the early evening, but I don’t regret my choice to walk to Jen’s house as soon as the first fat drop of rain darkens the concrete pavement in front of me, because the smell of petrichor mixed with the sweet summer air reminds me of a different place and time. Rain splashes gently into the canal as I cross over the little Leeson street bridge, creating a mini symphony with the gushing water pouring from the locks.

Her flat is one of two in a house that looks too small to contain them both, but it’s cute, flowers in the windows beneath her makeshift rainbow flag curtain. Red brick and black slate under the iron sky. I only have to knock on the door twice before it swings open, and there he is once again.

“Jude!”

“Hey Evie.” He pulls me inside out of the rain to hug me, all warm skin and washed cotton, and the smile that breaks through on my face feels like the first real one I’ve had in a while. “Welcome home again.” I say to him, “I hope you had a good flight.”

“No Ryanair flight is a good flight when you have normal sized legs.” He says. “Come in out of the rain, we’re making guacamole in the kitchen.”

“Wow you’re really going all out.”

“It’s a big moment, having Evie Kilbride join us for one of our movie nights.” He pushes open the door to the kitchen where Jen is slicing a lime in half, swaying to the music coming out of a little old radio on the counter. She drops her knife onto the chopping board when she sees me, crossing the room to pull me into a hug.

“My God, you’re a bit wet aren’t you?” She says as she holds me at arm’s length. “I didn’t even hear the rain.”

“Just a shower.” I say. “I just got a bit unlucky.”

“Well, if it’s down for the night then I suppose it’s good that all we’ve planned is a few films. C’mere, sit down.” She beckons me over to the couch in an adjoining room, a chunky old piece that’s been spruced up with the addition of a few colourful throw cushions and a big crochet blanket, and then Jude comes over with two bottles of Corona and a tea towel for my hair.

I thank him as he sits next to me, and instantly, against my will, my body starts prickling with awareness. I get this feeling whenever he’s around that he’s not actually a real person, like I’ll blink and he’ll be gone, like when somebody you think you know walks past you on the street, only when you look again around it’s just a person with the same jacket.

“How are you?” I say, feeling a little bit shy all of a sudden.

“I’m well.” He says, a smile twitching the corners of his lips like there’s something funny that I don’t know yet. He always kind of looks like that. “How did your final assignments turn out?”

“Yeah, good. I lost some sleep over them, but in the end I got everything handed in on time and, well, like, I passed everything so I’m happy.”

“Nice! So what now? Are you staying in Dublin for the summer or do you think you’ll head back home?”

“Oh, I’ll stay here for sure. Offaly is so boring, and there’s stuff here I want to do, so.” I take the bottle opener off the arm of the couch and yank open my beer. The cap goes skittering across the floor and he leans down to capture it before it lands under the TV console.

“Yeah?” He says, flicking it up into the air and catching it again. “Like what stuff?”

“Oh, I dunno, just, like, my friends are here, there’s a few parties happening and all that. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Well I’ll be back and forth from Berlin a few more times over the summer, so it’d be really nice if you were around the city to meet up.”

“Yeah, absolutely! I’d really like that.”

Jen comes over with a bowl of crisps and her homemade guacamole and lays them onto the table in front of us. We thank her enthusiastically and then Jude and I start battling for it. We’re a perilous combo, me, who has been living off two meals a day lately, (as a result of continuously sleeping through breakfast) and him, the boy who’s forever snacking. Jen quickly bats our hands away. “Oi! Leave some for me you savages, I only bought three bags of crisps in Dunnes.” With a handful of them, she turns around and starts aggressively nudging Jude’s knees with hers. “And you better move, let’s not forget whose bloody couch this is.”

Jude obligingly offers her his seat. It’s a small couch after all, with only space for two, and he takes one of the throw cushions with him so he can plonk it onto the floor in front of her.

“Not there either.” She insists. “I’m not spending an entire evening with your vertebrae digging into my legs.”

“Oh come on Jenny.” He moans, and tries to lean against her anyway, but she pushes his head gently away from her. “I’m serious!”

Giggling with a mouthful of crisps and guacamole I pat the space between us with my foot. “God, you’re so annoying, just sit in the middle.”

“Everything he does, he does to purposely piss me off, I’m just glad someone else is here to witness it.” Jen says with an eye roll and lifts the remote from the table and Jude readjusts himself to sit between us, his arm resting incidentally against my bare leg, and I bask in my secret relief, knowing I shaved them. But I feel guilty for even thinking about that, as though I don’t have Dean, as though he doesn’t have Astrid and he’d even care about my legs if he didn’t. This new thought wipes the smile from my face and I sit back in silence as the other two continue their bickering session beside me.

“I’m limiting your access to the crisps.” Jen is saying now. “And your access to the remote.”

“Yeah yeah, and my access to the couch, what next?”

“I’ve done the right thing by keeping you off this couch, for Evie’s sake. It’s not safe for you two to be next to each other once I turn these lights out.” She grins at her own joke, and then I watch as her smile falters and drops completely from her face as a short, but incredibly awkward silence follows. I can’t see Jude’s face because he’s looking at her, but I don’t particularly want to either, I don’t want to have the knowledge of whatever emotion it portrays, be it amusement, surprise or disgust. I can feel my own face turning red and as usual start wishing that I was somewhere else.

She clears her throat. “Um, well, anyway, what was the first movie we decided on anyway? I can’t remember. Donnie Darko, was it?”

“I think I said Mulholland Drive.” Jude reminds her. “But if you wanna go for Donnie first then we can.” “Yeah.” She says. “Whichever.” And switches out the light so that we all have to stop trying to read each other’s faces.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 2 #sims 4 story #simlit #tw: sex mention #tw: drugs #tw: alcohol

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matthewzkrause · 8 hours ago

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From Python to Something New: A Data Scientist's Perspective.

I still love Python. I just don’t want to be limited by it.

There, I said it.

For years, Python was my ride-or-die. I built models with it. I cleaned horrendous datasets with it. I survived Jupyter notebooks crashing at the worst possible moments because of it. Python was more than a language — it was home.

But lately, I’ve felt something I didn’t expect: restless.

🐍 Python Isn’t Broken. I Just Grew. Let’s get this out of the way: I’m not quitting Python. I’m not throwing shade.

This is more like when you realize your favorite pair of sneakers, the ones that carried you through college and your first job and your second caffeine-fueled promotion… don’t quite fit the way they used to.

Because suddenly, my questions started to change:

What if this notebook was a real app?

Why is this ETL job taking so long?

Could this model live closer to the data?

What if I didn’t use Pandas again?

And that’s when I realized — Python had been perfect for the version of me that was. But maybe not the one I’m becoming.

💡 The World of Data Is Changing — Fast Data science used to feel like magic. Now it feels like product. We’re shipping apps. Running in production. Automating. Building tools people actually use.

In this new world, I’m seeing a shift:

Less “write every line by hand.”

More “connect systems, design flows, ship results.”

Less “Which library solves this?”

More “Which tool gets it done better, faster, smarter?”

And not everything fits neatly into Python anymore.

🚀 What I’m Exploring (and Loving) I’m not trading Python in — I’m adding to the toolbox. Here’s what’s lighting me up lately:

🔸 DuckDB & SQL: Turns out, a lot of “data science” is just “really smart queries.” DuckDB makes working with data feel instant. No servers. No setup. Just results.

🔸 Polars (and the Rust underneath): Imagine Pandas, but built for the 2025 version of you. Faster, lighter, and… well, it doesn’t crash on large data. That’s a win.

🔸 Streamlit & friends: I stopped handing people static notebooks. Now I build tiny apps in 10 minutes. Turns out, when non-tech folks can click buttons and explore their own data, they get it.

🔸 Mojo, Julia, Rust: Not full-time yet. But I’ve dipped my toes. And the ideas? They're powerful. These languages aren’t just hype — they’re glimpses of where we’re headed.

🧠 The Real Shift: Curiosity Over Comfort Honestly, the biggest upgrade hasn’t been technical — it’s been mental.

Somewhere along the way, I realized:

The moment you stop learning in this field is the moment you start falling behind.

Python got me here. But “here” isn’t the final stop.

I want to be the kind of data scientist who keeps playing. Who tries new things even when they’re uncomfortable. Who says, “I don’t know this yet,” and means it with excitement.

And maybe… that’s what this whole journey is about anyway.

💬 What About You? If you're reading this and thinking:

“I’ve been meaning to try DuckDB…”

“I wish my notebooks felt faster and cleaner.”

“Everyone's talking about Mojo and I have no clue what it does…”

Then hey: you’re not alone. The smartest people I know are quietly tinkering behind the scenes. No pressure. No rush. Just curiosity over comfort.

We’re all just trying to evolve with the craft.

TL;DR: Python Was the Beginning, Not the Limit You don’t have to quit Python to grow. You just have to let yourself be curious again.

So go try something new. You might come back to Python with fresh eyes — or you might discover your next big tool, your next wild idea, your next version of yourself.

Either way, it’s worth the click.

#python programming #data science

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fandom-space-princess · 10 months ago

Text

An Audacious Undertaking, Even to God

Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries

Rating: Gen

Relationships: SecUnit 1 & SecUnit 2 & SecUnit 3

Additional tags: Book 5: Network Effect, Book 7: System Collapse, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Queerplatonic Relationships, 1 & 2 do still die but not for very long, 3 needs its friends back :( , studies in construct relations

Chapter: 2/?

Read chapter below, or on AO3.

——————————

When I regain awareness, I am flat on my back. I cannot see anything, and my drone feeds are a scrambled mess. Auditory sensors are online, but only partially. I am surrounded by humans. My internal clock informs me 37 seconds have passed.

“—did it drop like that?”

“It didn’t want us near that body. Was that why it—?”

“—referred—equipment maintenance. Is it—”

Visual input comes back online. I open my eyes. The humans have moved me out of the shuttle and onto the floor of the module dock. Someone has removed my helmet and armor chestplate. Ratthi crouches next to me, aiming a handheld emergency medical scanner at my sternum.

Motor control returns, although not gracefully. Ignoring the surprised protestations of the humans, I attempt to push myself upright and re-enter the shuttle. I make it as far as propping myself up onto one elbow, and then the transport is back in my feed.

Perihelion: Remain still. Resuming the process you were trying to run will almost certainly cause you to crash again, and may cause more permanent damage to your systems and/or files.

Over Ratthi’s shoulder, I can see medical drones in gurney configuration moving around inside the main body of the shuttle, examining the clients and preparing them to be moved to medical quarantine. I feel a surge of relief. It lasts 0.08 seconds. Then one of the gurneys emerges from the piloting compartment, draws to a halt nearby, and goes into standby mode.

It is difficult to look directly at this body. It has never been difficult to look directly at this body before.

Wait. Permanent damage to my—

—my onboard storage is still accessible. My frantic querying produces the files I expect, exactly where they should be. I examine them and they appear intact, uncorrupted. My performance reliability jumps up 3%.

Perihelion, in the public channel: It has lost too much of its core structure. That’s not going to work.

Arada: “What isn’t going to work? Perihelion?”

Structure can be replaced. Assuming the integrity of our captured data, assuming sufficiently small discrepancies between stored memory and physical neural configuration, we are infinitely repairable.

(Almost. Almost infinitely repairable.)

(The gurney still waits nearby, with the body. I still cannot look at it.)

(My performance reliability loses the 3% it had just gained.)

Amena, looking directly at me: “I’m sorry for asking, this seems really personal to you, but what were you trying to do just now? When you crashed?”

The transport’s voice in the feed holds an undercurrent of something I cannot identify that might be curiosity, but far more pointed. It was attempting to reboot the deceased SecUnit from a recent backup, located in its local storage. Its logs show that it has attempted this several hundred times over the previous day cycle.

Amena: “Oh.” She is still looking directly at me. Her expression has become soft, her teeth rolling one corner of her lower lip. I don’t know what my own face is doing. I’m not sure I want to know. “You knew it, then. I mean. Of course you did, I… I’m sorry.”

Ratthi, dubiously: “Would that even work?”

Perihelion: That is not a trivial question.

Knew it. I knew it. I consider the past tense. The hinge in my jaw grinds.

I can enumerate in single digits the number of times I have heard 001’s voice aloud, but that is profoundly more so than any other being can lay claim to, besides perhaps 002. 002… 002 speaks even more rarely—it prefers to communicate in images and feed impressions—but I know the shape, the texture of its input when it feels joy, or anger, or regret. The first attempt at shared humor I ever encountered was crafted by 001, slipped into a mission debrief it had authored. It still does this—still tries to share itself with us in this way—whenever it thinks it can do so without incurring punishment. I have that file committed to permanent storage, indexed beside the first image 001 shared with me: a visual of the ready room aboard the ship on which we were originally deployed.

Their personalities, their memories, all of their data (accurate to 86.4 hours ago)—this is contained within me, as what comprises me is contained within them. Was contained. Is.

Nothing of what I know of them exists in the past tense.

The transport continues: What it was trying to accomplish is theoretically possible, but only if this platform were able to be repaired to baseline functionality first. You cannot simply load the backup on a different platform—a construct is its organic components as much as its inorganic ones. The process is nonviable without, at minimum, intact neural tissue.

The humans do not turn to look at the gurney, which seems deliberate. There is an uneasy pause.

Arada: “All right. Well. Its neural tissue is… not intact.”

Perihelion: Correct.

Ratthi, who has been studying my vital signs on the scanner, looks at my face. Then he says, “It might be a good idea to take a few minutes and get everyone to medical before we discuss this any further.”

Amena’s hand drifts toward mine in an abortive half-gesture, like she wanted to touch me and then thought better of it partway through. “This must be a lot for you to take in. But we want to help you if we can. Do you have a name? What would you like us to call you?”

I turn one of my drones toward the body on the gurney, and make myself look at it. “You could call me Three.”

She nods. “Okay. Thank you, Three.” To Arada: “What do we do now?”

She has offered to help me. I do not know what intentions, if any, that offer implies. And she has asked me what I want, which is the second time in a very short span that someone has done so, and also the second time ever.

“Please wait,” I tell them. “I have a message from Murderbot 2.0, priority designation: urgent, for someone onboard called ART.”

——————————

[Before]

SecUnit-001: Alert, priority designation: URGENT. Incursion attempt ongoing, advising immediate resource deployment to primary airlock. Unknown assailants. Tactical team operatives status: compromised, assume hostile. Tactical team unit 002 status: unknown.

SecSystem: System acknowledge. Threat assessment: URGENT. Sentinel unit 003 immediate redirect to primary airlock.

SecUnit-003: Unit acknowledge.

In the 18.7 seconds it takes 001 to slam back through the primary airlock from the space dock and force it through its emergency cycle-and-seal procedure, I make it up the three levels from aft engineering, where I had been patrolling. I cannot make top speed through the ship, as HubSystem has automatically sealed every interior hatch in response to the incursion alert, and SecSystem can only open them for me one at a time as I run. This protocol exists to protect the human and augmented human clients aboard in the event of a hull breach. It should not have triggered in this situation. But something has gone wrong with HubSystem, or is currently going wrong, and the feed from the explorer’s bot pilot has dissolved into error codes.

SecSystem: Hail protocol[SecUnit-002]. Respond.

SecSystem is desperately trying to raise 002 on its broad-spectrum comms, without success. This means that either 002’s communications channels have been badly disrupted, or the explorer’s have. Either prospect is foreboding. 002’s last check-in had occurred immediately prior to its departure with the ground team in the drop box, while 001 had remained stationed in the cargo loading foyer at the top of the space dock. Is 002 still down on the surface, with some portion of the ground team?

As I reach the main habitation deck, additional alerts blare through the feed. I hear the banging of metal on metal, and gunfire. A distinctive noise—a volley of 001’s onboard projectile weapons discharge, and the sizzle of energy weapon fire in return. The intruders have made it aboard.

SecSystem: Main lock breach. SecUnit-001 adopt secondary defensive posture.

SecUnit-001: Affirmed and acknowledge. Seal main lock foyer. Engaging hostiles.

SecSystem: System acknowledge. SecUnit-003 fallback to tertiary defensive posture.

SecUnit-003: Request command belay. Tactical assessment: advise secondary defensive adjunct.

I have arrived at the final hatch. On the other side of it, I can hear heavy fire, human voices, shouting. From this side of it, I am unable to help repel the invaders. I am unable to help any of the ground team that may be attempting to return to the ship. I am unable to help 001. I do not want to fall back to the bridge. I am here now, and I want to help.

But SecSystem is adamant.

SecSystem: Negative. Reiterate fallback to tertiary defensive posture. Protect bridge crew. Unit acknowledge.

SecUnit-003: …

Galvanic shocks shoot down my spinal column, radiate out to my shoulder joints. I do not know whether SecSystem has deliberately engaged the governor module’s punitive function, or whether it is simply a result of the sustained attack on our systems, a coincidence of timing.

SecSystem: Unit acknowledge.

There is a reverberant boom from the lock foyer. The hatch shudders, then begins to retract. Smoke pours out from beneath it.

SecSystem: SecUnit-001 status: OFFLINE.

SecUnit-003: …

SecUnit-003: Unit acknowledge.

——————————

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #tmbd #secunit three #secunit 1 & secunit 2 & secunit 3 #fanfic

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carlyraejepsans · 2 years ago

Text

Setting up AO3 Enhancements on a mobile browser

Hey there! Do you:

read fic primarily on your phone?

feel tired of having to punch in a lot of filter tags every time you browse for fics?

have an android device?

then I might be able to help you make fandom a cozier place! (and hopefully nip future drama in the bud, lol)

With this post, I'm gonna guide you through the process of installing the AO3 Enhancements browser extension, normally only available on desktop, on your mobile device. It works a charm, and I've been using it for months, and it's made the Undertale tag navigable again despite my utter disinterest in AU content.

Here's an archived version of the full post in case my dumbass accidentally deletes it for some reason

Let's get started!

UPDATE: For IOS users! You can download the browser app "Orion" which allows firefox extensions! No need to do this procedure, just install it and download the extension as you normally would from Firefox Add-ons

1) Download Firefox Nightly.

For those who are hearing of it for the first time, Firefox Nightly is a separate Firefox browser made specifically for developers. The name itself is due to the fact that it's patched and updated on a daily (er, nightly) basis. This makes it more prone to crashing and issues than the standard Firefox app, but I've switched over to nightly as my main browser months ago now, and if I ever encounter a problem, I just... download the latest update and I'm good to go.

What's crucial about Nightly, however, is that it gives the user access to various additional features. One of them being desktop extensions on mobile, which is what we're here for.

Here's the Google Play link.

2) Make a Firefox Account

This will be necessary to install the extension later

Once you've done that, go to the Firefox add-ons website and log into your account in the upper right (where it says "Biscia" in the screenshot below). Click on "View My Collections"

3) Making an add-on collection

Since browser extensions are technically blocked from being directly installed by the browser, Nightly offers a workaround.

Create a collection, and give it a name without spaces to avoid errors.

4) Adding the extension

Here is the link to ao3 enhancements (if it's not showing up, try reloading the page in desktop mode). Scroll down until you see the option "Add to a collection" and select the one you just created.

You can do it with any extension! Go nuts. There's lots of good stuff out there. Just remember that it's not guaranteed every one of them will work, since they aren't intended to be used on a mobile device.

5) Activating debug mode.

In your browser, tap the little sandwich menu in the bottom right, scroll down and click Settings. It should be under "Save to Collection".

Scroll down even more until you reach the "About" section, and click on "About Firefox Nightly"

Click on the firefox logo 5 times, and it should be done.

6) Activating your add-ons

Go to "View my profile" as seen in the screenshot in step 2. At the end of the link, there should be a string of numbers. Copy it.

After this, go back to the browser settings again, scroll down until you reach the add ons section and click on "custom add on collection". Paste the numbers you copied from your profile where it says "User ID", and the name of your collection EXACTLY as it appears in the link, where it says "Collection name". Mind, it's case sensitive.

Press okay, and it should kick you out of the app. Open it again and, going in add-ons then add-ons manager, you should be able to add your extension.

ATTENTION!! If you get the error message "failed to query add-ons" you either inputted the wrong user id or the wrong collection name

To avoid this type of issue, don't name your collection something that has spaces or punctuation in it, as it might mess with the link formatting.

7) Setting up your AO3 enhancements filters

If everything's worked out fine, you should be able to visit ao3 and see a new drop-down window.

Click on it, click on option, and it should open up a new window with all the settings available! Tweak them to your heart's content. Though mind, the background tag wrangling done by the ao3 volunteers doesn't work with this extension, so the extension is going to hide only the works tagged EXACTLY what you filtered. Character for character. This makes things a bit tricky when people aren't consistent with their tagging, but if it proves to be enough of a problem, you can just filter out the author name in full and be done with it.

You can choose to hide the fic behind a "show" button, or make it not show up at all. If you choose the latter option, and you blocked a tag that has lots of fics, it might look like certain pages of searches are almost empty, since all the fics were hidden.

And that's it! I sincerely hope this helps people avoid their triggers and other topics that make them uncomfortable. No more excuses fellas. You find a tag you haven't filtered yet? You add it to the list and move on. Easy peasy.

Hope I haven't missed anything. Let me know if you need any help!

#undertale #ao3 #fandom #underfic #technically #deltarune

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allisonslover · 2 years ago

Text

chapter two: the dead parent club!

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: language, slight references to nightmares and a car crash but nothing too graphic

It was late in the night, an alarmed Max after bursting into his cousin's room to see if they had both heard the ear-splitting noise from outside. They could rule Melissa out as the culprit, the nurse after leaving for a late night shift not too long ago.

That was what led the pair to creep into Jade's room, grimacing as she stirred, the light from the hallway shining into her room. They were most definitely going to have a riot on their hands in the morning, the girl always being moody until she got a coffee in her at the best of times. They were already mentally preparing for the scolding they were about to get for waking her up but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Max and Scott squabbled silently, both backing away from the bed as they fought over who would wake her. Max smiled triumphantly, tilting his head after shoving his cousin ahead of him. If someone was going to be beaten with a pillow, it wasn't going to be him. He had learnt that lesson too many times to make the same mistake.

Jade woke with a jolt, scream muffled by her pillow as she screwed her body in on itself, trying to make a shield to protect her from the splinters of glass that were flying through the car.

"Calm down, it's just me!" Scott whispered gently, flicking on the lamp on her bedside table in hopes of bringing her back to her senses. To be fair, that was their fault; they should have known not to wake her so suddenly, especially when she was suffering from nightmares so frequently.

"Sorry," Max muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously as he flopped onto the bottom of the bed, getting a light kick as he sat on her feet. Yeah, thinking back on it, it wasn’t a great idea.

"What the hell is wrong with you two? What time is it?" she asked groggily, burying her head back into her pillow as her heart rate eventually slowed to a normal place. God, what was it with people sneaking up on her? It seemed to happen too often, making her on edge even when she was asleep. It was like the twins couldn't catch a break recently. Well, they could never really catch a break to begin with, it was just getting worse lately.

"It's only twelve," Scott shrugged nonchalantly as if he was usually up at this time on the first day back to school. He had tried to get to sleep, honestly he had, but the nerves and excitement made him restless, no matter how many meditation podcasts he listened to (and trust him, he had listened to a lot of those, even the ones with white noise, brown noise, pink noise, the whole shebang).

"You better have a good reason for waking me up at this godforsaken hour, or I swear, I’m gonna crack up," she hissed furiously, voice muffled from her face still being delved into the pillow. She refused to move from the warmth and comfort of her bed until she was given an explanation she deemed compulsory, although she could gradually feel the sleep start to slip from her body.

"I think there's someone outside, we heard a bang," Scott rambled, eyes widening for emphasis. If she could hurry up and come with them before an intruder broke in, stabbing them all in the process, it would be a great help. "We want you to come with us."

"Remind me, how does this affect me again?" she queried, recoiling away from the bright flashlight that was being shone directly in her eyes. She was seriously going to kick them down the stairs one of these days. The four walls of her jail cell would finally give her some peace. Hey, she might even be able to get some sleep!

"Because it could be a murderer. And if I died you would miss me so much because I'm your favourite cousin," Scott argued his point, nodding along, giving Max a high-five behind his back when she sat up.

His short speech seemed to have worked, the girl begrudgingly forcing herself to her feet, slipping on a pair of trainers, glaring daggers over her shoulder all the same. The string of curse words she muttered under her breath showed she wasn't happy, yet she was coming with them, which was the main thing. "Scott, you're my only cousin," she sighed, throwing on a flannel shirt over her pyjamas. It was destined to be cold outside; spring in California was never the warmest.

Max shared a short-lived glance with his sister as she passed, discreetly nodding as he followed the pair out onto the landing. He wouldn't have woken her up unless he was genuinely worried that someone was outside.

"That's why you'd miss me the most, right, Max?" Scott slammed the door closed behind him. God, the twins wondered if sometimes he momentarily forgot that he had neighbours. What they were more surprised about was that the McCalls hadn't gotten a noise complaint yet. Hey, there was still plenty of time left for that.

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," he rolled his eyes playfully, cracking his knuckles anxiously. He could already tell that Scott was about to quip back a sarcastic joke, their teasing cut short when another crash sounded from outside— this time a lot closer than the last.

The teenagers' eyes shifted nervously between the three of them, wondering who was going to be the sacrifice if it came down to it. Logically, it would have been Jade, considering she was the slowest when it came to running. Although, if she pushed one of the others back— every man for themselves and all that jazz—, she would probably have a higher chance of getting out alive.

Scott motioned for the others to follow him down the stairs, running a hand down the banister to maintain his balance. Jade shoved her phone into her jacket pocket, after grabbing it off her nightstand. She had seen too many horror movies to leave it behind; that was a rookie mistake that the characters made. What if they got kidnapped and needed to send someone their location? Okay, they would kinda be fucked, considering Melissa was the only other phone number that she had from this stupid town. Although she loved her aunt dearly, god the woman didn't have a clue how to use technology.

"Are you seriously going towards the noise?” Max hissed, mouth agape as he waved his hands about. See, this was a prime example of why he was going to start forcing Scott to watch horror movies. Whenever someone went to investigate, they always died, and that was a fact. In his opinion, he'd much rather hide under the covers and pretend he'd never heard anything until it went away. It seemed like the safer option— the less stupider one, anyway.

Scott shushed his cousin, tightening his hold on the wooden banister. He had to know what— or who— was outside, otherwise he had no chance of getting to sleep tonight. Grabbing the baseball bat that he kept beside his back door, he raised it up as if prepared for battle. He knew it wasn’t a weapon that would do the most damage, but a quick swing to the face or the groin and they’d go down like a sack of potatoes.

Jade held her hand out slightly beside her, ignoring the look that she received from her brother. It was merely an instinct by now, magic being a part of her since she was born. Even though her powers weren't working how she wanted right now, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try to help. Besides, it was only a backup plan, in case they really were being attacked. If all came to all, she could just fire as many spells as she could and hope for the best. It would be hard to explain that away, but it was the best plan she had right now.

The McCall boy and Pierce twins stampeded onto the patio, screaming as something fell from the oak tree that resided just outside of the patio, swinging in front of them. Hanging upside down from the tree was the one and only Stiles Stilinski.

Max and Jade hadn't seen him in roughly a year, the same amount of time they hadn't seen Scott in. After arriving at Beacon Hills, there hadn't been a lot of spare time to visit friends they hadn't seen in a while. There were more important things to do, such as planning a funeral for two thirty-four-year-olds.

Stiles had changed a lot, one of the only noticeable consistency’s being his terrible sense of fashion (which wasn't that big of a shocker.) Since his mom had died, he had kept his hair at a short-ish length because she adored it like that, but now he had a buzzcut, something that took it to a whole new level of commitment.

"What the hell are you doing!" Scott screamed at his best friend, firing the baseball bat to the ground in a temper. Thank the heavens his mom was at work or they would have been grounded before the spring semester had even begun.

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles shouted back, voice cracking halfway through his sentence. It took a second for it to register that there were other people with Scott, eyes finding the twins, who were awkwardly standing by the back door. "I completely forgot you were here, sorry!" he was fighting a losing battle by trying to untie himself from the tree, after getting his leg caught in a rope of some kind,. "Jade! Max! Long time no see, how have you been!"

He fell with a painful grunt, landing flat on his back like a starfish. Jade covered her mouth, pressing her lips together in an attempt not to laugh, while Max winced and held his back in pain. Apparently, he had an empath connection with Stiles, which was just his luck, considering the hyperactive boy was a walking ambulance.

Stiles continued to ramble on excitedly, brushing the leaves off his jacket. "I'm fine, totally didn't hurt, not at all. That was a stupid question, sorry, you’re obviously not gonna be fine. Hey, at least you're both members of the dead parent club now!"

They'd forgotten the boy had no filter and was as blunt as a pencil, but they knew he meant no harm. Scott kicked him in the shin, trying to communicate with his eyes that were dangerously dark.

Stiles hissed away from his best friend in pain, confused as to why he had gotten brutally attacked before realisation finally dawned. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, trying to take back what he had just said. It hadn't been done out of spite, he just sometimes started talking and didn't know how to stop the words from spewing out. "Oh my god, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"It's okay. What are you doing here, anyway? It's really early in the morning," Jade pointed out, laughing lightly in an attempt to diffuse the tension that was strangling her like a blanket. There was a knife that seemed to be reserved for especially slicing through their hearts every time someone brought up Sean and Elizabeth.

"Oh, yeah! We need to go to the woods," Stiles tried to stay on topic for what he had originally drove over for, ignoring the bump in the road as his voice filled with excitement, eyes lighting up with devilment— something they had learnt was never a good sign, as it usually ended with them sitting in the sheriffs station.

"Why?" Max questioned sceptically, not wanting to be dragged into a dark forest the night before school. Their eyes met, a blush dusting both their faces. Jade and Scott both had razor-sharp eyes when it came to romantic gestures, not missing the small movement even in the darkness. They knowingly glanced at each other, taunting smiles tugging at their lips.

When they were younger, Stiles and Max had a thing for each other, and both Jade and Scott knew it. In fact, pretty much everyone knew it. Thinking back on it, she was ninety-nine percent sure she had heard Melissa and Noah betting on the kids love lives. Scott used to always tease Stiles over it— he still did, even to this day. Jade used to tease her brother, until one day he said he'd had a seer vision of her falling into a ditch and he was going to let the monster drown her. It had soon shut her up and kept her quiet from mentioning it again— until now. In her defence, she had only been nine!

"Ditch," Max whispered, lips barely moving as he hissed the singular word to his sister, who merely snickered.

"There's a body in the woods," Stiles averted his eyes from the boy's as he rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet.

"A dead body?" Scott scoffed, confused about what was so special. Stiles’ father was the sheriff— they saw dead bodies all the time. Besides, if he wanted to see a dead body so desperately, he could pay a visit to the hospital morgue.

"No, a body of water. Yes, a dead body!" Stiles spat impatiently, already itching to get going. It was good to see that he hadn't lost his signature personality trait— sarcasm.

"Seriously? Screw this, I'm going back to bed," Jade groaned, head already starting to pulse with pain, a sign that a migraine was surfacing. This was too much thinking, too early in the morning.

"I'm getting to that, hold your horses. They only found half of the body," Stiles paused for dramatic effect, nodding reassuringly when their eyes widened in disbelief. They didn't know what on earth they had been expecting, it most definitely hadn't been that.

Max caved, hands on hips as he rushed forward to the baby blue jeep, Stiles following close behind him. "I'm in. This, I wanna see. Dibs on passenger seat!"

Sighing, Jade ran a hand through her hair, turning to her cousin tiredly. "We better make sure they don't get themselves killed."

"Yup," he chuckled, kicking a stray stone out of his path. "You trying out for the lacrosse team in school?"

During the summer, when the Pierces used to visit the McCalls, Scott and Jade used to love playing lacrosse together. Max, on the other hand, stood on the side, on his iPad or phone and screamed when a ball came within an inch of hitting him.

"I think I might, but I don't have any equipment or a kit," Jade trailed off, the two cousins' steps falling in line as they walked down the pebbly driveway. It was pitch black outside, the street lamps and stars in the sky being the only guiding light. It was surprisingly quiet; considering they were on the main road, there was only a rare car that passed by during the night.

"Coach usually has some spare," Scott waved a hand about, stopping to tie his shoelace that had come undone.

"Is Stiles coming to wake us up to go find dead bodies gonna become a regular thing?" Jade sighed, waiting for him to finish the double knot.

"Probably."

"Of course it is."

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kaeyas-beloved · 3 years ago

Text

And I Fall Again

Character: Childe

Genre: Hurt/Comfort + Fic

Summary: It’s okay to break for one reason or more… but it doesn’t hurt any less

Warnings: Crying, unedited, gn!reader (you/your), one use of the word ‘damn’, reason for reader crying is unspecified, I wrote this at two in the morning I’m very sorry

a/n: For the times when you’re doing fine one moment only for the next to feel like the world’s crashing. Sooner or later you’ll bounce back. You might fall again, but you’ll climb back up once more.

The clock ticks 1:30 in the morning by time Ajax walks through the door. More often than not you’re already sound asleep, a space left for him to crawl into and cuddle with you once he’s ready. Tonight is a little different however, for the harsh but quiet sniffles alerts the male that you are the furthest thing from asleep.

Wasting no time, he rushes to your shared bedroom. When the door fully creaks open he’s met with darkness, the sole light being the moon strung high outside. Childe strains his eyes to find you and the second he does he’s on his knees beside you.

Some far off part of your mind acknowledges the arrival of your boyfriend but the other bit of you can’t be bothered to lift your head. All you want right now is to cry. So cry you do.

“Hey hey, why are you crying?” You feel the warmth of a hand on your shoulder as it gently rubs soothing strokes yet it does little to quench the newly formed onslaught of tears at the ginger’s query. Ocean eyes widen as Ajax momentarily remains helpless, stuck watching you ball your eyes out.

Childe is no stranger to breakdowns like these. He’s seen them in both his siblings and himself. As an elder brother he’s mastered ways to calm the lost souls of his siblings; for himself he’s found few ways to take his mind off of his troubles. For you though? You are a playing field the mighty Tartaglia has never stepped foot on - and never wanted to.

The smiles and laughs you so readily shared with him take root in his mind. Perhaps he had taken your happiness for granted, foolishly believing you’d remain content forever. That’s how he desired it after all, for you to be happy, always. Right now, you’re the furthest thing from it and it feels like a punch in the throat.

Childe is well tuned in emotions, so why hadn’t he picked up anything in you?

It feels like he’s failed you.

Ajax tries again, tries to sound softer, less pressuring. Though when it once more yields no results he moves on to the next best thing.

Encircling his arms around you, your lover pulls you onto his lap, back resting flush against the bed while you nuzzle into his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable on the floor but it’ll have to do.

Words are replaced by firm kisses to your temple, silent I’m here’s. Never once did he stop running his hand along your back and ever chance he had he pulled you impossibly closer in hopes to drown you in loving warmth. Even as your tears stands his shirt, even as a mix of snot and spit would run into his slightly exposed skin, Ajax held you. And he refused to let go.

For you, everything felt muddled and clear at the same time. You’re below water yet have the perfect seat to experience everything. You sense every loving touch, every quiet, sweet sayings being spoken into your ear. But right now coherent words are off the table, both because your voice is too choked up but also because you know the moment you try to speak you’ll default into a blubbering mess again.

You want to answer his pleas for you to tell him what’s wrong. You really do, but you just can’t, not with how you are now. Even when you’re not trapped by emotion you weren’t the best at properly putting your feelings into spoken words. And it’s this revelation that sparks an idea.

Reluctantly your boyfriend losses his grip as you being to squirm. By now your full blown dibs have died to mere sniffles and ragged, hitched breaths, and every time either sound escapes you it’s another stab to Childe’s heart. But, he thinks, at least your no longer rooted to one spot, curled into a tiny ball in hopes to hide from the world.

Confusion mixes into his blue eyes as the male watches you grab a piece of paper and pen from the nearby desk. Plopping back in front of his you get to writing. It’s quick, frantic, nothing like how you’d usually compose anything you write. After about two minutes you finish, pretty much thrusting the paper into Childe’s hands.

It takes him just as long to read it as you took to write it and by the end his eyes are misty, lips downturned into a frown. Your letter - which is the closest thing he can call it - details how you got to now. From what you were doing before to what set you off, majority of the story is there. In his eyes, embracing you once more was the most appropriate response.

“It’s alright. I promise you it’s alright,” he repeats, gently nudging you to lean back so he can cup your tear tainted cheeks. “What you’re going through is the furthest thing from a straight shot. There are going to be ups and downs, but the fact that you’ve made it this far speaks volumes. If nothing else, know that I’m very proud of where you stand today. Very proud.” There was a seriousness in his gaze that he only got when he wanted to make sure you understood he meant every word he said.

Fresh tears roll down your face, “‘m sorry Ajax…”

“You have not a damn thing to be sorry for. I swear to be here for you every step of the way,” I’m the light of the moon you can spot Ajax lift up his pinky finger, the hint of a smile on his face, “pinky promise.”

The tiny laugh you let out couldn’t be helped as you raise your own baby finger before linking it with his, “you make a pinky promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinky promise, I throw you on ice.”

“The cold will kill the pinky that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again.”

Giggling once more at the mildly childish way of promising (yet it’s the way so true to your beloved) you seal your promise with a kiss, a tinge of saltiness blending in with the usual sweetness. When you pull away a yawn rips through you, eyes beginning to droop and Childe takes this as his cue to guide you up to bed.

As you wrap yourself around him once more, Ajax replays that small smile you gave him minutes ago. For him, it symbolizes bright, solidifying hope that you will overcome this. You may not see it now but there is strength that rivals his own deep within you.

This is merely the first step to getting back on your feet, and he fully intends to walk with you every step of the way. He never breaks a promise after all and he’s not about to start.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @psycho-nightrose // @kaerui-kaisen // @stage-lucida

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#childe x gender neutral reader #genshin impact childe #childe x reader #genshin imapct #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fic #genshin childe #childe fanfic #hurt/comfort #childe hurt/comfort #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x you #genshin impact tartaglia

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4joonkookie · 4 years ago

Text

27 Candles

💜 Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

💜 Words: 3.5K

💜 Summary:

A 12 hour diary of Namjoon’s 27th birthday.

💜 Tags/Warnings:

Smut, angst, breakup, DaddyJoon, Dom/sub, Daddykink, collars, Daddy/Babygirl, birthday sex, breakup sex, makeup sex, blindfolded sex, butt play, rough sex, spanking, riding, grinding, dirty talk, back scratching, fluff, Happy Birthday to the only man I’d call Daddy, not beta read, wish I had more time.

2:30 PM

After spending hours agonizing over your approach, you call Namjoon to wish him a happy birthday. It’s been a while since you’ve heard his voice. The low rumble sends vibrations through your body.

“We should celebrate,” you insist, exposing your ulterior motive.

“What do you want to do?” he muses.

You're quiet for a while, then take a deep breath.

“It's your birthday. I want you to tell me.”

The request is bold, but subtle enough. He lets out a low laugh, a knowing one, and clears his throat.

“Yeah?” his voice lowers, probably in an area with others. “You wanna be my good girl? Be good to me?”

“Yes,” you reply, just as low though, no one is around you. “I want you to have what you want for your birthday.”

Arousal pools in your belly while you fidget with your nervous hands.

“I like that idea,” he hums. “So I'll come by the apartment when I'm done?”

“No,” you assert, disrupting your compliance. “Can I see your new place?”.

He’s had his own place for over a month now but the place you shared is still “the apartment”.

“Sure, there’s not much there. It’s basically empty,” he replies.

You assure him that's just fine. Adjusting to living in “the” apartment without him has been hard enough. A new, less familiar place might make it easier. A place not-so-lived-in.

A place he can’t leave you again.

He’s quiet for a long time again before speaking.

“Is this a good idea?” he asks, in the exhale of a heavy sigh. His tone has changed, reality settling in.

“No,” you confirm, shaking your head although you’re alone.

The line is hushed, again. The silence is heavy with all of the unspoken “I miss you”, “I need you”, “something is missing without you”.

You both know where this goes, neither having the strength to step away.

3:37 PM

When the elevators open to his apartment corridor, there is a young woman kneeling at the door. Heart pounding, you walk slowly, keeping your head down and avoid eye contact altogether when she stands and begins to walk toward you. You quickly turn your head and breathe a sigh of relief to see her disappear behind the elevator doors.

A decorative basket sits at the front doorstep. You snatch it up, enter the lock code quickly and shut the door behind you.

The basket holds a bottle of champagne on dry ice. Also, a pair of lace panties. Two fixture items, surrounded by decorative flowers, candies and a notecard.

The note is a handwritten message about missing Namjoon on his birthday and a promise of wearing the panties “next time”; a drawn heart and scribbled name.

You open the champagne, chug from the bottle and toss the rest to the trash, attempting to discard the jealousy panging in your gut.

The breakup was two months ago. You hadn’t exactly agreed to “be friends”, it just happened. Though, you haven’t seen each other in person since he moved his things out.

You take in the view of the place. It’s enormously empty. The refrigerator and cabinets are empty, a layer of dust covering the bottom of the inside. A laptop and recording equipment are the only things set up in the living room alongside a couch. The Bedroom has no walls and sits on a raised platform in the living room, a total bachelor pad. Condom wrappers lay on the bedside table near the unmade bed. The bathroom counter, cluttered with his products and potions. You pick up the bottles one by one, searching for what’s new about him. Finally, the closet. You choose a shirt and to put on and discard everything else.

Your phone buzzes, Namjoon saying he’ll be there in about an hour. It’s sooner than you thought but you order groceries anyway. It always takes longer for him to get home than he says.

“Home.” You think. This isn’t home.

4:58 PM

Surprisingly on time, he arrives carrying handfuls of delivered bags.

“You bought groceries?” He uses his foot to close the door behind him.

“Yes,” you reply, removing bags from his hands. “Why don’t you have groceries? Just hire someone to do it.”

“Why hire someone when you’re willing to do it for me?”

“I didn’t,” you banter. “I hired someone to do it.” You shrug.

You close the refrigerator behind you. His phone starts to ring, he silences it.

“Where did you get champagne?” He questions.

When you casually mention the name of the woman who signed the card, he stiffens. Checks his phone, frantic.

“You talked to her?” He remains calm, but you can tell he’s uneasy.

“Yeah, I ran into her dropping this off on my way in. She’s sweet,” you string him along, feeling a little bratty “She said she wishes she could’ve seen you on your birthday.”

He gives you a long look and you hold his gaze.

“Liar!” he laughs, approaching you. His demeanor is calming, his smile relieves something in that “something is missing” category.

“How do you know her name?” He asks curiously.

You stall, not wanting to admit your resentful gesture.

“Oh there was a note, I must’ve misplaced it,” you say, appearing (hopefully-to-be) absent-minded.

He reaches a hand to peek in the trash can. Before he can, his phone rings again. He silences it immediately.

“Is that her?” You ask, casual, distracting.

He shifts uncomfortably but is honest. “We were going to meet up today. I cancelled.”

You tilt your head. “You said you didn’t have plans.”

“I didn’t,” he says plainly.

You hide a shy smile, briefly ducking your head. “And if I hadn’t invited myself over?” you tease.

“I’d be wishing you had.” He gets closer and a familiar electricity buzzes through you. He rests his hands too comfortably on your back, pulling you in, hugging you too tight, smelling your hair.

“I missed you,” He nuzzles his cheek to yours, brushing against you. The moves are slow, requainting.

His lips press against yours and you feel yourself slipping back into him. You try to shake off the feeling, remembering what you discussed on the phone.

“So, what do you want?”

He follows along, seemingly eager to take the edge off of these heavy feelings for a while too. He guides you back to the wall.

You can feel the undertones changing. His gaze darkens, your body being enclosed in his arms.

A hand moves to your bare neck, strokes the soft skin. Your heartbeat quickens. After some back and forth, you ultimately decided not to wear the collar. Not his to claim anymore, anyway. He silently acknowledges the absence of it and moves to your waist.

“It was very rude of you to throw away my things just because you’re jealous.”

“Not jealous,” you pout, and his lips drag against your neck. He bites down at your words causing you to gasp. He pins your hands above your head, against the wall while continuing work on your neck.

“Say it,” he chides. “Tell me how jealous you are that someone else can be good for me.”

Your blood boils, thinking of the woman at the door, condoms on the nightstand.

“And how many good girls do you have?” You query, calmly.

He squeezes your wrists above you. “Say it. And I'll tell you.”

You sigh heavily and give in. “Ok, I’m jealous, you admit.

He giggles between kisses on your skin. “I know.”

“So? How many?” Not giving in to his touch yet, still wanting to know.

He shrinks the grip on your wrists to one hand and uses the other to brush a finger against your lip.

“There are many girls who are good to me but I have only one good girl.”

He releases your wrists and your lips crash together, tongues passing sloppily. You drink each other in after months apart.

“Don’t move,” he instructs, and pulls away. You stand still, watching him disappear into the bedroom. He quickly reemerges with hands behind his back.

“Turn around,” he says, before he can make it all the way back to you.

Without hesitation, you turn and place both hands on the wall, bracing yourself. You feel his presence behind you and it all goes black. A silky fabric drapes over your eyes, a knot being tied just behind your head.

You reach behind yourself to grab at him. “What are you doing?!” The sudden darkness is startling, shocking.

He wraps arms tight around your body to still you.

“Shhh….,” he soothes. This is what I want.” A hand slides beneath the hem of your panties, circling fingers at your wet center, free arm holding you tight to his chest.

He raises his fingers to your lips, offering a taste of yourself.

When you release his fingers, he loosens his grasp on your body and grips a hand at the back of your neck. You straighten up on two feet.

“Walk,” he demands.

After walking a ways, your back hits the mattress.

You can’t see him but his hands are hot on your skin, traveling in unseen paths. You can hear your breath, loud. The quiet in the room is loud.

It’s dark, but the fear begins to fade. All other senses are heightened.

There is a sense of right with his hands on your skin again, lips on yours again, his scent filling your nostrils again, feeling his weight above you again.

He drags his tongue slowly down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your navel and fastens his mouth to your center making you squirm as he sucks below, arms hooked around your thighs.

He licks lovingly, skillfully, and pulls away too soon. He pulls you up by your arms and guides you to sit up.

“Show me what a good girl you are?” he whispers above you. The whisper is crystal clear, echoing in your ears.

You nod into the darkness and hear him removing clothes. Cock free, he pushes the tip to your lips and pushes in slow, to the back of your throat, holding himself there.

“No hands,” he warns. He slides out just as slowly and you do your best to control your gags.

He pushes in again, too quickly and deep. You pull away, coughing and trapping his shaft with your hand.

“No.” he pushes your hand away. He grabs your chin, prying your jaw open and pushes in again. Drool spills and tears moisten the fabric over your eyes. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it flush against his pelvis, no room for grabby hands.

You choke and back off of it, using both hands this time to remove it. You cough when he pulls out, a string of saliva still connecting you.

It’s been a while since you've done this but somehow, it’s more difficult because you can’t see.

“Bend Over,” he growls.

You turn over and feel the familiar caress over your cheek before he moves, muscle memory. He lays a hard smack and you moan, spine lighting up. You smile gleefully to yourself. A familiar warmth overtakes you.

“You’re out of practice,” he taunts, “Need to remember how to behave.”

Another hit, and you cry out again. Spanks, all the more exciting and titillating behind a blindfold.

“You want to give Daddy what he wants, you said?” you hear his voice from behind you.

You nod, zoned in on your lack of vision.

You don’t sense the next hit coming, it’s so much more intense. You’ve been punished for not using words. Without hesitation, they come spilling out.

“Yes, Daddy.”

This.

This was definitely missing. Not so much that you need to be punished but that you want to be tamed.

And no one does it like him.

He slides two fingers into you from behind. You moan and buck back, bouncing on his fingers.

He leans down to lap you, licking up from your pussy and his fingers up to your ass, prodding his tongue inside the tight muscle.

He moves away and you hear the click of a bottle. Cold lube spills over your exposed skin.

Two fingers still in your pussy, He gruffly pushes a third to your bum, pouring more lube with a free hand. He pushes to the webbing of his hand and holds it, giving you time to adjust.

“Good girl loves being filled up, huh?”

You nod before catching yourself. “Yes, Daddy.”

He adds a second finger inside, two in each opening now, scissoring and stretching you open.

You sob, everything feeling that much more intense and full in the dark.

He pulls his fingers out of your body with a lewd pop.

“Are you ready to try again?.”

“Yes.” Something clicks in your mind and has your body assuming the previous position.

The shock of the sensory change and overwhelming emotion before had you too frantic, unable to focus.

Now, bridled in just the right way, he pushes into your throat with no objections from your body, only eager acceptance.

He begins thrusting at the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and control your gags. The darkness isn’t so startling anymore. It helps you focus on controlling your muscles, a meditation almost. You grip the sheets to keep your hands away.

He pulls out and you try to even your desperate breath, swallowing pooled saliva.

He tests your compliance, pushing to the back again, using two hands to hold your head down, letting your face slide off silently.

“There she is,” he strokes your hair as you wipe your mouth. “There’s my good girl.”

The praise fuels you, feeling pleased and settled.

He turns you over again and slides inside right away, slapping hips against you. You whimper and move your body with his.

You nearly ascend when he pushes his index finger into your stretched ass while still thrusting inside.

His cock thrusts against your g spot and presses against his finger behind your walls.The repeated pressure on both sides makes your knees shake. The sound you make is almost primal, body falling limp, spiraling through an orgasm.

He frees his hands and pushes your shoulders flat to the bed to slam inside. You lay, boneless as he grunts and growls through his own orgasm.

Falling beside you, he removes the blindfold and gestures for you to lay on his chest.

He pets and strokes the places he’s left marks. He slides his thumb along your worked jaw.

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve missed this feeling of safe, being claimed again.

8:09 PM

Limbs draped together laying on the bed, Namjoon carries on about his most recent lyric-writing.

Words, spilling out a mile a minute, eyes focused outward, trying to find a lyrical solution by talking aloud.

You study him, just as you always had. The same ,familiar motions and conversation but a different background.

It’s unmistakable.

It’s not any particular location that’s “lived-in”. This place echoes with empty and still smells of fresh paint.

It’s the relationship, the vibes. You and Namjoon are lived-in.

His voice, his touch. You know it’s everything you need but know it won’t last. You broke up for a reason, a dark cloud lingering over your temporary reconnection.

You try not to think of it, letting this temporary elation carry you both to the point where you must eventually take stock of what’s happening and acknowledge that you’re worse together, no matter how good it feels right now.

Despite your silent spiral, he continues talking, unbothered. You watch him, endeared, absorbing every morsel of himself he has to offer before you part again.

Eventually, he catches himself. “Sorry, should I stop?”

You climb on top of him and snag the nearby blindfold. You playfully spread it over his mouth and a giggle erupts from underneath. You slide it up to his eyes, mimicking your position from earlier. He inhales sharply and smiles.

You take his earlobe into your mouth and suck marks to his collarbone, not caring of the consequences. He doesn’t stop you, hissing and grabbing at your hair.

You relish In taking him like this, the breakup, giving you freedom to reciprocate this notion and him, the freedom to surrender to it.

You lean down and graze your teeth over his nipples, a secret sensitive spot.

He gasps and lets out a whimper. It was beautiful. You chase it again, sucking and blowing cold air over them.

Still naked, you grasp the shaft and wrap your pussy over him, eyes rolling back at the pleasing friction.

You slide up and down, chasing the high.

He’s moaning in a way you’ve never heard, the intensity of not having vision.

Still above him, you plant a foot on the ground and slide his length inside of yourself.

Your hips move above him, slowly at first. You watch him, every pant and bead of sweat dripping. You get to see him in a way you couldn’t if he could see you back.

Soon, it feels too good, dick rocking right on your spot, fast and deep. He moves his hips faster below you, a signal to speed up.

You rock back and forth, squirming and squelching on his cock, feeling a little freer that he can’t see you, but only feel you so intensely.

He sinks and drags fingernails down your back with a hiss and a moan. He keeps his nails buried in your skin and holds your hips down.

“Fuck,” he pants as you pull the blindfold loose to see him come.

His hands grab yours and you use your laced hands to brace yourself, squeezing fingers tight when you both come.

It feels like an official reuniting, coming together again. Having more even ground this time, just experiencing this together.

Now, all is right again. Doubt, drowned just a bit longer.

11:51 PM

You’re in a marathon of a conversation, catching up on the last few months.

You laugh and talk and joke, just like old times. He grabs you by the waist.

He kisses you. Long and full of expectation.

“Just remind me why.” He exhales and pushes his forehead to yours.

“No, Joonie, we can’t do this_” You feel thorns grow on your skin and try to push away.

He doesn’t remember yet. This is a beaten path. As much as you missed the four walls you shared, by the end of it all, it was suffocating. Walls, closing in.

“Please,” he pleads. “Because i’m looking at you and we’re here talking and kissing and fucking, perfect as it always was and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why we’re not together.”

You shake your head as tears burn at your eyelids.

“No, Namjoon, we cannot have this fight again…” you try to free yourself again. There’s so much more to it all than sex and conversation.

“Who’s fighting?”

“You know why we’re not together,” you argue. It was bad for a long time. We fought and fought_…”

“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” he interrupts.

You look at him, shake your head.

“I did.” Tears falling freely now. “We can’t see each other anymore. It’s not fair. Not to either one of us.

You laugh to yourself. “We both knew it was a bad idea. We knew we’d end up right back here.”

“And where is that?” he asks, soft tears spilling from his sharp eyes.

You don’t answer. Just offer a weak smile as you quickly dress.

“Happy Birthday.”

And just like that, it’s all over, 2 strokes to midnight.

12:13 AM

You turn on the lights to “the” empty apartment and intentionally don’t look around. Any progress you had made at making the place feel like just yours are back at square one.

Your body is heavy with regret, can’t believe you let yourself drown in him again.

You crawl under the covers and wait for it to be just not so hard, back turned away from the side of the bed that feels so devastatingly empty.

2:30 AM

You stir awake from a noise at the door. The knock sounds again, waking you completely.

You sleepily drag yourself to the door.

There he stands, eyes swollen, looking lost and vulnerable.

You stare at each other in the doorway, unable to tell if there are a million unsaid things being spoken or just emotions spilling sloppily around with no rhyme or reason.

The same electricity fires inside. Even though you can’t remember what you said when you left.

The only thing you can remember right now is how right it is that he’s here. And how wrong it was when he was gone, and how empty his side of the bed is.

You extend your hand out, inviting him in. He looks for a long time and finally accepts. You shut the door behind him, locking you both back into those four walls.

#bts smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon smut #namjoon thirst #bts oneshot #bts drabble #namjoon one shot #namjoon drabble #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #bts fic rec #bts fic

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