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pumpkin-writes · 5 days

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worlds apart: part 1 – the fall

pairing: ooc x rafe cameron x jj maybank

warnings: maybee some mild language ( i don't think there's anything wild ) mention of death, this is super introductory and completely sfw!

word count: 1.2 k

notes: phew! y'all! it's been almost a yearrrrr since i first talked about writing this series!! i started writing this before i experienced a deep loss in my immediate family and my depression hit me so hard, this idea was almost lost forever. however! after rewatching outer banks with my boyfriend a few months ago, i was inspired to pick this back up. i hope you can all forgive me if you were expecting this in decemember, but here it is now, and i hope you all enjoy <3

delaney castle stood in the middle of a sea of black, her heels sinking into the freshly cut grass. the scent of damp earth and flowers weighed heavy in the air, but all she could focus on was the gaping hole in the ground just a few feet away. her father’s grave. it felt surreal—like she was watching this moment from a distance, as if it were happening to someone else. people swarmed around her, offering meaningless condolences, their voices blending into a dull hum. faces she barely recognized. people who’d never really known her father, only his money, his status. her fingers clenched around the edges of her black dress, trying to ground herself in something, anything. rafe cameron lingered at the back of the crowd. she hadn’t expected him to come, hadn’t wanted him to, but of course he did. always appearing at the worst times. she’d broken up with him a week ago, right before everything fell apart, right before her father collapsed in his office, leaving her with nothing but debts and a one-way ticket to the cut. he caught her eye, and for a split second, something flickered in her chest. she quickly tore her gaze away, focusing on the casket instead.

after the ceremony, delaney’s mother, alicia, stood beside her, stiff and awkward. it had been years since they’d spent more than a handful of hours together. growing up, alicia had been a name whispered in hushed conversations, a fleeting presence in her life. the only memories she had of her mother were foggy—a vague recollection of a small apartment, and a woman too thin, too tired, always on edge. she had let her father take her because it was "for the best." at least, that’s what everyone always said. her mother had been clean for years now, or so she claimed. but delaney still barely knew her. now, alicia was all she had left. the drive to the cut felt like a journey to another world. alicia’s car rattled over the uneven streets, the interior bare except for a few fast-food wrappers crumpled on the floor. delaney stared out the window, her chest tight, the silence between them suffocating. "i know this isn’t what you’re used to," her mother began, her voice tentative, as if she was afraid of saying the wrong thing. "but… it’s a fresh start." delaney didn’t answer. she didn’t know how. her life had already been flipped upside down—first her father’s death, then rafe, and now this. a fresh start felt like a cruel joke. they pulled up to a small, weathered house tucked away on a narrow street. it wasn’t much—paint chipping, the yard overgrown—but alicia smiled weakly as she gestured toward it. "home sweet home," she said, her voice straining to sound cheerful. delaney wanted to say something—anything to break the awkwardness—but the words stuck in her throat. instead, she grabbed her bags from the trunk, dragging them inside. the house was modest, to say the least. alicia had mentioned she worked as a waitress now, and it showed. everything felt small, cramped, compared to the sprawling estate on figure eight her father had raised her in. there were no marble floors or grand staircases here, just squeaky wooden floors and faded wallpaper. she set her suitcase down in the spare bedroom—her new bedroom—and sat on the edge of the bed. everything about this place felt foreign, including the woman standing in the doorway, watching her with hopeful, nervous eyes. "i’m really glad you’re here, laney," alicia said softly. "i know… i haven’t been the best mom, but i want to try. i want to make things right between us." her throat tightened at her mother calling her the nickname her father had coined years ago. she knew alicia meant it, but it didn’t change the fact that she still felt like a stranger. "yeah," she muttered, barely glancing at her, instead scanning every little detail of the room she now called her own. "we’ll see."

the first few days passed in a blur. delaney kept to herself, avoiding her mother and the uncomfortable conversations that lingered between them. she could feel alicia’s attempts to connect—making her breakfast in the mornings, offering to drive her places—but it felt too forced, too late. it was like trying to bond with someone she barely knew, which in a way, she was. on the third day, the walls of the house started to feel like they were closing in on her. she needed air, space to clear her head. delaney grabbed her hoodie and stepped out, walking aimlessly through the streets of the cut. everything was different here—the houses smaller, the people rougher, more direct. she wasn’t sure where she was going, but she followed the sound of laughter and voices until she found herself at the wreck yard. that’s when she saw them. the pogues. kiara, who she knew from school, sat on a rusted car hood, laughing at something pope said. jj leaned against a tree, a smirk on his face as he twirled a cigarette between his fingers. john b was there too, but his eyes were locked on sarah cameron. they all looked so at ease with each other. she hesitated, feeling out of place. she was the girl who’d grown up in wealth, the girl who’d been with rafe cameron—the enemy. but then kiara spotted her. "laney?" she called out, waving her over.there was no turning back now. jj couldn’t help but smirk as delaney made her way over. he’d heard all about her, the kook princess turned cut dweller. she was pretty, sure, but he didn’t trust anyone who used to swap spit with that dick rafe cameron. "well, well, if it isn’t a kook slumming it with us poor folks," jj said, his grin wide. delaney rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. "nice to see you too, maybank." kiara shot him a look, but jj just shrugged. something about delaney made him want to push her buttons. pope stepped in before things could get more awkward. "you holding up okay?" he asked, his voice softer than jj’s teasing. delaney shifted on her feet. "i guess. it’s… an adjustment." "yeah, i bet," kiara said, offering a sympathetic smile. "if you need anything, we’re here." delaney smiled back, though it felt strange. she wasn’t sure how she fit in here, how to leave behind the version of herself tied to the kooks and rafe. as the conversation moved on, jj leaned in, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. "so, how’s life without your favorite psycho?" her stomach twisted at the mention of rafe, but she kept her expression neutral. "better," she said, though the word felt heavy in her mouth. jj studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp. "yeah, we’ll see about that."

that night, delaney was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when her phone buzzed. she picked it up, her chest tightening when rafe’s name appeared on the screen.

miss you, d.

she stared at the message, her finger hovering over the reply button. but after a long moment, she tossed the phone aside, not ready to face the storm that always followed him. for the first time, she wasn’t sure what scared her more—rafe cameron, or the way her heart still skipped a beat when she saw his name.

#obx #obx fic #fic: worlds apart #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #mine #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #obx fanfiction

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abarbaricyalp · 8 months

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Hi! Not sure how it works, but for the Whumptober event: #15 for SamBucky?

Oh it is so embarrassing to be answering this so late. I have literally been working on it (off and on) since October. It never strayed from the top of my WIP pile. I just...gestures vaguely Thank you so much for sending in a prompt and I'm so sorry to have taken so long. I do love a good "Leave me alone, I'm fine" whump. I went with "Makeshift bandages" but I'm sure you can find "suppressed suffering" and "I'm fine" if you squint.

Putting Bandages Where Stitches Should Be

CW: Injury, violence, blood, etc

Read on AO3

Steve was right again. Sam hated it when Steve was right. It was making an indisputably bad day even worse.

"Don't go out today," Steve had said, all puppy-dogged eyes that morning. "I've got a bad feeling."

Him and his bad feelings. He called it a soldier's intuition and Sam called it a soldier's paranoia. But, dammit, he was usually right. That couldn’t be a byproduct of the serum, could it?

But it was a beautiful fall day and they needed groceries something fierce, so Sam had rolled his eyes and called him paranoid and headed out.

It had been fine for several hours, Sam wanted it noted. Just a normal day of errands. Hell, no one had even recognized him. He even tried a new coffee drink.

With a hysterical kind of laugh, Sam realized he hadn’t even made it to the grocery store yet. Probably a good thing since the car was now languishing in a parking lot somewhere and it was only going to get warmer as the day went on. What time was it, he wondered. Had Steve realized something was wrong yet? That paranoid intuition would be real handy right about then.

Sam leaned back against the dingy wall and tried not to think about how badly he was sweating against it. It was going to start mildewing. He still couldn’t figure out where these guys came from. The parking lot had been almost completely empty. There’d been no one else near him. One second, he was loading up a bag of new blankets into the back of the car, and the next someone was hitting him upside the head and dragging him away.

He knew they had to be trained at least a little. They were quiet and fierce. Nothing that Sam couldn’t normally hand, but there had been no fighting through the early wound to his head. Actually, it was still pulsing, each heartbeat a new throb of bruise-ache against his skull. The longer he sat here, the further the ache traveled, reaching for his temples, his ears, his eyes.

He closed his eyes, as if that would stave off anything at all, and listened to the ambient noise of whatever not-so-safe house he was being held in. He’d seen neither hide nor hair of his attackers since they’d thrown him into the small room. He assumed it was an apartment and this was some bedroom or office. It was clean, the carpet was almost soft. There were worse places, he thought. And with it being carpet, maybe they weren’t looking to make him bleed. That’d be nice.

He knew other people were around. He could hear them pacing around the other side of the door. His head hurt too much to concentrate on what they were saying. They were speaking German, which he didn’t speak, but it gave him a good feel that this was probably Hydra. It made the apartment even more confusing. What would Hydra want with Sam that involved just keeping him thrown in an empty office?

There was a cacophony outside then, snarling and the sounds of blows landing on bodies, bodies falling to the floor.

“Ich habe es dir gesagt!” he heard someone shout. “Er ist der Winter Soldier!”

Someone was shitting Sam. Instantly, all of the minor irritation of the day flooded over the actual concern of having been kidnapped by neo-Nazi assholes. If he’d said ‘this day can’t get worse’ this is the exact outcome that would have made it worse. He’d take bleeding over this.

There was more fighting and then the door was wrenched open and a very bloodied and bruised Winter Soldier was kicked into the room, landing hard on his face and wrist beside Sam.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam said, just to get it out there.

Barnes turned over onto his back, keeping his hurt wrist against his chest. He looked up at Sam, scowled through the blood on his face, managed to glare while both eyes were almost swelled shut. “I ain’t thrilled to see you neither, birdbrain,” he coughed. He turned back onto his side to spit out a glob of blood that landed on the knee of Sam’s jeans.

“Asshole,” Sam snapped and tried to clean it off, even though it was already a lost battle. “I take it you fought back,” Sam guessed.

“I take it you did not,” Bucky shot back and it felt more like an insult than an actual insult would have.

Sam scowled at him. It had been months since they’d seen each other. Sam couldn’t even say what city or even country it was that he’d caught up to Barnes in. It hadn’t been a long meeting. More or less just enough time for them to grapple and exchange a few threats before Barnes shook Sam’s tail again. At first, Sam took it as a personal failing that he kept losing Barnes. He was too ashamed to admit to Steve that he’d caught up with the reanimated best friend but let him slip away. Then, as time went on and Sam caught him more often, he placed all of the blame fully on Barnes. There were times, he knew, when Barnes let him catch up. These happened only often enough to keep Sam in the cat-and-mouse game. There were times, he also knew, when Barnes fully didn’t expect Sam to have found him. Two months ago was one of those times. Barnes had seemed healthy and adjusted. He had his own place and there was fresh bread on the table. Small miracles.

That did not explain why Barnes was in New York or anywhere near it in order to get the shit beat out of him by Hydra goons and dragged into whatever this was.

Barnes shoved himself up by the elbows and spit more blood out. So much for keeping the carpet clean. “So what the fuck did you do to land us here?”

“This is not an ‘us’ situation,” Sam objected with a snort. “What did you do to land you here?”

“Fuck all,” Barnes answered. He leaned against the wall next to Sam, tilted his head back to avoid gushing more blood from his nose. Sam had seen him hurt before, but he’d never been around for the fall out like this. He was like some stray dog, sleeping off the worst of it and trying to lick clean all of the rest. “You told me it was an emergency.”

Sam looked away from a smear of blood on Bucky’s neck to frown at him directly. “I did not reach out to you. And what kind of emergency could possibly make you come all the way back to America?”

Bucky’s head lolled over to him. A muscle worked in his jaw and down his neck as those obnoxious eyes scanned over Sam’s face. “You said Steve was hurt. Bad.”

“I didn’t. He’s not. That’s all it would’ve taken to get you back here?” he asked, just a little offended that he’d been traipsing around the world and digging huge chunks into his sleep deficit when there was a magic code to bring Bucky back on his own. And all it would take was Steve landing himself in a hospital again.

Bucky half waved him off, turned his head away again. “Someone must’ve really wanted me here.”

“I cannot fathom why.”

They sat in stony silence for too long. Sam much preferred being alone, he decided. At least then silence was just silence and not this crackling energy between them. Barnes broke the silence by coughing wetly again and spitting out more blood and tissue.

“Christ alive,” Sam sighed. “What’s going on with you?” He reached out without any fanfare to hold Bucky’s face and examine the injuries there. There’d been no time for any of them to heal, not that Sam would’ve been able to tell through the blood. “Hold still,” he ordered and reached for the hidden knife in Bucky’s bootheel that he knew was there.

“How?” Bucky asked. Sam was surprised to only find curiosity in his voice and not anger.

“I’ve seen you take it out before. Just had to hope it wasn’t something Hydra taught you and knew to look for.”

“Nah, that one’s all Brooklyn,” he said with a tired sigh. “Well, kind of. I adapted it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. The old-timey Brooklyn posturing was the same whether it was Steve or Barnes, evidently. He cut the sleeve off of his shirt and used it to begin cleaning away some of the blood on Bucky’s face. It was slow going without water, but Barnes was remarkably quiet during the entire thing. He let Sam work without fussing. His eyes remained focused and sharp, bright even in the dim room. He was more enjoyable when his eyes looked like this, instead of the dead shark stare he got in the middle of a fight.

Not that Sam was going to admit Barnes was ever enjoyable to be around.

“What do you think this is about?” Sam asked to distract Bucky from the fact that he was about to set his nose back.

“Clearly they wanted the both of us–Fuck you, Wilson!” Bucky shouted and shoved Sam hard enough that Sam actually rocked back and lost his balance, sprawled across the floor. Sam subtly rolled out his shoulder–it was definitely going to bruise–before he sat up again and glared.

“I didn’t think you wanted the rugged crooked nose look,” he defended without any real belief in the words. He was actually kind of worried about what the serum would do to a persistently crooked nose.

Bucky rubbed from the bridge of his nose into the soft, squishy bruises around his eyes. Already, impossibly, the color was draining from the outer edges of the bruises. Sam hated him for it.

“Clearly they wanted both of us,” Sam agreed and rolled his shoulder again. “But…they don’t seem keen on cutting off fingers.”

“Not yet,” Bucky grunted.

“They gotta know we won’t talk. You won’t talk. Don’t you think it’s kind of playing with fire to bring you here? I mean, you’re not even drugged.”

As if his words were a reminder, Bucky eyed the door. Sam knew he could take it out of the wall if he wanted too. He also knew that whoever these assholes were, they had enough manpower to bring Bucky in bloodied and rough. He figured Bucky was doing similar calculations in his mind.

“Why us?” Sam prompted again.

“Steve,” Bucky grunted. He leaned back against the wall and drew his knees up to his chest. “They wouldn’t bother to hunt me down, wouldn’t take that risk, for anything else. They probably think if they have both of us, they have twice as much leverage.”

“Maybe they couldn’t decide which one he was more likely to come for,” Sam suggested, only a little sarcastically.

“That man would rend the Earth apart for you,” Bucky said as simply as he would talk about the weather.

Sam tried not to blow over again. Bucky believed that. He wasn’t just saying it to be a shit. “Have you been watching us?” he asked, instead of asking for a thesis on why Bucky thought that so assuredly.

Bucky cut him a look. It was dampened by the bruises. “I had to keep making sure neither of you had gotten yourselves killed yet.”

“Yeah, you’re a real shining example of how to do it right. Show back up on American soil for two minutes and instantly get captured,” Sam snarked back. He needed to put some distance between his current situation and the fact that Barnes thought Steve would ‘rend the Earth apart’ for him. “Come here and let me look at that wrist.”

“Is this how you were with the pararescue?”

“Good at my job? Yes.”

“So damn pushy,” Barnes corrected. But he shifted how he was sitting so they were almost knee to knee and then held out his arm. “It’ll heal on its own,” he said. “I’ve had worse.”

“Or I can just wrap it and you don’t have to worry about rebreaking it later. Do you know how many carpal bones there are? You keep fucking them up, or the tendons attached to them, and you’re gonna be in a world of hurt for longer than you need to be.”

“There are eight,” Barnes said, just to be difficult. “Should I name them all for you too?”

Sam took half a second to glare at him before returning his attention to Bucky’s wrist. Barnes was long fingered, which was something Sam knew logically. He’d seen him handle weaponry. Seen him fight. Still, it was different when those fingers were laid out across his forearm, a little swollen, a little curled in, but still so damn pretty. Sam had never met someone with pretty hands before. He’d expected Bucky’s hands to be gnarled and scarred from a lifetime of fighting and training and abuse, but they just weren’t. The serum helped, he assumed. He wondered what they had looked like on the man from all of Steve’s stories. Had they looked like this, even working on the docks all day and boxing his way through the nights?

Everyone Sam knew who’d ever worked around boats had hands that were rope-burned and muscled and suntanned. He’d half expected Bucky’s to be similar. Instead, his hands were…not soft, exactly. But clean and smooth.

He pushed his thumbs into Bucky’s wrist, dragging them down his metacarpals. Barnes hissed in a breath and his eyes darted away from Sam’s ministrations. Sam returned his thumbs to Bucky’s wrist and then pushed down into his ulna and radius. He didn’t react as strongly to that, so Sam focused on the carpals that were up high in his wrist. (Down low? He could never remember how to orient the body)

“Where does it hurt?” he asked, probing for the misaligned bone but coming up empty.

“Everywhere,” Barnes ground out. “It fucking hurts everywhere.” But he didn’t yank his hand away, so Sam kept at it. Finally, finally, something snapped as Sam pushed his thumbs down into Bucky’s wrist for an umpteenth time. Bucky swore colorfully and snatched his hand back at that, rubbing his own fingers over his wrist while new curses came out.

“Let me wrap it a little,” Sam offered, holding his hand out again.

Bucky looked at him like he bit. Sam had read all the notes about the Winter Soldier. How medical treatment was administered. When the Soldier cooperated and when he didn’t. The Soldier could handle inordinate amounts of pain. Bucky Barnes, it seemed, did not feel like keeping the habit alive.

“It’ll be fine without a sling,” he insisted. “It already feels better.” And then, from between his teeth, he added, “Thank you.”

He was still bloodied, hair matted all to hell. He looked like some kind of wild man. Actually, he kind of looked how Sam expected to find him at the beginning of the Great Barnes Search and Rescue Mission. He came forward again, beginning to wipe at Bucky’s face one more time.

“You’re disgusting to look at,” he defended when Bucky tacked a lazy glare on him.

“Just admit you wanna touch my face, Wilson,” Bucky shot back.

Sam accidentally reopened a wound, so he tore off a piece from his demolished sleeve and stuck it to the gash like toilet paper on a shaving knick.

“You’re so dumb,” Bucky sighed as his eyes closed. Then he pitched right into Sam, almost completely boneless.

“Barnes?” Sam barked as he fought to get his hands under Bucky’s body enough to lift him again. “Do not fucking pass out,” he ordered, possibly irrelevantly. “Barnes,” he snapped again, and gently smacked the better, less bruised side of his face. “You didn’t say you were concussed. You didn’t say you had more injuries.” He yanked up Bucky’s shirt, prodding his belly and ribs for any signs of internal bleeding, but came up short. Just a bunch of outside bruises, maybe a crack in his ribs. He wrenched open Bucky’s mouth to check for signs he’d been coughing blood, but didn’t find any of that either. He was just about to shove his fingers down Bucky’s throat to look for a blood clot when his eyes fluttered open again.

He took a few seconds to recognize his surroundings–distressingly still and relaxed about waking up in a room he didn’t know–and then he reached up for Sam’s wrist and pulled his hand away. “Why were your fingers in my mouth?”

Sam rolled his eyes while he waited for his heart to stop thundering in his chest. Just his luck. Find the prodigal best friend and watch him die before Sam could drop him at Steve’s feet. “You basically begged for me to,” he scoffed. “Sam, please, you’ve just got such good fingers. I need them in my mouth.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, then grimaced. So it probably was some kind of concussion. At least Sam didn’t have to worry about blood clots. “What’s happened? How long was I out?”

“Nothing. A few seconds,” Sam answered. “Don’t do that again.”

Bucky saluted from halfway up his chest. “Whatever, man. I’m just tired.”

“I don’t care what you are. Keep your eyes open.”

The door opened then and a tall man, dressed like a movie villain with tall dark boots and a long dark coat, walked into the room. He had Sam’s phone in his hand and it was trilling with a waiting phone call.

“You don’t keep a passcode on your phone?” Bucky asked drily.

“Of course I fucking do,” Sam snapped back.

“Gentlemen, please,” the man said with a stifled German accent.

Steve picked up just before it would’ve gone to voicemail. “Sam, hey, I was about to send out a rescue party.”

Bucky looked at Sam pointedly, which Sam ignored. It was just a joke. He hadn’t been gone that long. Probably.

“Mr. Rogers,” the man in the coat greeted. Sam could practically feel Steve go still on the other side of the call. “I seem to have acquired not only your friend’s cell phone, but him as a whole person. And he came along with another friend.”

He snapped a photo of Sam and Bucky. Bucky barely flinched at the flash, but a few seconds later, he was still blinking and shaking his head, like the light was still in his eyes. The bad guy du jour tapped around on Sam’s phone and Sam heard it buzz in on Steve’s end.

Steve was quiet, contemplative for a few seconds. Then he said, “You have Sam and Bucky?”

“Yeeesss,” the man agreed with a lilting exaggeration. “I didn’t know they came as a pair.”

“They don’t, usually. But now that you do have both, good luck.”

And then the little shit hung up the phone. Even the asshole German guy stared at the screen in disbelief. Another man appeared in the hallway. He cast a nervous glance towards Bucky, whose eyes were shut again, before redirecting his attention to his boss.

“What’d he say?” the man asked. He was fully American. Jersey, maybe.

“Bad connection,” the other man ground out before stalking down the hallway. The second man hurried to keep up. The door remained open.

Sam nudged Bucky’s ribs. “Stop it,” Bucky grumbled without opening his eyes.

“If you pass out again, I’m not waking you up this time,” Sam lied. “What did Steve mean?”

“I think he meant we can handle ourselves. I just need to…” He grimaced. “I just need to rest my eyes for a little while. Then I’ll be good to go.”

“The door is open now,” Sam pointed out under his breath. “Come on, you don’t have some kind of super hearing where you can fight with your eyes closed?”

Bucky raised one eyebrow in consideration. It stressed a gash across his brow. “I can fight in the dark,” he agreed.

“I’ll keep anyone from hitting you in the face again,” Sam promised. “But we have to go now.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes open and leveled a calculating glare on Sam before he nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, which felt like a miracle in and of itself. He pushed himself to his feet and then leaned back against the wall as he pressed the heels of his hands over his browbones.

Sam stood as well and put a hand to Bucky’s elbow. In all their brief encounters, they didn’t get much time to touch each other, unless they were brawling over nothing but ego. Bucky was actually…kind of soft beneath Sam’s fingers. And warm. He was certainly not the sharp edged, battle ready soldier Sam kept finding. He felt real and alive. And he was still trying to blink his eyes open.

Sam curled his fingers tighter around Bucky’s elbow and pulled him out into the hallway. He scanned the unit for any sunlight that he could use to orient himself. Without speaking, Bucky pulled him to the stairs. They made it most of the way down before the wall of the stairs gave way to an open railing and they were spotted by more assholes in black.

“Y’all coordinate these outfits beforehand or y’all keep changes of clothes here?” Sam asked before he threw Bucky into the crowd of assholes.

He tried to keep his promise about keeping punches away from Bucky’s face. They landed damn near everywhere else. Sam had underestimated how many people there were–numbers growing from three to five to nine until he lost count. Bucky was holding his own, putting men down two-to-one to Sam, climbing to three-to-one. Sam tried to catch glimpses of the rest of the house. There was a wall of windows, covered in curtains and pasted over with film or paper. The rest of the room looked like a dining room or something. Behind them was nothing but more room and dark walls.

“Find the front door,” Bucky snapped when Sam’s eyes went to the window again. He smashed someone’s head down on the banister with enough force to crack either bone or wood. “I’m not jumping through glass.”

Sam rolled his eyes and then ducked away from a Goddamn hammer. He wrestled it away from the man wielding it, then threw it at the window to shatter it open. “There you go. No need to jump,” he said breathlessly. He turned just in time to catch someone around the waist and throw them into the wall before they could get the drop on Bucky, who was, if Sam had to guess, wrenching someone’s arm out of socket.

Bucky got a gun from somewhere and made fast work of everyone else in the room, but not before the guy who Sam had thrown into the wall smashed Sam’s head into it in retaliation. On the opposite side from the open wound Sam was already contending with, of course. Why shouldn’t the bruises match?

“You’re bleeding,” Bucky said, cutting through the ringing, violent silence that had fallen over the house. He wiped away the blood that was pouring over his own eye, completely oblivious to the irony. “Jesus, you’re bleeding a lot. What happened?”

Sam stared at him a little dumbfounded. “Are you serious right now?”

Bucky tsked away his bitching, yanking Sam over to examine his forehead like a collector looking at diamonds. “Gross,” he decided and then ripped the collar of his shirt off like it was nothing, along with a chunk of the bottom of it. “Don’t move,” he ordered as he folded the fabric over on itself a few times and then pressed it tightly over the wound on Sam’s head. He used the collar of his shirt to tie the fabric down.

His fingers were absurdly gentle as he worked. The warmth that had radiated off of his body was gone now, fingers cool against the bruise-hot burn of Sam’s skin. Sam didn’t realize his eyes had fallen shut until Bucky gently touched his other cheek and tilted his face down just a little. “Don’t die,” he said.

Sam didn’t have the energy to glare at him. “Pot, kettle,” he managed to say. He pulled Bucky’s hand away from his face and looked around the room. “You know this wasn’t everyone.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got the rest handled,” he promised and held up a grenade.

“What the fuck?” Sam asked, staring at it like he’d never seen one before. “Why did someone just have that on them?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s not even a good one,” he said disappointedly. “There probably isn’t anyone else here, but at least no one will be able to come back,” he offered. He crossed to the window and removed the remaining glass with his metal arm, still looking at it like it was personally offending him.

They helped each other through the window with the unspoken agreement not to mention it again after this. Both of them had enough blood dripping in their eyes and rattled brains to warrant it just this once.

“You handled yourself pretty well without your wings,” Bucky offered as they walked away from the house. “How big do you suppose that window is?”

“I was trained before I had the wings,” Sam pointed out sharply. He glanced over his shoulder to reassess the broken window. “Four by six, you think?”

“Sure, the whole thing, but what about the cleared part?”

“Two by three? Four?”

Bucky regarded the grenade in his hand and the distance between them and the house. “I can do that,” he decided.

They walked a few meters more before he turned fully, pulled the pin of the grenade, and then threw it with an accuracy that would have more Cy Young winners seething with jealousy. Not to mention the distance and force of it too.

A few seconds later, the house exploded. Bucky was right. It wasn’t a very good grenade.

Sam looked around the wooded area they were in, a marginal field around them before the trees started up again, which was probably best because of the fire now. “So, where the fuck are we?” he asked.

“And how the fuck do we get home?” Bucky finished with a ridiculous perturbed set to his lips.

“Ah, shit, that asshole still had my phone,” Sam groaned when the patting of his pants came up empty. He knew Steve’s number by heart, but he didn’t imagine Bucky had his phone on him either.

“We could go see where he went,” Bucky suggested. “That explosion was not cool enough to take out any of the cars.”

“Neither one of us is in any condition to go track someone down.”

“Could be fun.”

Bucky was already looking at him when Sam glanced over to see if he was being serious. “You wanna try to live out the last third of an action movie?”

“Second third at best,” Bucky scoffed with a wave. “Lots more adventures ahead of us. The Winter Soldier and the Falcon has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“It would absolutely be The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Captain Good-Looking and The Grouchy Soldier. Angel and Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky interrupted, reaching for Sam’s hand. For just a second, Sam’s heart may have stuttered in his chest. But all Bucky was doing was unwinding the bandage Sam had put around his wrist earlier so that he could patch up the sluggishly bleeding gashes on Sam’s knuckles now. “Come on, Pilot Hyperbole. We’re losing daylight.”

“The Falcon and the Hound Dog,” Sam added, following Bucky as they skirted the smoldering building to find a car.

They drove away into an easing sunset.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos and a note on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #whumptober2023

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scorpiongrassfield · 1 year

Text

The Room Feels Safe

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It’s kind of messy though. Bedside table in disarray, clothes hamper turned on its side with clothes spilling out, bed unmade.

Ah well. You are here uninvited. Whoever lives here didn’t get a chance to clean up for company.

“Here kitty kitty,” you call to Concrete.

It ignores you in favor of sitting on the bed. It’s suspiciously quiet now that you’re in the room though, so you do suspect it wants your attention anyway.

You give it a pat on the head and it presses into your hand.

A smile appears on your face uninvited.

You’re tempted to sit down and rest with Concrete, but it feels like it would be rude to sit on someone else’s bed uninvited.

“Buttercups are… childishness. For all the good and the bad that brings,” Theo says.

You look around the room again. The only visible exit is the door you came through.

Glancing down at your soggy shoes and the wet footprints you’ve left on the carpet, you think that maybe you don’t want to go back in there.

Another option will surely show itself.

“Oh?” Pat says, and you can practically see them raising an eyebrow based on the tone of voice. “What’s bad about childishness?”

“Oh. Ah. Perhaps I misspoke,” Theo says.

While this is all very interesting, you figure you should probably look for some clues while you listen.

You check the bedside table over again, opening up the drawers this time.

“It’s not that being childish is bad necessarily. She is younger than me. It’s normal that she acts accordingly. It’s just…” Theo trails off.

In the bottom drawer you find a book of pressed flowers, which are very pretty but ultimately unhelpful unless you learn more about flower language.

In the top drawer you find a glasses case. It’s empty.

You have a lost pair of glasses in your pocket.

You can’t be sure that this is where they belong.

But the shadow pointed you to them.

And the shadow knows its way around the kitchen here.

And the shadow’s portrait was hiding the door to this particular area of the cabin.

It wouldn’t be too out of line to assume that this might be the shadow’s bedroom.

“It’s just that I think she might be a bit old to throw such violent temper tantrums,” Theo confesses.

You put the glasses back in their case.

Nothing notable happens. You aren’t sure what you were expecting.

Oh well.

You’ll leave them there. Your pockets are pretty heavy even without them.

“She?” Pat prompts.

“My sister. She uh. She tends to not be very happy with the choices I make…” Theo mumbles.

There doesn’t seem to be much else interesting in the side table.

When you turn around to look elsewhere, you realize the door is gone.

In its place is a painting, another portrait.

You move closer to inspect it, and Concrete hops down from the bed to run between your feet. You almost trip, but manage to stay upright.

This portrait is of Theo.

As best as you can tell, its supposed to be Theo hanging upside down from a tree by his foot. His sweater is rucked enough to expose soft stomach and twin scars across his chest. His hands are behind his back. He seems completely at peace with his situation.

However. The painting is upside down.

The canopy of the tree is at the bottom and Theo’s head is at the top.

You put your hands on the frame to try and turn the painting right side up.

“Please don’t. I’m not ready,” Theo’s voice says, frantic.

The Theo in the painting’s eyes are open now, looking right at you. He looks incredibly frightened.

What will you do?

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years

Text

The Babysitters: Eddie Munson x Reader (Part II)

Summary: You and Eddie had always had a flirtatious relationship, but when you get pulled into the Upside Down the both of you realise that maybe you wanted something more than that.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Tags: fluff

A/N: Hi guys! This one was supposed to be hell short but it accidentally got super long so I’ve split it in two. Part II is already up!

Part I

When the five of you had successfully traversed the rope that led you out of the Upside Down and into Eddie’s trailer, Dustin, Lucas and Max immediately began bombarding you with a multitude of questions.

“I can’t believe you were dumb enough to go through watergate,” Dustin said.

“Did you see Vecna?” Lucas questioned.

“Why are you bleeding?” Max asked, causing Dustin and Lucas to look straight towards you.

“Oh my God, ew” Lucas exclaimed, walking backwards in horror at the sight of your wounds. Max, instead, moved closer.

“Cool,” Dustin said. “You’ll probably get some super sick scars!”

“Dustin, are you serious?” Eddie chastised but stopped at the sound of your laughter.

“Yeah, I suppose the scars will be kinda cool,” you responded.

“Keep an eye out for rabies symptoms,” Robin chimed in.

“Why were you guys back at Wheeler’s place anyway? I thought you were going to wait for us by the lake,” Steve said.

“Well it’s a good thing we didn’t since you guys took forever,” Dustin responded.

“Plus we got arrested,” Max said.

“Arrested!” Steve exclaimed.

“We weren’t technically arrested,” Dustin began.

“Hey,” you said softly, turning towards Eddie as the other’s continued on in their argument.

“Hey,” he said back tenderly.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare shirt I could borrow, would you? It’s just that my bathers are kinda all ripped up and it’s freezing and-”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Eddie hastily interjected. “Sorry, I should have offered before.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said as you followed Eddie into his room.

You weren’t quite sure what you had expected Eddie’s bedroom to be like, but the sight that you were met with was so completely Eddie that you had to hide a giggle that threatened to escape your lips. Posters of rock bands covered almost every wall. There was a prominent aroma of weed that hung in the air, intermingled with whatever deodorant Eddie used. The bedsheets were scattered haphazardly on the bed, the rest of the floor covered with clothes which were almost all of a black variety.

“Sorry, I would have cleaned if I had known I was having people over,” Eddie said sheepishly, hastily trying to collect as many items from the floor as he could.

“No-no, it’s fine. My room’s the same so don’t worry,” you responded.

“Um, t-take a seat,” Eddie said, pointing to his bed. “I just need to find something that’s clean.”

You perched yourself upon the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as the skin around your wounds shifted and moved. You didn’t notice as Eddie glanced back towards you with a concerned look upon his features.

“We should probably disinfect your wounds. I think I have a bottle of vodka around here that we can use,” Eddie said, his head half buried in the drawer he was searching through.

You scrunched your face in detest at the mere thought of the pain that the alcohol would elicit.

“Just give me a couple of extra minutes to get used to the pain I’m already in before we do anything else,” you responded.

“Right,” Eddie said. “Sorry.”

Eddie walked the short distance back to you and handed you a black crewneck jumper.

“I know you asked for a shirt but you said it was cold and this will probably be big on you so it won’t rub up against your wounds as much but I can get you a shirt if you want-”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you interjected his ramblings with a small smile curling onto your features. “This is perfect.”

Before you donned the jumper, you looked down at your bathers hesitantly, wondering whether you should attempt the painful process of extracting the fabric from your skin. Just as you had decided that that job could be saved for later, Eddie spoke up.

“I could help you if you need.”

A blush crept up your cheeks just as Eddie’s own face turned a flaming red as he realised what he had just offered.

“No! I mean…no! I didn’t mean it like that I just wanted to be helpful!” Eddie brought his hands up to rub at his face. “Sorry. Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean…I should go and get Nancy or Robin.”

Eddie hung his head as he hastily ran for the door.

“Eddie,” you said with a slight laugh. Eddie paused just before the door and hesitantly turned back to look at you. “It’s okay. I’ll keep everything on until I get back home.” Eddie let out a sigh.

You gingerly took off Eddie’s leather jacket and pulled on his jumper instead. It had the logo of a band on the front, you realised, but what band specifically you weren’t quite sure. The bed dipped slightly as Eddie came to sit next to you.

“Sorry I’m being so useless,” Eddie began. “I’m just not used to these kind of situations and-”

“Are you being serious?” you interrupted. “Eddie, you literarily saved my life today.”

A blush crept up Eddie’s cheeks.

“Well, yeah, I suppose. But that’s only because I got there first. If Harrington or Nancy or Robin had gotten there before me than they would have done the same.”

“Stop being so humble, Munson. It doesn’t suit you,” you said with a smile causing a small laugh to escape from Eddie’s lips. “Sorry I got blood all over your shirt,” you continued, pointing down to the large red patch that covered the bottom half of Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can find it in my heart one day to forgive you,” Eddie responded. “Plus I think it adds to my aesthetic.”

“Oh, for sure,” you said. “It really feeds into the whole satanic blood sacrifice thing you’ve got going on.”

A large laugh escaped from Eddie’s throat and you couldn’t help but marvel at it. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed as the beautiful sound filled the air. It was a nice laugh, so genuine and natural that it always had you wanting to elicit another. When Eddie reopened his eyes, he turned to look back at you, and suddenly the air between you grew altogether more serious. The two of you sat like that for some time, a silence growing between the two of you that had grown so thick it was almost palpable. It made it hard to breath as you looked at him, beautiful brown eyes looking so intently back at you.

“I thought I was going to lose you there for a second,” Eddie whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.”

A breath hitched in your throat at his words. You felt like saying something witty. You felt like breaking whatever it was that lingered in the air between you with a quick joke or a snide remark.

“I thought I was going to die,” you said back instead, surprising yourself. “But then you were there with that oar and I knew I was going to be alright.”

Somewhere during the length of your conversation your face had slowly inched closer to Eddie’s so that now you were practically inches apart. You felt his breath upon your skin, warm and familiar. You could smell him as well, his scent thick with smoke and yet vastly comforting. You could feel heat emanating off of him and you wondered for a split second how he was so warm when you were still so cold.

And then you could taste him.

Whether you were the one to close the distance between the two of you or whether it was Eddie, you weren’t altogether quite sure. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as his lips moved against yours, his touch gentle and yet desperate as you inhaled each other. The kiss was slow, so tantalisingly slow as if Eddie was half expecting you to pull away. But when you brought one hand up to rest upon his cheek and the other to tangle in his hair, he relaxed into your touch. He brought his own hand to rest upon your cheek, wanting to rest the other one upon your waist but thinking better of it and instead bringing it to rest on your leg that sat between the two of you. He tasted surprisingly sweet as you deepened the kiss.

And although you would have preferred to spend the remainder of the day wrapped up in Eddie’s arms just as you were, although you were quite sure that you could spend the rest of your life kissing Eddie Munson, the burning in your lungs said otherwise. You pulled away hesitantly, not wanting his touch to go. The air was filled with heavy breathing for quite some time before either of you spoke.

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked at him.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, his smile coming to mirror yours.

“The kids are probably out there waiting for us,” you said.

“I think the kids can give Mommy and Daddy some alone time for once,” Eddie responded before he hooked one arm around your neck and connected his lips back to yours.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #season 4 stranger things #steve harrington #joseph quinn #joe quinn

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gay4abby · 2 years

Note

Reader cleans up Robins wounds?

ෆ pairing. robin buckley x fem!reader

ෆ word count. TBA

ෆ warnings. blood , minor cuts & bruises , cursing , a bit of angst if u squint (not proof read !! but when do i ever cheque , n e ways hope u enjoy !)

“if you had just listened to me, we would not be here right now.” a scowl appeared on your face as you wiped away the blood oozing from the wound she received during the battle in the upside down. she sat quiet, unrelenting as she let you take care of her. a warmth blooming from her heart as she watched you intently and carefully clean her wounds. robin hissed lightly at the pressure, muttering a soft sorry to her as you blew your cold breath on to the lesion. robin couldn’t describe just how much the small gesture soothed her, heart rate picking up and hoping you didn’t hear with how close you were to her chest.

you pulled back to see your finished work after covering up the wound, moving on to work on the gash that was across her sweaty forehead. you both were in your bedroom, on the floor the fan silently blowing the two of you as you concentrated heavily on the task at hand. robin didn’t want to ruin your focus, opting to just stare at you instead. she didn’t know what to think. on the way to the upside down, she was frantic on the inside. eyes constantly darting to you whenever you so moved a slight inch. the original plan was to go with max, erica and lucas to henry’s old house, but she cut that short real quick, yelling in your face to stay with her.

all you gave her was an incredulous look and a nod before moving to sit next to her as steve drove off. robin’s hand intertwined with your own; clammy hands meeting dry ones. she never let go of your hand the entire ride to eddie’s trailer, everything else after that became a blur. she almost lost you and you her. she was just relieved to have you in her presence after the final battle.

the gash on her forehead was pretty deep, making her hiss once more before she pulled away. you looked at her with sympathy, opting to take a break before you continue. “let’s take a break, yeah?” she nodded, moving to pull you into her lap, hiding her wince as she took your arms and wrapped it around her shoulders. you both were staring at one another. it was pretty peculiar for robin to be this quiet, the eccentric girl always finding a way to make conversation even if it was one sided. it made you wonder what was going on in her head that she couldn’t just let out.

“everything ok-”

“i almost lost yo-” you both were speaking at the same time, shutting your mouths to let the other speak. when you both realised one wasn’t going to go before the other, robin spoke up. “i almost lost you. i almost lost you today,” her voice cracked. she couldn’t stop staring into your eyes. it was a bit overwhelming, robin’s gaze. it’s as though she’s slowly unraveling your layers of everything you want to hide, you can be completely transparent with her and yet somehow she’ll find more things to uncover; layers you sometimes didn’t even know existed.

“he almost had you and i thought my world was going to crash. i only did it because i wanted to save you.” she spoke the last part of her sentence quietly. robin moved her hands around your waist, clutching on to you for dear life. “as long as you’re here to clean my wounds, i would do it over and over again,” she finished, your breath catching in your throat at her confession. scolding her was on your mind, but with a confession like that the feeling simmered down to a low hum, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself and her in heaps of blankets away from the world. protected and warm.

you lick your lips, exhaling through your nose softly and eyes dwindling with care. care for robin and her well being. “you got hurt. you just fucking expected me to be okay with that? it could’ve been worse if things didn’t work out. do you know that?”

“do you know that you’re also dating someone who’s impulsive?” that shut you up. your lips pursed as you grabbed the antiseptic and cloth, returning to clean the gash on her forehead. a sizzling feeling of distress resided in the pit of your stomach. it was there, but barely. you couldn’t be upset at the hyperactive girl forever. she hissed once more as you applied a bit of force to her forehead, only doing so since she made you upset.

your eyes quickly softened, placing a large gauze over the gash. your eyes avoided hers, quickly pressing a kiss to gauze before moving around a bit to get up from her lap. robin had other ideas as she kept you in place with her arms wrapping themselves completely around your waist. “you know i wouldn’t deliberately put myself in danger if i know we both make it out alive.”

“you’re lying. you told me three weeks ago that you would sacrifice your soul just so i can see metallica live.”

“fair…point. but still! that keeps me alive, right?”

“technically no if your life is no longer belongs to you.” she groaned, tossing her head back against the edge of the mattress before she raised her head again to look at you under the dim room lighting. you always had to refute her somehow. she was silently captivated by your beauty, slightly shaking her head. “all i’m saying is, we should be bask in the now. we’re both here – and queer, and we should be happy about that, baby!”

you took a moment, eyeing the gauze on her head. injuries littering all across her flushed face. you moved your hands to cup her cheeks, squeezing them a little to make her look like blowfish. you giggled lightly, robin mimicking you with her own laughter and hands. “nothing’s ever going to come between you and me because i said so.” she shifted her butt on the carpeted floor, never taking her eyes off you. leaning up, she placed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose immediately going towards your lips to connect them.

you both sat there kissing one another slowly before pulling away, pressing her forehead against your own careful not yo brush over the gauze covered wound. “i’m just glad you’re here.”

“me too, baby.”

#robin buckley x reader #‹𝟥 requests #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine

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iveseenstrangerthings · 2 years

Text

nightmare from the upside down - a Steve Harrington imagine

summary: An angsty/comfort Steve x reader imagine where Steve calls for reader’s help after he is attacked in the upside down. However, the reader was unaware of everything to do with the upside down, so comes to learn about it after being faced with a living nightmare.

warnings: slightly graphic mentions of cuts and injuries and lots of mentions of blood, also some swearing.

word count: 2.8k

note: i got the idea for this imagine from two imagines (which I’ll link for inspo) and they were fab so inspired me to want to have a go at writing my own ! weird-is-life imagine upsidedownwithsteve imagine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He feels broken. Utterly, and completely, broken. His body is adorned with thick, deep gashes which ache and throb. He breathes in through gritted teeth, wincing and swearing under his breath as he places pressure on the worst wounds to try and stem the flow of warm blood which runs from the cuts on his stomach and chest.

“God, please go slower on the corners.” He says through harsh, gritted teeth as Nancy navigates her way back to Steve’s house. The remainder of the journey becomes a blur as he almost becomes disengaged with the world around him as he pulses and aches with pain.

Much to Nancy and Robin’s dismay, Steve refused their help and did not want them to call you. He didn’t want you to see him how he was, not right now. So, they saw him into his house and helped him upstairs where he encouraged them to leave, he needed to be alone to clean himself off.

Soon after they depart, he stumbles into the bathroom where he manages to find some antiseptic fluid and douse his chest and stomach with it. His body curls in unfathomable pain as the liquid burns into the vulnerable open wounds peppering his body and he lets out a loud, almost inhumane shriek. Thank God he’s home alone. Following the antiseptic fluid, his body starts into a fit of violent shakes, the pain becomes intolerable and a sudden wooziness washes over him. He suddenly feels upset with himself for turning down Robin’s offer to call you. He wants you here, he needs you here. But he doesn’t want you to see him like this. Plus, you don’t know about the Upside Down, it’s something Steve has chosen to keep from you. But now he’s regretting it.

Placing his hands on his bathroom counter, he steadies himself and closes his eyes tightly, breathing through the seemingly never-ending waves of pain. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes and studies his wounds in the mirror. The main marks he’d covered with antiseptic, they just needed dressing. The others on his arm and neck are minor, but bad enough to be noticeable. He simply shakes some more antiseptic liquid onto a cloth and presses it to his arms and neck, but they don’t need a lot, luckily the skin isn’t broken as much as the other parts of him. Still, it stings, and his eyes water with each new sear of pain that ripples through him. He’s thankful when he finally plasters over his gashes and walks slowly over to his bed, not even bothering to turn down the sheets. With the adrenaline finally starting to alleviate, he falls into a pattern of restless sleep.

As the first signs of early morning light cast a hazy radiance over his bedroom, his eyes feel gritty and uncomfortable after he opens them following his night of broken sleep. The pain never really subsided during the night and his bandages have become loosely detached from his skin from the blood that’s seeped through. However, the bleeding doesn’t seem too bad right now, he expected worse.

Steadily, he sits up and lets the pain radiate for a few minutes, trying to adjust to it before standing up for fear he could fall. What am I doing.. He’s still all alone and his thoughts of wanting you to be here are still with him, so he reaches for the phone and dials your number. He has no idea what time it is, all he knows is that you’ll come.

After only a few rings, you answer. “Hello?” Your voice is thick with sleep, and he realises how early it must be.

He swallows hard, placing a hand instinctively over the plaster covering one of his worst wounds on his stomach. “(y/n)?” Is all he could muster.

“Steve?” Your voice perks slightly but you can sense something off, “Sweetheart is everything okay it’s like 5am?”

Shit. it’s way too early to have rung you and he suddenly feels immensely guilty, “I uh,” he starts then realises he’s never going to mask the immeasurable pain he’s in, “I need you to come over.”

“Steve, what’s going on are you sick?” You’re quick to question, but Steve can already hear you moving out of bed and around your room.

He shakes his head, then realises you can’t see, “No, well, no I don’t know. I just need you, please.” His voice, usually confident and lively is laced with obvious hurt.

The line goes silent for a few seconds and his head becomes heavy with the onset of a headache, “Okay, hold tight I’ll leave soon.” And with that you hang up. He appreciates the lack of questioning and silently thanks you for it.

You live the other side of town so, whilst he has time, Steve tries to get up to go in the shower. In the bathroom, he peels off the bandages and leaves them on the countertop, heavy with his blood. The sight of his reflection is enough to turn his stomach so he shuts his eyes for a few minutes and just breathes deeply, trying to regain his composure so he can muster up the strength to try and have a shower.

Your car mounts Steve’s driveway and you slam it into park, your sense of urgency and impatience grew the closer you got to Steve’s house. Every possibility was going through your head on the drive here, was he hurt? Was he sick? Had he had a bad dream? You couldn’t come to a conclusion that seemed probable where he needed you there with such necessity. In your hand, you have the spare key ready expecting the door to be unlocked, but when you try it and it’s open, your suspicions only grow.

Once you enter the Harrington house, you kick your shoes off and head straight for the stairs, taking two at a time. The sound of the running water lets you know he’s showering, so once you reach the bathroom door you knock softly. “Steve?” You announce loud enough so that he can hear over the water. When you hear no reply, you start to open the door and the water abruptly shuts off.

“No!” He calls out, as you’re just opening the door, so you pause, “No please just give me a minute.” Winces and sharp inhales are heard as he grabs a towel to wrap around himself to dry off. You are dumbfounded and standing out in the hallway with your brows furrowed tightly together, obeying his wishes. You wait a few minutes then something stirs in you, something deep in your gut feels awfully wrong.

Not wanting to go into the bathroom, you knock softly again on the door, “Baby? Please let me in.” Your voice is soft, hoping to sooth him slightly from whatever he’s going through. When you receive no reply, you follow your gut and gently push open the door where you’re met with his back, painted with scratches and what look like bites, realising that no voice will be able to sooth him from this. Your face softens immediately, and when he turns slowly to face you, you’re met with more gashes. Some deep, red raw cuts sit across his chest and more bite-looking marks are dotted on his stomach. As your eyes travel from each wound, you finally land on a thin, bloodshot line that wraps perfectly around his neck. At last, after you’d seen enough of his beaten body, you look up at his face which is tired and grimaced in pain, evidence of hot tears still sitting on his cheeks and in his eyelashes. “Oh…” You breathe as your fingers make your way up to cover your mouth, “Oh my god.” He has a pair of jogging pants on but remains topless, obviously in too much pain to try and fit one on.

“Can you help me put on some fresh dressings?” His voice is weak, and your heart feels heavy, the sight of him will stay with you for a very long time. You nod quickly as he leans against the counter, “The antiseptic and everything is in the cabinet.” He points his thumb behind him at the mirror, so you open it carefully and take out what you need. He says no more, you know what to do from here. Pushing down the cap and twisting it free from the child-lock, you unscrew it and place it on the countertop. The bandages are large, pre-cut squares made from a thick gauze-like material, so you peel the paper back from one and pour a small amount of antiseptic fluid on. You’ve already seen a nasty wound which you want to cover first, so you look up to Steve who’s staring emptily at the wall ahead, anticipating the sharp, biting sting soon to come.

“Okay, gonna do the first one. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” You whisper in a hushed tone as you place the bandage over the laceration and his body immediately flinches with the sharp pain cutting into his side. A groan of pain escapes him, and he takes sharp inhales through his teeth as his hand lands on your shoulder and grips it tightly. “Fuck.” He breathes through gritted teeth. It feels like you’re torturing him, and you want to stop. You want to stop and almost wake up; you feel like you’re living in a nightmare. “You’re just gonna have to keep going, (y/n). Please.” He’s almost begging you to just get it over with quickly, so you start to prepare the next bandage. Whilst you continue, you start to think over what on Earth could have caused this much damage to Steve, and you’re unsure if you really do want to know.

About fifteen agonising minutes later, you’re done bandaging Steve and are helping him back through to his bedroom. He’s walking fine, so his legs must be relatively unharmed, all the injuries seem to accumulate on his upper half. You stop him so you can re-arrange his pillows so they’re all propped up and he can sit up against them. “Here, lay back here.” You gently guide him to the bed where you ease him back against his pillows, which you’ve noticed are already stained with darkened, old blood. You stay perched on the side of his bed, holding his hand in yours and you’re relieved when he squeezes it back. With your other hand, you place it on his cheek and lean over to place a fine kiss there. “I’m gonna get you a drink and some painkillers, okay?”

He opens his eyes to look at you and they’re sunken and tired, “Thank you.” He nods.

Quickly, you go down to grab the water and painkillers then rush back upstairs, uneasy about leaving him alone for longer than you need to. He’s propped up so you encourage his head forward by placing one hand on the back of his head, dropping the tablets into his hand. He pops them into his mouth then takes the glass from your hand to wash them down. A small trickle of water trails down his chin so you quickly wipe it away with your thumb and you keep it there for a few seconds, brushing it back and forth.

For the last half an hour or so, your adrenaline has kept you going, kept you focussed on getting here, then dressing his wounds and getting him comfortable. Now, that seems to have exhausted, and you feel an unbelievable amount of sadness that the person who means the most to you is in so much pain. Tears well in your eyes, which Steve notices so he places his hand on the side of your head, weaving his fingers into your hair and clasping it between his fingers, pulling you closer so your foreheads are resting on one another. Soon enough, you both allow your tears to fall, your throat becoming intensely tight as you feel more hot tears disperse. “Baby, what happened to you?” a hoarse plead escapes you as you keep your hand rests on his cheek, wiping his tears away with a soft glide of your thumb.

He waits a few seconds before pulling away from you, slipping his hand down to rest on your legs. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” Your breath hitches and you will him to continue. “This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but please hear me out.”

And he was right, it did sound absolutely crazy. Everything was so difficult to make sense of. A completely different world existed that somehow everyone else knew about it, but you. He struggles to vocalise what happened last night, but he does as you stroke his hand reassuringly. If the circumstances had been different, you’d have flipped your shit. However, with the way Steve is and everything he just described, you need to just be there for him. “Steve why didn’t you tell me about all this?” Your voice stays quiet, hardly becoming more than a gentle whisper.

He shakes his head, “I don’t want you messed up in all that shit. Do you think I’d want this to be you?” He gestures to all the wounds covering his body and another tear rolls down your cheek. You curse him under your breath for thinking like that.

“I don’t want any objections,” you start, maintaining strict eye contact with him, “but next time I am absolutely getting messed up in all that shit.” You shake your head with utter disbelief that Steve is lying in front of you in such a state. “I never wanna see you like this again.” You kiss his hand softly and hold it to your lips for a few seconds. “You’re gonna be okay.” You try to add reassuringly.

He smiles and feels grateful that you’ve reacted with such calmness to what he’s just told you, “Yeah we will revisit that statement when I don’t feel like shit.” He smiles tiredly, and you recognise how exhausted he is.

“You comfy? How’re those painkillers doing?” Your hand goes up to his hairline and you brush your fingers through his hair, still wet from his shower. He hums a response and closes his eyes in comfort at the feel of your fingers on his scalp.

As you move to grab a blanket to cover him with, he opens his eyes and looks for you. “Wait, where’re you-“but when he sees you moving back towards him with the blanket he sighs in relief. The blanket is a large, soft light brown colour that covers Steve and you’re mindful that you’ll have to wash everything thoroughly to remove any remnants of his injuries. You’re extremely careful to not press the blanket down to where any of his other unbandaged smaller wounds sit, as they required less attention. “Will you lay with me?”

You nod your head immediately, “Sure.” Your voice is so soft that you’re sure if there was any bit of noise in the room it would’ve been inaudible. Steadily, making sure you don’t put any of your weight onto him, you shuffle close to him and wrap you both under the blanket where you manage to find a spot on his shoulder that you can rest your head comfortably. The pair of you are quiet for a few minutes, so quiet that you’re sure Steve has dropped off to sleep, however you’re wide awake and your mind is too busy to invite any feelings of sleepiness.

Out of nowhere, you feel Steve take a deep breath then he says, “I think, with everything that just happened,” he clears his throat a couple times before continuing, “It made me realise how much I do love you. I found myself worrying about you and just wanting to protect you.” Your heart quickens slightly, this is the first time he’s said anything like this. Neither of you have shared the idea that you love one another, however you’re sure you’ve both felt it for some time. “You mean the world to me.” He finds your hand under the blanket and gives it a small squeeze with all the energy he can muster.

You feel tears well in your eyes again and you clasp back at his hand, “Oh sweetie.” You still just can’t believe the predicament you’re both in, “I love you too, so much. I can’t lose you.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He lets out a small laugh and turns his head to place a kiss atop of your own. “I promise.”

As the morning light starts to get brighter, the sound of passing cars become more prevalent with everyone starting their day as normal. As you think that, you can’t help but realise that both of your lives will never be the same. You understand that Steve’s changed a long time ago, but you want to be a part of that now, too. You don’t want to lose Steve; you want to be there for him, and you want to help. As more time passes, Steve’s breathing becomes particularly heavy and relaxed and you’re glad he’s managed to find sleep, although you know you certainly won’t be sleeping, you close your eyes to try and match his breathing rhythm. Feeling eternally grateful that you still have him here, by your side.

#stranger things imagine #stranger things blurbs #stranger things preferences #stranger things imagines #masterlist #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington comfort

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Prince Hans x Servant/Maid!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Hans likes to purposely trash his bedroom so you have to clean it and cant leave until its done.

Warnings: Sexual tension and smuttiness. Hans being an aristocratic douche.

Looking around the room, boom in one hand and bucket full of hot, soapy water and rags tugging down the other arm, you can just think... that utter bastard.

Prince Hans' bedroom is a total pigsty, which is not out of character for him as he likes to make life hard for you in a multitude of different ways, including this one, but still very much frustrates you- every time. There are socks and cravats tangled up in his bedsheets, which are all kicked down to the bottom of the mattress, a quick headcount tells you that there are well over 15 cups and plates littered about, some of which are on their side of upside down leaving a sticky trail all over the desk and the little tea table and also the ones by his bed, his muddy boots are strewn all over the ground leaving muddy tracks that probably contain cow shit, too, and hay from the stables as well, and to top it all off he piled the fireplace far too high with wood and now ash is all over the floor for feet in front of its bounds.

For a good moment you don't dare move, you just stand there glaring at the room, wondering how bad selling yourself to a brothel could really be compared to this cruel and unusual torture, clenching your hands so tight they almost make a noise. This smug fuck- No, I don't care that he's a prince-

As if rubbing salt into the wound, said smug fuck prances past you and to the only neat spot in the bedroom - the window seat, - , picks up a book, a quill, and map and gets comfortable. Smirking, he dips the quill carefully for a good moment into the ink pot he has already left on the windowsill beside him, not looking at you though you know his entire attention is on you; Causing frustrated, disgusted shivers to race up your spine as you casually straighten up. "Well, you better get to it Y/N. This place is a wreck."

He says that as if its somehow my fault! Eye twitching, you only just glare murderously at his downturned, flaming red head before going to the complete other side of the room, turning your back on him so as to potentially, hopefully, forget he's there, and frustrated get started.

To begin with, you collect the trays that other servants have brought in his meals on and stack them, before balancing those carefully on one hand and going around picking up the plates, cups, butter dishes and cutlery. You manage to fit most of it safely on there and go for the door to carry it all back to the kitchen to get it out of the way; Prepared to offer your deepest apologies to the kitchen staff that need to wash all this. And Hans is a picky fucking eater, too, so theirs plenty left over that someone will have to soak and scrape off into the garbage. The unfortunate prick.

Just as you're touching your free hand to the door handle though, a scuffle can be heard behind you and you feel Hans walk over close behind you. A hand finds your waist gently and his voice is low when he speaks. "Where do you think you're going?"

To find something for long, and very sharp, to shove up your- "Just to return all this to the kitchens, your highness."

A dark chuckle prickles your bare neck, hair tied up gracefully in order to keep it out of your face while you work and look tidy as you can, for your 'employers'. "No, you're not." What does he mean I'm 'not', yes I am- " Hans leans passed you, front pressing into your back, and pushes open the door that you unlocked. "Lisa!"

Your stomach drops when he calls out her name down the hall, a look of apology and pity already taking hold on your features as the timid maid comes rushing from around a corner, responding to your princes summons. "Y-you called, your highness?" Her eyes are wide and naïve, looking mostly past you to Hans but flickering to you like she cant help it, like she wants to say hello but knows its inappropriate in front of Hans. You flash her a kind smile, even as your stomach fills up with acid at being in this situation. It just feels wrong, handing on work to someone else. You're on the same level, and yet just because Hans has some sick obsession with you, you're forced into inadvertently acting like you're better then her. You realise that maybe she doesn't see it that way, but it feels like it. And it feels disgusting.

"As a matter a fact." Hans says in an almost sickly soft tone in way of admittance, almost acting nice, before taking the heavy trays from you and dropping them a little too hazardously in Lisa's arms. "Here," Eyes widening, you step forward and away from him far enough to help her balance them, telling her to put her hands like this, and keep it close to your chest okay? It'll take the pressure off your wrists.

Lisa's eyes flicker from the trays to you, a thankful light turning on behind them, as she gets them balanced.

Then Hans curls some fingers between the bow tying your apron around your waist and your clothing, and drags you carefully back. You roll your eyes, beyond annoyed by this gesture as heat boils in your chest and lower belly as you fight not to groan. Why did he have to touch you. You shouldn't enjoy it, but you do. It would be a lot easier for you if he would just stop. " -Take those to the kitchen to get cleaned, thanks."

Then, with those arrogant words, the Prince assumedly - since you aren't facing him, - flashes one of his famous, soulless grins, and closes the door in her face before you even have to time to waive. Bye.

Whipping around on him immediately, your eyes flash in anger. "I could've done that."

He shrugs. "I know, but I need you here." Suddenly he comes forward, pressing a hand to the wall by your head and leaning his face in close to yours- a mean, evil smirk on his handsome face. "I prefer you, to be here. You know that."

Desperately then, you wanted to say something. To snap at him. Tell him what you prefer. You even start to, a dangerously disrespectful tone present in your voice. "I prefer... " But choke up. You cant say a ting to him. He likes it too much, and you can tell by the way his lips curl up even more cruelly then before, when you uttered those first two words. And you just cant bare to please the smug, arrogant dick anymore then you already must, so you snap your mouth closed again, and take in a deep breath through your nose; Glaring straight into his face as you do. In your head at least you're screaming fuck you. "I prefer... to do my own work."

He opens his mouth to talk, but you cut him off, and take at least a little pleasure from that. "But if you wish for me to stay here, I will." I don't have a choice.

His lips pull back into a smirk. "Well, I think you should do the bed next. That's what I wish, now."

"Yes your highness."

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, you think slipping away from him and going maybe a little too slowly towards the bed. This is always where things go south. You can already feel yourself throbbing.

First you need to strip it, you tell yourself. Come on, you know how to make a bed. This should be easy for you. Don't pay attention to Hans.

And you would just love to follow those instructions. Get the bed done without looking at him, or talking to him if at all possible, finish the rest of the room and go home with nothing new on your conscience- it would be refreshing. But its hard to do that when he touches you.

As soon as you return to a regular position from leaning down to gather up all the socks and cravats from the sheets, Hans is upon you. Hans agonisingly on your hips rather then wrapped around you, and you hate that you hate him for not touching you more. God, what you would give to hit him.

Sighing, you drop the armful of accessories to the floor go to continue your job, boldly twisting your hips as to shake his hands off and heading to the other side of the bed, tugging the sheets all the way off before plucking the pillows off onto the same pile as well.

Ignoring Hans watching you with that twisted, amused grin - he likes it when you 'play' like he doesn't bother you as much you affect him, - , you move to the closet and open the doors wide before gathering the extra, clean bedding inside and setting it down on the chest at the end of the bed. You're just going through them, figuring out what's what, when Hans finds his way over to you again. This time he sets himself down on the chest beside the bedding and smooths a hand down from your waist, over your hip, to your thigh. When his thumb starts to inch inward, you pick up his middle finger and pick his hand away from you, escaping around the bed again with the first layer sheet. Acting like he's nothing but an irritating little bug, even when his touches leave a fire behind on your skin.

You throw the sheet out across the bed, and you both watch it float down to the mattress. As soon as it touches down though, your moment of reprieve is over, as Hans hops up and follows you again, catching you this time. His arm encircles your waist, tugging your body back against him and you sigh. Fuck, you think, as a realisation hits you at being pressed to him.

He's hard.

Still, though, you do your work; Bending forward to neaten out the sheet without a lazy expression on face. But when you stand up straight once again, Hans arm gets stiffer and a gloved hand takes hold of your chin, turning you to face him. Him and his stupid pretty eyes, and soft auburn hair, and kissable mouth. Your eyes flicker down to that part of his face before you can stop yourself; Having been too wrapped up in your game.

"Y/N... " Eyes flashing up to his eyes as his genuinely annoying voice clears through the air, and your eyes narrow. His face is serious, and theirs a dark glint in his eyes. "Game over."

Immediately you rip your face out of his grip and face the bed again, going to straighten it out some more and avoid your ruin - his conquest, - but theirs nothing to do unless you can get out of his arms and that's not going to happen; Either by him not letting go or you not being able to make yourself fight against him. Probably, a combination.

"I'm not playing any games with you, your highness, you asked me to make your bed and I'm doing tha- " While you were talking, he had twisted his hips and rolled his hard manhood into your ass; Causing your eyes to widen and a gasp to slip out of you as your groin starts to get hotter.

Then he does it; He chuckles. In that frustrating, evil, mean, annoying way you hate and its over. You grit your teeth, trying for just a moment to gather your dignity and your wits, but its futile as your heart's beating so loudly you can hear it in your ears and you whirl around, catching sight of that hot smirk that shows his canines just before you dig your fingers angrily into the material covering his chest and drag him down- Connecting your lips and your tongue in a messy, wanting to kiss that drives you even madder. You tilt your head as to have more of him, and guide him back towards his bed, opening your legs for him to climb between them when you're laid out below him.

The way he rocks down and grinds his hips into yours drives you insane; An unfortunate type of magic that only you're privy to. Hans lets go of your lips with one last suck to your bottom one, enjoying everything you have for him, before slowing down his thrusts and rearing back above you just to watch how the change in pace tortures you below. You glare at him hatefully as she does this, even as your face is hotter then lava and he can absolutely tell how much you want him, because you cant help it. Because you hate his guts, and he needs to know that. Even as he fucks you.

He looks like he wants to say something this time, where he hasn't said a damn thing the last consecutive times you've done this together. For a whole moment he looks like he's fighting himself to tell you something, his grinds against you getting pathetic as he cares not to keep you happy as he thinks... before he growls, shakes his head and straightens up in order to unbuckle his own belt as you grit your teeth and do away with your own bottoms.

Maybe he'll tell you next time, he thinks. Maybe.

For now he'll just have what's his.

#Prince Hans x Reader #Disney Prince Hans x Reader #Prince Hans x Reader Drabble #Disney Prince Hans x Reader Drabble #Drabble #Prince Hans #Disney Prince Hans #Disney Villains x Reader #Disney Villains #Disney Villan #Disney Villain x Reader #Disney Villain x Reader Drabble

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bbdaydreams · 3 years

Text

Baby Formula

TikTok inspo

a/n: @pinoyrella and I back at it again with laughing at TikToks and coming up with ideas.

Character: Sanzu Haruchiyo

Summary: Sanzu made a small mess with the formula trying to make a bottle for his daughter

Warning: drug mention (cocaine)

Sanzu was never completely sure he wanted a child until his daughter was born. They were the perfect mixture of you and him, he loved her with all his heart. It was clear he cherished them and wouldn’t try to put them in harms way so you trusted him to take care of your child alone while he encouraged you to get some sleep in your shared bedroom.

But you weren’t the only one lacking sleep, he was as well. Drifting in and out of sleep while his daughter laid on their play mat he noticed that it was almost nap time for them.

“Stay put, I’ll be right back princess. Daddy’s going to make you a bottle.” She looked up at him and babbled which made him smile and press a kiss against her cheek before getting up.

Getting to the kitchen, he added water to the electric kettle and flicked the switch to let the water boil before taking out the formula tub from the designated baby cabinet as well as a clean bottle. Everything was now set up as how you’ve taught him to prepare. Grabbing the scoop he put the required amount into the bottle but most of it spilt out. Letting out a sigh he turned the bottle upside down to let what did get in go back into the container and tried again, this time succeeding.

Deciding to clean up while the water cooled down he placed the bottle somewhere else and started looking around for a towel to clean the countertop. Not finding any and not wanting to get his hands dirty, he opted for an old trick. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a credit card from his wallet. Collecting what he could, he made it into a line and was about to scoop it up until he heard your voice.

“Haru, it’s almost nap time for- what are you doing?”

Sanzu isn’t scared of much but he is definitely terrified of you. So, in the heat of the moment he decided to snort it.

“Haruchiyo!”

“I’m sorry! You made me panic so I had to hide the evidence!”

“You’re doing coke when I trusted you with MY baby?! Sanzu Haruchiyo what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you fucking insane? Out of all the things you do I can’t believe you did that! While I was sleeping too!”

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear! It was baby formula!”

“It was baby formula? So your first instinct to me catching you in the act was to straight up snort it?! Like hell I’ll believe that Haruchiyo!”

“You’re scary when you’re mad but yes. Look, taste it,” he pleaded wiping his index finger on the exterior of his nose.

“Sanzu I’m not-“ he was quick to cut you off by sticking his finger into your mouth, the taste catching you off guard.

“See? I wouldn’t lie to you my pretty booger.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t put a booger in my mouth. Where’s our princess anyways?”

“Living room.”

Walking out of the kitchen with him following, you saw your daughter was still on their mat, peacefully asleep as if you weren’t just yelling at her father at the top of your lungs.

#aug.day tiktok dreams #aug.day and ani #tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokrev #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu fluff #sanzu imagines #bonten sanzu #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x reader

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telanana · 3 years

Text

Since I am completely plagued by this AU I will never write, I'm dumping it into the void tumblr so I can just. Get it out there.

So, Arcane AU where Powder gets caught by Jayce and Caitlyn and Vi has to leave her behind because otherwise she'll get the other two caught. Now, normally the enforcers wouldn't think twice about imprisoning a kid, but Jayce and Caitlyn both appeal to the council for leniency because she's literally just a little kid (which Powder protests very indignantly at the trial lmao bc she's just as capable as anyone else and it was just bad luck that she got caught). After a bit of bickering, the council reluctantly agrees to place Powder with Caitlyn's family with the caveat that Caitlyn do most of the supervising/teaching Powder how to behave in the upper city (bc hell if her mom's going to deal with it lmao).

Anyhow, they get back to the Kiramman estate and get Powder into the bath and put her in some fresh clean clothes and her own bedroom (right next to Caitlyn of course). The first night, after everyone's been asleep for a bit, Powder makes a break for it and almost makes it past the gates before a pair of enforcers patrolling the perimeter catch her and bring her right back. From there, Caitlyn and her parents reluctantly decide to keep Powder under basically house arrest until she proves she isn't going to run away. Basically, they set her up in a room with no windows and only one door in or out.

Since everything in the room has been Powder-proofed, Powder rebels by building her bombs out of whatever she can destroy in her room to turn into materials. Caitlyn comes in one morning and the place is just totaled. And her gut reaction is further punishment, but one of the little grenade critters starts to move and it makes her pause long enough to realize how unusual it is for a kid to be able to make stuff like that, especially without any help. So, she sits down and asks questions, which Powder tries her hardest not to answer until Caitlyn finds out they have names.

Meanwhile, down in the Undercity, Vi is absolutely livid bc Vander doesn't want to go back for Powder immediately. He keeps saying to wait until someone hears something about where she is and whether busting her out is going to even be possible. So, Vi tries her damnedest to stay put. Milo, unfortunately, keeps saying how they shouldn't have brought her along, how she jinxes everything, etc. Only this time, it's because she'd still be there if they hadn't taken her along. But Vi doesn't see it that way. That's her little sister and he doesn't get to say it's her fault for bringing Powder in the first place and it turns into basically a brawl where Vander has to come down and physically separate the two of them before it gets ugly.

There's a bunch of other things that come into play that I haven't really worked out yet, like the lack of an explosion making Jayce's work go undetected for a little longer and Powder's capture meaning that the enforcers don't actually go on a manhunt in the undercity. Basically, a ton of trigger events don't happen and things bubble and brew a bit differently. Silco has to basically worm his way into turning the undercity against Vander to wage war on the topsiders. It starts with Sevika, of course, because she's fed up even without the enforcers turning the undercity upside down looking for Vi and the others. I think inevitably it becomes a sort of civil war down there with two undercity factions going head to head. Vander's enforcer contact, Grayson, eventually tells him where Powder is and that she's in good hands. I think Jayce eventually starts working with Powder to try and develop hextech a bit more, but has to deal with her inclination towards weaponry and that causing some problems with Heimerdinger.

Other than that? It's just the AU idea that lives rent free in my head. Like that specific moment is the catalyst and I just love going, "ok but what if this happened instead??" and turning that into my nightly bedtime story in my head lmao

#arcane #netflix arcane #arcane au #basically this AU amounts to Powder having her mechanical skills nurtured and an actual positive relationship with Caitlyn #but still the resentment of Vi seemingly abandoning her

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oops-aquarius · 3 years

Text

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s.

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay.

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly.

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you.

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size.

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick.

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.”

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly.

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close.

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt.

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #mcu #avengers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers headcannon #smut #angst #fluff #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #wtf even is this crackfic #i hate it but oh well

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wonder-kid-pugh · 3 years

Text

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?" The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?" Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagines #emily sonnett #emily fields imagine #uswnt

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doctenwho · 3 years

Text

Man (and TARDIS)’s Best Friend

Hey! Thanks so much for the request, I had a lot of fun with this one! Most of the dogs in this fic are either dogs I had when I was little (and currently) and a few are my friend’s dogs.

The TARDIS being a troublemaker is my new favorite thing, so hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: Check out the prompt above :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the rightful creator!)

In your defense, things had probably gotten out of hand. You really hadn’t meant for it to happen, for one to turn into two, two into three and... well, three into seven.

It really had started with one.

Just a few weeks ago. You were on earth, which, for it being your home planet, you didn’t tend to spend much time around anymore. You and the Doctor hadn’t exactly split up, but he’d left you to your own devices while he went off doing whatever it was he was doing on earth. The man had an agenda, and earth was the only place you didn’t mind being by yourself on.

It was later in the evening, street lights illuminating the darkness around you as you strolled. It was nice to just be back on earth for a while, where you knew the terrain, and the people. Where things weren’t completely surprising, or shocking.

You’d been so caught up in your own head as you wondered around, you’d barely noticed the creature cowering on the sidewalk that you tripped over. The creature whimpered, and winced down, and it instantly broke your heart.

You’d always been an animal person, sympathizing with those neglected, or abandoned, or abused. You couldn’t imagine ever intentionally hurting, or leaving a pet alone, so this was hard to see.

The dog, you realized, stared at you fearfully. Cowering down like you were going to hit it. It was an older dog, dirty and scruffy, some kind of shih-tzu mutt if you were to guess. Its fur was matted, clearly left to on his own for a while at this point.

You didn’t even want to think about what this dog had been through, just from his attitude towards humans, as well as it’s neglected state. He’d obviously been abandoned—maybe grown too old and lost that cute ‘puppy’ image that some people craved. The thought disgusted you.

The poor little guy was skin and bones, shivering where he was tucked in on himself despite his coat of matted fur that was probably too warm for even the late-night chill.

You knew you couldn’t leave him. Not in good conscious. He obviously needed someone—he needed a person to care for him, and do the right thing for him, which is... well, it’s how you found yourself sneaking into the TARDIS with the poor little dog swaddled in your sweater.

The Doctor wasn’t much of an animal person. He’d never outright said it, but you’d never really seen him interacting with creatures. Not like how a human would love and care for a stray dog, or cat. He never seemed the type.

You weren’t sure how he was going to react to the dog.

You moved swiftly through the TARDIS, your little companion wiggling in your grip as you snuck through the TARDIS halls. You weren’t even sure if the Doctor was in, or out.

“(Y/N)?” His voice called from behind you. The bundle in your arms froze, as did you as you debated your options. You were a ways away from your bedroom—the safety of it where you could clean up the little dog and think of a better plan than to be caught in the hallway with a stowaway in the Doctor’s space and time machine.

The Doctor’s steps were approaching, following behind you. He was so close. You turned to look behind you, afraid he’d catch up and you’d have to explain the dog so soon. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking about making a break for it as you turned forwards again--

And there before you, was a doorway. Which didn’t make sense, because you’d been in the hallway, at least twenty steps away from your bedroom door, if not more. You knew for a fact there wasn’t any doorways for a while, because this corridor often felt endless. You looked around in confusion, frowning to yourself as you let your hand settle on the doorknob.

“(Y/N)?” The Doctor called again, confused, and so much closer than before. You barely had a second thought as you pulled the door open, tumbling in as your feet moved before your brain could process the action.

The door shut behind you, which you had absolutely no part in as you tried to finally catch your footings, arms securing around the bundled dog. It was only when you looked up to see where you ended up that you realized you were in you room.

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but you were quick to settle the dog into your closet as you heard steps approaching, managing to jump onto the bed and pretend to be reading a book that was on your bedside table just as the door opened.

The Doctor furrowed his brows at you, gaze looking from the book in your hands, up to your face in confusion, “I could’ve sworn I just saw you returning to the TARDIS,” the Doctor commented, voice almost distasteful as he eyed you.

“Nope,” you forced out, hoping you didn’t sound as much like you were hiding something as you did to your own ears, “been here a while, Doctor.”

The man casted his eyes around the room again, looking for anything out of the ordinary, before he settled on you again, clearly coming up short.

“Uh huh, well, we’ll be leaving shortly if you’re good to go?” he blinked, leaning just the slightest bit against the doorframe, and giving the room another thoughtful onceover.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, cursing your anxious nerves internally before flashing the man a grin to hide you panic.

“Alright, well,” The Doctor frowned as he moved to pull the door shut behind him. He paused before it shut, standing for a second before he spoke again, “I was unaware humans could read upside down.”

The door clicked shut, and it was only then you let out a breath, eyes snapping down to the book you were indeed holding upside down. You groaned to yourself as you righted the book before dropping it back on the bedside table annoyed at that tiny detail that could’ve ruined it all.

You pushed yourself off the bed, moving swiftly to the closet where you pulled the door open and smiled down at the nervous little dog. He was still mostly wrapped in your sweater, but his head and shoulder were exposed.

“C’mon,” you offered your arms, “let’s get you clean up, huh?”

The dog only hesitated for a second before moving close enough for you to pick up. You cradled him in your arms, pressing your cheek against his head as you stared up at the ceiling for a second.

You weren’t entirely sure what had happened just then, but you know one thing. You definitely hadn’t done it alone.

“Thank you,” you smiled up to the ceiling, knowing exactly who’d helped you protect the little dog.

----

You’d given the little dog the name Teddy. He’d been a nervous wreck when you’d been snipping away at his matted fur with the scissors in your bathroom, but he’d warmed up to you a lot while you bathed him warm water with a sweet-smelling dog shampoo that was, confusingly enough, hidden away in the bathroom cabinet.

The name had only really come to be when bedtime rolled around, and you found yourself with a cuddly, snuggly little dog tucked in your arms. It was like snuggling with a teddy bear, and you couldn’t imagine naming him anything else as you stroked his ears as he slept.

You really had just meant to leave it at Teddy, and see how long you could get away with hiding him away in your room. You snuck him food from the kitchen, set down a bowl of water in the bathroom, as well as a bowl of kibble that you had absolutely no idea where it had come from. You suspected the TARDIS helping you out where she could, and the thought made you smile.

It was almost a game at this point, and it was a funny thought that it appeared to be you and the TARDIS against the Doctor. Finally, the odds seemed a bit more well-rounded.

Hunny and Saidy had come into your life unexpectedly.

You knew the two German Shepherd Rottweiler mixes well. You’d gotten the call from your friend, the one who owned the two, that she could no longer keep them. She was being evicted, and it was quite hard to find a flat that would allow someone to have two medium-big sized dogs.

You knew you really shouldn’t take them—but you knew the girls, and they loved you, and the thought of them being rehomed, or given to the pound or something else just because no one wanted to take them made a weight settle in your stomach. The thought of them being separated tore at your heart.

You weren’t sure where you were going to keep them, as you walked into the TARDIS holding both a pink and purple lead as you led them into the time and space machine. The girls were quiet, silent besides their paws tapping on the floor, as well as their panting as you led them along.

You bit your bottom lip as you opened your door, stepping in quickly as you ushered them in, before closing the door and leaning your back against it. When you looked up, your jaw dropped.

Your room was double the size it had been before. Three food bowls, and three dog beds—one small, and two big enough for Hunny and Saidy to sprawl out on. It warmed your heart to see, the effort the TARDIS was going through to make room for the dogs was honestly adorable.

There’d been that inkling of worry that you wouldn’t have enough room to house these dogs and that you’d need to start rehoming them.

You grinned up at the ceiling, “you go, TARDIS,” you laughed out as you kneeled to scratch at both Hunny and Saidy, then, to the dogs, you continued, “welcome home, girls.”

Teddy wagged his tail happily from the bed, hopping down to greet the new dogs, and you were overjoyed to see them all getting along.

----

Gizmo was not a dog. Well, he wasn’t an earth dog, at least. You and the Doctor had been on a planet in a universe you hadn’t even known existed when the two of you stumbled upon a pack of little creatures.

They were babies, you could see.

You’d never seen anything quite like them. They were tiny—like teacup chihuahuas, fluffy like them too. They were a bit bigger than palm sized, and you were sure they didn’t weigh much more than half a pound, if that. They almost... well, they kind of resembled dragons too. It was like an earth dog and a dragon procreated.

Their colours were vibrant, an orange one with purple markings, a green one with red patches. One tri-coloured one, which was two different shades of blue with patches of white.

They were rainbow chihuahua-dragon hybrids.

The babies flocked around you and the Doctor, attempting to crawl up your shins. They made little sounds of excitement, not quite a bark, but close enough, and you instantly fell in love with them.

“Awh!” You swooned, kneeling down so the small creatures could finally make their way up you. You’d learned early on to only be afraid of things if the Doctor appeared to be afraid of it—or if it was threatening you with weaponry, or violence. The Doctor never really seemed afraid of that. “What are they?”

“Tricos,” the Doctor huffed, crouching down so he was lower, but not quite at an angle for the little creatures to crawl on him. “They’re easily domesticated creatures, but are more-so viewed as nuisances by the locals.”

You frowned, looking down at all the little faces. They didn’t act much different than puppies on earth would. “Why do the locals not like them? They’re like little dragon-dogs—look at how cute!” You grabbed the blue and white one under the arms and hoisted him up for the Doctor to see his face.

“Well,” the Doctor clicked his tongue, crinkling his nose at the little Trico, “They’re scavengers. Like earth raccoons and rodents. Besides, they don’t quite have the intelligence for violence, so they’re pretty low on the food chain. Some locals have domesticated them, but lots don’t want to put in the effort.”

“Well,” you stuck your bottom lip out in a pout, “I like them.”

“I know,” the Doctor’s smile was small, his hand reaching out to stoke one of the Trico’s backs, before he was standing up again, “well, c’mon then. We can stay here all day. There’s things to be done.”

You pouted, taking the Trico’s off your lap one by one, petting them before settling them on the ground before you were standing as well, ducting yourself off. You looked back at them, frowning as you waved before you followed after the Doctor.

It was only when you were tucked away in your room that evening, surrounded by Teddy, Saidy and Hunny that you noticed the sweater you’d shrugged off and tossed onto your bed shift as if something was in it. You froze, watching the sweater move, as the dogs around you growled—Teddy being the only one confident enough to draw closer.

Your heart stopped for just a second as Teddy sniffed the sweater, only to cry out in surprise as the little blue and white Trico’s head peeked out from under the folds of the sweater, tiny tail wagging against the weight of the sweater.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you laughed away the fear, sliding off the bed to kneel beside the sweater. The Trico’s nose pushed into your cheek, before it gave you a lick like earth dogs did when they liked someone. “Have you been hanging on all day?” You asked, knowing the creature wouldn’t respond now that his attention was locked onto Teddy, who was reversing cautiously towards the girls.

“It’s alright,” you hushed the dogs, offering your palm to the Trico; the little creature didn’t hesitate for a second before pulling himself up, tail whipping back and forth happily as he did so—and you could see a bit of the lack of intelligent the Doctor had mention, but it just warmed your heart. “It’s okay.”

The dogs took the evening to get used to the little Trico who you named Gizmo. You’s fallen asleep boxed in by German Rotties, with Teddy tucked against your side, and the tiny little Trico snuggled up on your chest.

That following morning, you found a book on Trico knowledge and care instructions on your bedside table and whispered a hushed thank you to the TARDIS as you propped it open and read about the newest addition to your dog pack.

----

After the Trico, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d managed to find Chloe, Bella and Cohen. They were a package deal, Chloe, an older Pitbull, who’d trailed behind you, hesitant but trusting all the same as if you gave off some kind of calming pheromone that attracted dogs in need. She walked slow with Bella and Cohen following behind her like ducklings.

Bella was a French bulldog, and you weren’t entirely sure why someone would abandon such an expensive dog so young, but you’d taken her in easily. Cohen was the smallest of the three, a chihuahua mix that pressed in tight against the Pitbull.

They were all strays down on earth, and you’d just happened to stumble upon them while the Doctor was chasing some alien criminal around for the safety of earth. You almost felt bad sneaking away to lead the trio of dogs into the TARDIS where she welcomed them with open arms, and three additional dog bowls, and a huge cushion that the three of them could curl up on.

“I knew you were up to something,” You spun quickly, mouth dropped in a hurried attempt to get something out as the Doctor stood with his arms crossed in the doorway, scowl on his face.

Before you could say anything, your bedroom door slammed shut, much to your own surprise, and the Doctor’s as well, who you could hear jumping back in shock.

“TARDIS,” you gasped, attention shooting up to the ceiling.

“(Y/N),” The Doctor’s voice travelled through the door, as the knob turned but wouldn’t open. “What in the world?”

You almost would’ve laughed if you weren’t busy ushering all the dogs into your adjoining bathroom and closing them in. You tried to make yourself look natural, standing awkwardly in front of your bathroom door, and it was only then that your bedroom door finally open, the Doctor stumbling in like it had pushed open as he’d been leaning on it.

“What,” he gasped out as he tried to regain his footings, “is going on here?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked out.

You’d known that at some point you wouldn’t be able to hide the dogs anymore. You knew the Doctor was clever, and you were actually a bit surprised it had taken him this long to figure you out. But that didn’t mean you weren’t afraid that it was happening now—you'd been holding on the idea that it would happen eventually.

The Doctor stepped more into the room so he couldn’t be locked out again, where he eyed everything in your room, his gaze settled on the dog beds and food bowls. His gaze raised from the beds and dishes to your face, where his features were unreadable.

He was a smart man, so he obviously knew what he was looking at when he asked: “what’s all this?”

You couldn’t seem to come up with a logical explanation besides the truth. But you still stuttered over your words.

“What’s in the bathroom?” the Doctor asked calmly, stepping closer to you, as you stepped back, blocking the bathroom door more urgently.

“W-what bathroom?” You asked dumbly, but to your surprise, the Doctor’s eyebrows shot up as he angled his head to look around you. You turned to look back at the door, stumbling away as you blinked at the now vacant bathroom entry. You gaped, glancing towards the ceiling before focusing back on where the bathroom should be.

The TARDIS never ceased to amaze you.

The Doctor’s face was pressed into a look of uncertainty as he stared at where the bathroom door should be. It was the most shocked you’d seen the Doctor in all the time you’d known him. His gaze fluttered in your direction, where his eyes narrowed on your shoulder, “that’s a Trico on your shoulder.”

It wasn’t a question. You hand flew up, where it indeed settled on the tiny little creature. You groaned aloud as Gizmo made a similar noise. You should’ve known he was going to cling to your clothes as you tried to get them all into the bathroom—that was how he found himself a home here.

“I knew I heard barking,” the Doctor’s eyes blinked rapidly like he was trying to understand, “and it certainly wasn’t him—” the Doctor’s gaze settled on the Trico, “what else do you have in here?”

You let out a long sigh, moving towards where the bathroom door should be. “The jig is up,” you called loudly, and almost immediately; the bathroom door was back. You ignored the mystified look on the Doctor’s face as you pulled the door open and the dogs all trotted out, barely batting an eye at the Doctor’s shock.

“You’ve brought dogs into my TARDIS,” the Doctor had a distant look in his eyes, “my TARDIS helped you hide these dogs from me. How did you turn my TARDIS against me?”

“I didn’t turn her against you,” you huffed, voice bordering on annoyed, “she just has a soft spot for dogs, I guess.”

You instantly felt bad, swallowing before you mended your words, “it really did start with just one, and then... well, how can you say no to them? Look at their little faces. And... I think the TARDIS really likes them too, because she’s been helping me out.”

“You stole a Trico--”

“Hey!” You frowned, “technically, the Trico stole himself. I didn’t know he was clinging to my sweater when we returned, he was just there. Look... I’m sorry.”

The dogs had all mad their way up to the bed, laying and watching the exchange. The little Trico though, refused to move from your shoulder. “They all just needed a place to be, like... like I did too when you found me. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” the Doctor’s voice was low, “frankly, I’m just a bit confused about why the TARDIS is so keen on these pets.”

“She’s a dog person—err, uhm, a dog time and space machine?”

The Doctor let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I suppose she is. She’s always had a soft spot for misfits.”

The Doctor doesn’t look unhappy, or upset. He looks thoughtful as his gaze sweeps over the dogs, lingering on both you and the Trico before he’d looking back to the earth dogs, “quite the collection.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “so, uh, can we... can we keep them?”

“How long have they been here?”

“Teddy- the uh, the little white one- has been here about a month. Since that earth visit.”

“A month,” the Doctor’s face scrunched up, almost in disbelief, “I don’t see why not then. I doubt I have to tell you they’re your responsibility, which I’m sure isn’t a problem considering they already have been for an upwards of a month, right?”

“The TARDIS has been helping too,” you remind, smile slowly crawling onto your face.

“I’m only allowing this because the TARDIS is so keen,” the Doctor informs, but you can see through his words. He always has a hard time saying no to you, the TARDIS just sealed the deal for him. “You’re lucky I love you,” his gaze casts upwards and his smile appears a little crooked, “the both of you.”

<><><><>

Trico is the name of the Last Guardian, who wasn’t quite the inspiration behind the hybrid alien dogs, but I was picturing them looking a bit like Trico as I was writing. Body wise, at least, and I’m awful at naming things, and thought Trico would be a cool species name :). I thought an alien dog would be fun, since they travel space lol

As always, if this wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt again! I hope you enjoyed, because I really enjoyed writing this one :D Thanks for taking the time to prompt, and to read my writing, it means a lot!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #ten #10 #doctor who 2005 #doctor who #TARDIS #fanfiction #fanfic #writing prompt #writing requests #dw

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

Hi! I have a request and whenever/ if u get to it I’d be super happy😊 it’s been a rough week and I would love a Javi fic where he wakes up next to you and it dawns on him that he loves you, and some fluff or smut ensues 👀? Have a great day!

I love this - I went with some fluff, because I am feeling soft. Here we are, some gentle, soft, and introspective Javi.

Javier x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

He came home late. Again. For the millionth time this week - rather this month. Year?

He always insisted that you didn't have to wait up for him but it didn't matter - you always tried anyway. For the days when you were able to stay up and welcome him home into your arms, he always seemed to ease up and melt into your touch. It wasn’t much, you never thought it was, but to him it was everything. To be able to come home to your smiling face, especially after a day out in the field was better than anything he could imagine. You were the singular, bright light in his dark and desperate world, reminding him that no matter what horrors he witnessed, there was always some good in this world. That no matter how bad of a man he felt, how evil and corrupt, you made him feel like that he wasn’t just filled with aching blackness. He was a good man and he was doing good things.

The way you’d whisper his name as he walked into your shared apartment was always reverent, gentle, but firm, a catalyst to ground him and drag him out of his DEA head-space. Sometimes, you’d have dinner ready and waiting, almost as if you could sense when he’d be back, cracking a cold beer open for him as he sat down before gently kissing him.

Other days when it would be late - too late - you’d meet him at the door and pull him along to the bathroom where you ran hot water filled with gently perfumed oils and stripped him of his clothes before guiding him into the tub. Sometimes you joined him, when he’d reach for you with eager hands and let you lay on his chest as he spoke about his day and got it off his mind; other times he just wanted the touch of your skin on his as you laid together in silence. Some nights you sat on the edge of the tub as you held his hand, telling him about your day, or something random, followed by washing his hair and body for him. It was something you enjoyed doing and he often did the same for you. He never verbalized just how much it meant to him, but you knew, you could always tell when he’d look at you with those soft chocolate, glossy with unshed tears before he kissed you.

There were a hundred million ways that you told him you loved him without ever saying a word. Your actions always spoke volumes, and sometimes they overwhelmed him so much, he’d retreat into himself and go off into his head. Sometimes he was convinced that he didn’t deserve this - you - any of it. That he was masquerading around and had you fooled and thinking he was a decent human. But even in those times, you let him go, didn’t push or pull too much. And you went back to showing him in all the ways you could that you loved him. That you needed him as much as he needed you. That he was your everything.

But this particular evening, he came home extra late. The stakeout had gone on longer than he intended and he wanted nothing more than to come home and crawl into bed and into your arms.

By the time he entered the apartment and tossed his keys, badge, gun, and wallet onto the side table, he knew you were asleep. You weren’t there to greet him in person, but in your place was a scrawled note on the counter top.

Javi - dinner is in the fridge - I made your favorite. Eat and take a hot bath (I insist) and then come to bed. Tomorrow’s your day off and I want you to rest. Te amo.

An overwhelming sense of warmth started in his core and spread throughout his body as he read over your words. Never in his life had he expected to be part of this level of domesticity, but fuck - it sure felt nice. He ran a finger over your gently scrawled words before tucking the note safely away into the pocket.

Just as you instructed, he went to the fridge and pulled out the plate you had prepared for him, heating it up while he got a beer and flicked on the television to quietly listen to some rerun of an old movie. As he ate, he listened to your soft snores coming from the bedroom as he smiled to himself. He knew he loved you, hell, he’d known that for a long, long time, but it had never really hit him just how damn much. It was the little things, and the big, that had him falling for you, over and over again. And - gods, he was completely smitten with you, overwhelmed and all consumed by you.

He finished his plate and beer, going to set them in the sink before deciding against it and washing the few items up and tucking them in the cabinet. It wasn’t much, but he wanted to do it so you wouldn’t have to. Padding to the bathroom, he sneaked a quick peek at your sleeping form before smiling and stepping inside and turning on the tap for the hot water. He filled it with oils and bubbles, just as you always did, before stripping and sliding into the warm, blissful water. A low groan escaped his lips as he already felt the tension leave his body; you had been right - this was exactly what he needed.

He took his time to wash his dark locks, to scrub himself free of any of the stress and grim, both literal and metaphorical, from the long day he’d had. He was off for a few days now and he wanted to start anew, to have a couple of fresh, clean days to get lost in you, to get lost in the simple pleasure of a normal life. It was nice sometimes, to get a reprieve from the constant darkness. One day, you promised him, this would be an everyday thing. And he couldn’t wait.

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he got out and dried himself off and grabbed the clean pajamas you had laid out for him before crawling under the covers to join, taking care not to disturb your slumber.

But it was no use; as soon as you felt him slip into bed, you whispered his name with a smile tugged across your features. Your eyes didn’t open as you held your arms open and motioned for him to come to you. He eagerly complied as he let you wrap him up in your arms, pulling him tightly against your chest before tangling your legs with his. Javi made a small sound of content as he buried his face in your neck, pressing a few kisses to your soft skin before yawning and feeling the sweet call of slumber win him over.

“I love you, Dulzura,” it was a soft whisper - a promise - a reminder that even if he didn’t verbalize as often as he should, it was true.

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he woke up the next morning, or rather later that morning, the sun was shining brightly through the sheer curtains, the chirping of birds and the excited shouts of children reaching his ears. Javier moved to reach for you, but found your side of the bed empty. He huffed lightly, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin on his, but his despair was quickly turned upside down.

The delicious smell of cooking - bacon, coffee, pancakes - met his nose as he listened to you softly singing along to whatever was playing on the radio. Suddenly his world stopped as he realized with a burning intensity that this - you - were his everything. It was overwhelming and nearly bowled him over as he realized that he already had everything he could ever want.

As if you sensed that he was awake, you padded down the hallway and poked your head into the bedroom to find him grinning back at you.

“Good morning mi amor,” you beamed at him, that soft, gentle smile that still managed to make him weak in the knees. God, that smile had won him over within about five seconds of meeting you. You stepped in and walked over to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Javi reached up and grabbed your face, holding you against his lips as he savored your sweet, saccharine taste. He traced over your features, studying you closely as his eyes softened, “what’s wrong, Javi?”

“Nothing,” he promised with another soft kiss, “I’m just happy. What a sight to wake up to.”

“I’m happy too,” you promised him, “I’m glad you got some rest, but now go back to sleep, it’ll be a little bit before everything is ready.”

“I’m wide awake now,” he insisted as he sat up and you ran a hand through his messy locks.

“Was I being too loud?” you frowned, hoping you weren’t the cause.

“No,” he promised softly, “I got enough rest. Let me help you - “

“It’s okay, Javi,” you insisted, “I want to do this, besides, it’s your day off. Let me take care of you.”

“I love you, dulzura,” he said suddenly, reaching for your hand before you could get away, “I know I don’t tell you enough, or show you, but please just know, I love you more than you will ever know.”

“I know Javier,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I know you do. You prove that to me every day, even if you don’t realize it. I love you too.”

“Let me come and help make breakfast,” he moved to slide out of the bed and stand up, stretched as he did so.

“Javier, you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he promised gently, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you into his chest, “really. And maybe this afternoon we can go to the beach. Just you and me. What do you say dulzura?”

“I’d like that Javi,” you grinned at him as touched his cheek, getting lost in those soft brown eyes, “I’d like that a lot.”

“And I like you a lot - I love you always, even if I don’t say it enough,” he insisted, “you have my heart, now and forever.”

“And you have mine, Javier. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena #javier pena x reader

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years

Text

The spy who loved me.

Smut ahead. Like, seriously. Smut.

It had been a long time, a very long time, since seeing Eggsy. Even professional spies weren’t immune to the restrictions and rules when it came to lockdown. The daily texts, phone calls, and video chats had satiated your need for contact with him only so much, and you were both desperate for some intimacy with one another in person. At this point even the thought of holding his hand was enough to make you feel giddy; those slender fingers of his linked with yours again before exploring your body… it was positively breath taking.

Eggsy had stayed in London with his mum and sister in the new house he’d purchased for them only a couple of weeks before the world turned upside down and finally, now that lockdown was being lifted and you could form bubbles with other households, you were on your way to join them thanks to your job allowing you to continue to work from home; not that you were planning on working too much when you arrived. Butterflies were fluttering around your stomach as you pull up on the driveway and see his car parked half in and half out of the garage, and when you knock on the door your heart leaps as you see his familiar shadowy figure walk towards it.

He opens the door with a breathy ‘hey’ and you immediately fall into his chest before his arms wrap themselves around the body he’d missed so very much the last few months. The two of you stand there for what seems like hours yet minutes all at the same time, only separating when you shiver from the cool breeze blowing around both of you in the doorway. His hands stay on your arms as he leans away with a smile to take in the sight of you standing there in person finally, then he bends down to scoop your suitcase up and leads you inside, kicking the door shut behind you both.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he sighs in disbelief as places your luggage down at the foot of the stairs before taking you through to the large lounge, “is this actually real?”

You press your lips to his in what begins as quite an innocent kiss but ends as a desperate, sloppy, heated embrace as he pushes you against the nearest wall before his hands begin to explore every inch of skin he can possibly touch underneath your top. Your hands grab at his jeans blindly, trying to find his belt so you could set him free from the confines of his underwear, and the two of you are freely moaning at the heightened feel of touching one another after so long. Neither of you hear the front door open and then close again, and Eggsy’s mum has to loudly clear her throat for the two of you to even notice that someone else was in the room.

“Shit!” Eggsy gasps, facing away as he does his jeans up.

“Oh my god,” you whisper with hot cheeks as you smooth your clothes down, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Unwin.”

“Sorry mum!”

“I think it can be forgiven under the current circumstances,” she chuckles, “good to see you again (Y/N)!”

Daisy sits in her pram giggling at her own foot and your heart melts at the sight of her, “it’s lovely to see you both, Daisy’s grown so much!”

“She’s eating us out of house and home!” Michelle exclaims, “she’s going through the longest growth spurt I’ve ever known of!”

“Well that’s lucky, because a little birdie told me that she’s partial to a certain dinosaur shaped biscuit, and I happen to have a couple of packs of them in my suitcase.”

“You’re a life saver,” she sighs in relief, “Eggsy, why don’t you show her around the house? I guess you didn’t quite get that far...”

“Will do mum,” he nods as a blush creeps up his cheeks, “this way.”

He picks your suitcase up and leads you up the floating staircase as you take in the very modern and expensive surroundings you now find yourself in.

“Bloody hell Eggs, this house is amazing!” you exhale in disbelief as your fingers glide along the wall.

“Nice, init?”

“Nice? Bit of an understatement!”

“Wait until you see our room… the walk in shower is to die for,” he says with a wink and a light bite of his lip, “plus we’re the opposite end of the top floor so we don’t need to be too quiet.”

You give his arm a playful slap and he takes your hand as the two of you head to his side of the house and the more than generous bedroom he got to call his own until life could continue as normal. It felt as if you were in an episode of Grand Designs with how modern and clean everything was, and you walk through the wardrobe space with long rails either side of you filled with variations of the same suit to the extravagant en suite with charcoal tiles lining the floor and walls and the biggest walk in shower you’d ever seen in your life; only one sheet of glass slap bang in the middle of the room to separate the shower area and the toilet and sink.

“This is literally bigger than my flat,” you groan, “I think I need to become a spy as well.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Eggsy scolds as his brow furrows, “anyway, you’ve got me, and what’s mine is yours.”

“Yeah but that’s not fair for me to rely on you like that, plus I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“Uh… I would disagree with that statement…”

“Huh?” you question as you look up at the square shower head and wonder what it must feel like underneath it.

You’re so transfixed by the fitting you don’t even notice Eggsy creep up to you until his sultry breath flows over your ear, “you have plenty to give me,” he whispers.

You shiver involuntarily as his fingers creep their way around your hips before walking along into the waistband of your jeans. Your head rolls back to lean on his shoulder as your hands grip firmly onto his forearms while his fingers tease your lips apart and stroke along your hidden folds gently, and you can feel his own excitement at the intimate touch against your backside.

“What would you two like for dinner?” Michelle shouts up the stairs, tearing you both away from your quiet moment and forcing you back to reality with a jolt.

Eggsy groans in frustration as he reluctantly retracts his hands from your body and you find yourself now completely worked up and more than ready for him to show you exactly what you’d been missing the last few months. A sigh escapes your lips as you steady yourself on the shower screen and Eggsy can see just how desperate you are to continue what he’d just started.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t realise how much I missed that.”

What the two of you needed right now was, quite simply, a fuck; something that would just purely release the initial tension that had built during lockdown. You had plenty of time to make love romantically now that you were staying there, and you could take your time with it hen Michelle and Daisy were out doing the food shop or something, but what you needed at this precise moment was a quick and messy release. The two of you look at one another, knowing exactly what was going to happen, and Eggsy quickly runs downstairs to give his mum an idea of what you wanted to eat that would take at least half an hour or so to give you a small window of opportunity.

“Right,” he exhales as he shuts the bedroom door behind him when he returns, “oh…” he pauses as he sees you’re already in his bed, your clothes and underwear in a pile on the floor next to it, and he discards his own clothing on his way over to you.

“How long have we got?” you ask as he settles on top of your body and adjusts the duvet accordingly.

“Like half an hour I think?” he grins before removing his glasses and leaning down to kiss you.

He’s almost pressing his entire body weight onto you as your mouths move around one another’s in a sloppy kiss that’s more teeth and saliva than anything else in all honesty, and your hands are grabbing at every inch of skin you can get a hold of as he manoeuvres himself between your legs hastily and carefully guides his length inside your already slick walls that had been waiting for him for what seemed like so long. The sensation of him inside you and his body on top of yours once more is overwhelming, and it doesn’t take you long to fall into a fast and needy rhythm as you two of you moan unashamedly while the bed rocks beneath you. This is exactly what you both needed; passionate, hot, fast, handsy, loud sex. It was purely to scratch an itch that was in desperate need of attention, and as the need to orgasm heightens with each deep thrust you find yourselves going out of rhythm as the aching for release takes over.

“Eggsy… Eggsy!” you moan as his lips attempt to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I ain’t gonna last,” he pants against your skin.

The sound of your bodies slapping against one another in quick succession drifts up from underneath the duvet and the two of you are truly lost in the haze of impending orgasms just as Michelle opens the door while asking a question that isn’t even distinguishable to either of you until there’s a gasp at the doorway which shocks you both to stillness.

“Mum!” Eggsy shouts, “get out!”

She quickly retreats and slams the door shut before you hear her practically running away down the landing towards the stairs. You look up at Eggsy who slowly turns to face you, then his lips land on yours within seconds as his hips start up again; his stiff member filling you with ease as your legs wrap around his backside.

“You know I love you,” he breathes heavily between intermittent pants.

“I know,” you nod, “I love you too.”

“Good,” he smiles, then leans his head down and bites onto your breast so he can flick his tongue over your nipple.

You cry out with pleasure at his sudden move and your hands weave their way through his hair to keep him where he is as your muscles begin to tense inside, ready for the much needed release. Before you can get to yours though, Eggsy lets out a hot, stuttered breath over your chest and his entire body tenses as he finally lets go with the longest groan you’d ever heard him make. He soldiers on after his climax and with some encouragement from his thumb rubbing over your sweet spot, you soon clench around him and release to the sound of whispered pants of his name which are emanating from your throat without you even realising. You blink away the stars in your eyes and finally look at his satisfied face hovering above you, then he flops down next to you and takes your hand in his as you both catch your breath.

“You do realise I will never be able to look your mum in the eye again, right?” you chuckle after a few moments of silence.

“Same,” he grimaces playfully, “I think we’ll just hide up here the rest of the night.”

could you make it as smutty as possible with some fluff, there visiting his parents back home and they can’t keep their hands off each other and his parents notice but don’t say anything until his mum walks in on them on the sofa in a very heated and handsy make out they apologise and try forget what happened but then she walks in on them the next evening in his room having sex there embarrassed again but still continue after she has left as they just can’t get enough of each other – Taron or Eggsy – @sarahegerton96

#eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin fanfic #eggsy unwin x reader #taron egerton #eggsy unwin smut

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