#the doctors said she’s not in pain and they’ll make sure it stays that way

[allysunny]

(You're) My Antidote Pt. 3 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵖᶦⁿᵏᶦᵉᵐᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: Your pregnancy is coming to an end, and Miguel is getting desperate. You're getting sicker and sicker, and your baby seems to be causing more harm than good, as his antidotes. He's running out of time. But Miguel is willing to do anything to ensure your well-being, as well as the well-being of his child.

Words: 8.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, hospitals, very bad science, like, really, really bad science, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, mentions of a difficult labour, births, a very cheesy and corny ending, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm here to finally deliver Part 3 of (You're) My Antidote! This one is a little longer than the previous parts, but I guess you can figure out why. Also, I took very big artistic liberties with all of the science talk in this part. Please let me inform everyone that I DO NOW KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SCIENCE! Everything in here except for the childbirth part is COMPLETELY MADE UP!

So if there are any science majors or doctors out there reading this, please do not burn me at the stake. I really did try my best.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this series! I had a blast :)

“Her vitals are stable, but we don’t know how much longer they’ll stay that way.” Spider-Doc said, looking at the file on his tablet. “She’s lost a lot of blood and it’s likely she’ll feel weak and sick for a while. We might have to keep her here for a few days before she can return home.”

If she returns home at all.

Miguel was staring at you. Lovely, beautiful, sickly you, lying on a hospital bed. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, and winced when his eyes caught the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of your face.

After you’d started bleeding on your bed, he’d taken you to the Spider Society Medical Centre, worried sick. He’d refused to leave the room as every medically inclined Spider-Person ran exams on you. He wasn’t allowed inside your room (He might be the leader of Spider Society, but doctors were doctors, and it didn’t matter how worried he was – he wanted them to do the best they could with no distractions) and paced back and forth in front of the door, until eventually allowed back inside.

 “And the baby?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes of you.

“Miraculously, the baby survived. We’re not sure what caused the bleeding, but one of our possible theories is that the baby is destroying her uterus from inside. All the thrashing around must’ve caused the bleeding. The baby is fine, and so is she, but we don’t know how long for.” Spider-Doc looked through his files, scribbling down things with a pen. “We will be able to run further exams, but only after she wakes up. Most of them require her consent.”

Miguel nodded and sat down next to your bed, holding your hand gently, afraid to break you. The oxygen mask covering your face was far too daunting, a harsh reminder of the state you were in, and how much you were suffering.

“What… What’s the probability of them both making it out alive?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

Spider-Doc sighed.

“We don’t know that yet, but… Miguel, it’s likely it won’t happen. The baby, it’s – it’s getting far too strong. It’s not a regular child because he has your genes. And all of the antidote you’ve been giving your wife, well, it soothes him for a while, but as I’m sure you’ve been told before, the baby is growing immune to it, and it’s only hurting your wife more and more.” He paused, glancing at you. “If we don’t find a way to cure it permanently, you might have to choose between one or the other.”

Miguel’s heart broke at the words.

How was he supposed to choose between the love of his life, and his child? His child, that he’d grown to love in this short period of time. The child he hadn’t gotten the chance to know yet, but still harboured a love as deep as the one he had for you.

But on the other hand, this was the child that was killing you.

He’d always wanted a family. You’d always wanted a family. He remembered the day you told him you were pregnant. How happy the two of you were, celebrating and fantasizing about the future, about your little family.

He’d get to come home to his loving wife and kid at the end of a tiring day, both reminding him of why he did what he did, why he risked his life over and over again for the sake of the multiverse. He’d cradle his baby on his arms, marvelling over how such a small, pure creature could’ve come from imperfect, impure him.

He’d watch you as you sang and rocked your baby to sleep, heart melting at the sight of you being a mother – a look he’d wanted on you ever since you told him you’d like a little family of your own.

And now, it was all going down the drain.

The baby was hurting you.

Miguel was hurting you too, with all those syringes and needles he made sure to insert into you. “It’s for your own good”, he’d say, eyes brimming with tears as you begged him not to. And yet, he insisted on sedating you and giving you the antidote, all to make sure you could keep on living.

Your reasoning started out as “Do it. I don’t mind the pain if our baby is fine” and had quickly changed to “You’re hurting him with your antidote Miguel, please stop.” What was Miguel supposed to do when your reasoning basically contradicted itself? You wanted the best for your child, and so did he. But the very thing that was curing it, was also causing it more harm.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?” Spider-Doc asked, tugging the files back under his arm.

“No, thank you Doctor. That’ll be all.”

The doctor nodded and promptly left, allowing Miguel some alone time with his wife.

Usually, he’d make sure no one was there to see him as vulnerable as this. But today, Miguel did not care. The love of his life was dying, and because of the child he’d helped make.

It’s all my fault. I’m a freak. I’m a monster. If it weren’t for me, she’d have a normal pregnancy. She’d have a normal child, a normal family. If it weren’t for me being the monster I am, she wouldn’t be in pain. It’s all my fault. I’m a selfish bastard who should’ve never fallen for her in the first place. I knew I couldn’t give her a normal life like everyone else, so why did I still pursue her? If I truly did love her, I’d have left her alone and let her lead a normal life.

This was the internal monologue going inside Miguel’s head. He allowed himself to cry, big tears rolling down his cheek and falling on the floor. Was it selfish of him? Back when you started dating, you told him you didn’t care about who he was. Spider-Man, big Alchemax genius, saviour of the multiverse. You didn’t care for any of those titles. All you wanted was your Miguel, your Miggy. You told him you’d love him forever, no matter what.

You’d love him in his good days, you’d love him through his bad days. You’d kiss his scars and run your fingers through his head and calm him down. You’d celebrate his victories and comfort him during his losses. You’d be there, no matter what.

“I don’t care what you are, Miggy. I love you. Isn’t that enough?” Those were the words you’d always say to him whenever he tried to reason with you, telling you he was a dangerous man, that he could not provide you with the life you deserved. And you never missed a beat, replying “The life I deserve is with you. The life I want is with you.”

And had he been selfish for wanting that? Had he been selfish for wanting a life with you as well? Had he been selfish for fighting for what he wanted for once in his life, instead of giving it up?

A small, gentle hand tugged at his brown curls, and he looked up to find you staring at him through almost closed eyes. Your chest still rose and fell with your breathing, which seemed more stable now. Miguel couldn’t see the entirety of your face, but he found your eyes and the dam broke.

He sobbed into his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry… This is all my fault… It’s my fault that I’m such a monster and have cursed our child with my genes…” Having heard this, you pulled on his hair, this time harsher. He looked up and saw your eyebrows furrowed in a frown. You shook your head gently and placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. Your other hand found your stomach and rubbed circles there.

“If it weren’t for me…” Another harsh tug. He did not need to see the rest of your face to know you’d be scolding him right now if you could. You were never one to throw pity parties – you loved him, you said it often, and you were sure of your decisions.

“I love you,” he said, standing up to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and instinctively leaned into his touch. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll be here if you need me.” Saying this, he sat back down on the chair, and quietly watched you.

Later that day, some of your closest friends of the Spider Society would stop to check up on you and wish you well. Peter B. brought Mayday and tried to cheer you up by allowing her to perform a series of stunts (if he could call “swinging around the hospital room with her web-shooter” stunts) and telling you jokes.

Jessica had dropped by your apartment and brought her some spare clothes, as well as some of the things she knew you couldn’t live without – your phone, the books you were currently interested in, and other basic items like a hairbrush and a toothbrush. Miguel hated what that implied – that you’d be in here for a while, long enough for you to need these things, but he was willing to do whatever was best to keep you safe.

Miles and Gwen stopped by too, chatting with you calmly and telling you about whatever shenanigans they had been up to in their respective dimensions. It always cheered you up to listen to those two talk. You loved how vibrant and passionate they were about their job as Spider-People, and they always made you insanely proud.

After a few hours, Miguel ushered everyone away, arguing that you needed peace and quiet. They all promised to come back later, and the two of you were left alone once again.

The Spider-Doctors had allowed you to remove your oxygen mask if you felt up for it, so you placed it near your body and tried to distract Miguel out of his worries.

“I’ve been thinking of a few baby names,” you said, caressing your stomach, an action that had become second nature to you.

“¿En serio?” he mumbled. Miguel had pushed his chair as close to your bed as possible, to make sure he could cater to you at all times and help you if you needed. He was currently laying his head next to your torso, and he was facing you. A rather uncomfortable position, but as long as he got to be next to you, that was all right.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking, if it’s a boy, we can call him Henry.”

Miguel snorted.

“What’s wrong with Henry?” you asked him, pouting.

“We’re not naming our child Henry.” Miguel deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s a lovely name.”

“Yes, maybe. But not for our child.”

You huffed, flicking his forehead softly.

“Ouch – hey! What was that for?” He asked, lifting his head ever so slightly.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” You looked away, visibly upset.

“No – no, look at me.” When you refused to do it, Miguel lifted his hand to turn your head towards his, so he could look you in the eye. “Mi vida, I’m sorry. I am taking this seriously. I just personally don’t really like Henry. What are some of your other ideas?”

You huffed again and he had to try and hide his smile. You looked rather adorable like this, even if he would never tell you.

“I like Lucas.”

“Hm.”

“You hate it.”

“I don’t – “

“You do, Miggy, I know it! I can see it in your face – that’s the same expression you had when you tried my mom’s empanadas.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Cariño, I love your mother, but those empanadas were terrible.” Miguel calmly replied.

“You’re making that same face now.”

“And how can you be so sure it’s a boy?”

“I told you, I can feel it. Call it maternal instinct.” You smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile with you.

“What do you think about Gabriel?”

Now it was your turn to furrow your brows.

“Gabriel? As in – “

“Yeah.” He looked at your stomach and hesitantly placed a hand on top of it. He wanted so badly to communicate with the baby growing inside of you, apologise to him for making him the way he was, and beg him to please stop hurting you. “What do you think?”

You hummed, and grinned.

“I love it.”

Miguel’s head snapped upwards, and his eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it. Gabriel. I think it’s lovely.”

Miguel leaned upwards and placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips, savouring the sweetness of your words, your body, your soul.

“Gabriel it is then.”

You two remained in silence for a while, before you decided to speak up once again.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Your voice was low, and Miguel could sense the sheer adoration and utter love you had for your unborn child. “I can’t wait to hold him, and to see you hold him. I’ve always wanted a family with you.”

Miguel did not speak.

“It’ll be fine, Miggy. Everything will be fine.” It was odd. Usually, it was him who had to comfort you. After all, you were the one lying on a hospital bed. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

He looked up and offered you a small smile, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“I do. I love you too. You, and our baby. I would do anything for the both of you. You know that, don’t you?”

You smiled. A sad smile, that said everything you couldn’t find the words to.

“I do, Miggy.”

You puckered your lips, silently begging him for a kiss, which he obliged you with. He tilted your head upwards and kissed you slowly, tongue lazily tracing your bottom lip before you parted your mouth to welcome him. Although weak, your hands still found strength to clutch his shirt and pull him tighter against you.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you whispered against his lips.

Miguel nodded and slowly untangled himself from your grasp.

“You should rest, my love.”

After you’d fallen asleep, Miguel exited the hospital room and made his way to his laboratory.

Lyla’s gleaming form appeared before him, taking her heart-shaped glasses so she could see him better.

“Miguel? Is that you?” she asked, disappearing from her spot, and appearing once again right in front of his face. “I heard what happened. I’m really sorry. Shouldn’t you be with her right now?”

“We need to work on a cure.” Miguel ignored her as he walked towards his workstation, glaring at the papers scattered around. Formulas, calculations, drawings, and sheets filled with words. He had to be getting closer to the cure, right? All those sleepless, restless nights couldn’t have been for nothing. Miguel was one of the smartest men in his universe, clearly there must’ve been something he hadn’t tried yet.

“Miguel, we’ve talked about this. You need to go to her,” Lyla sighed. If she could get tired, she would, really. “Jessica and I are still working on the research. We’re trying our hardest, but you have to – “

“We’re running out of time, Lyla!” Miguel yelled, sending the papers flying all over the room. “She’s getting worse. That baby is killing her, Lyla. It’s killing her, and the antidotes I’m coming up with are just hurting her more… You were right…” He placed his hands on his desk, leaning his head on the top. “You were right, the baby is growing immune and making the antidote stronger will only hurt her further… I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Lyla sighed, her figure flickering in the darkness. She appeared once more next to Miguel, looking at the few papers that managed to stay intact. Her holographic fingers ran through a few lines of text, analysing them.

“All of these formulas… You’ve been increasing the power of the antidote… Making it stronger and stronger to sedate the baby as much as you can… You’ve been far too aggressive on your approach, Miguel.”

“What?” he asked, not even daring to look up.

“Yeah, I mean,” Lyla flickered over to other papers, scanning them and reading them a few times, before returning to Miguel’s side and booting up her results to his computer. “Look at this. You’ve been so focused on sedating the baby, you haven’t even tried to build [Y/N]’s defences up.”

Miguel furrowed his brows, glancing at Lyla in disbelief.

“I did that. With patch 3.4. I fortified them, see?” Using his fingers, he tapped away on his screens, zooming in on a few lines and notes, and then sliding the screen so he could see the matching blood results. “See? Look at the white blood cells.”

“Yes, but still, you’re focusing too much on the offensive side of things.” Lyla quickly sparkled before his eyes, and in a flash, she was inserting sketches and drawings on the picture that shone on the screen. She was crossing out words and numbers and letters and replacing them with her own. “Look, over here. You decided to strengthen the defences, but you also doubled down on the sedative effects. You make it strong for yourself because you’re a grown man. We’re talking about a baby here.”

“A baby that is killing my wife.”

“A baby, nevertheless. The baby’s genes are triggering a response in [Y/N]’s body. What if we reprogram her white blood cells, specifically the T cells and natural killers cells, to recognise and neutralise the foreign elements?” Lyla turned to him and removed her sunglasses.

“We’re not messing with my wife’s genetic code, Lyla. That is out of the question.” Miguel knew the price one had to pay for such a thing. And he wasn’t about to risk your well-being. Who knew what could happen should he try to do something as drastic?

“But what if we don’t have to? We can reinforce the white blood cells in the antidote. We can tweak the core essence of the antidote itself, with Essence Cells – tiny protectors we can unleash to recalibrate the energy balance between her. They’ll form a shield that actively repels the negative influence from the baby’s unique energy pattern.”

Miguel placed a hand on his chin, going over what Lyla had told him.

It was true, he’d been far too preoccupied with tackling the baby issue. But he also knew that strengthening your defences could cause the baby to get stronger and stronger as opposed to stagnate.

“Essence Cells? Can we really do that?”

Lyla shrugged.

“It’s a stretch, but we’re dealing with extraordinary circumstances. If we manipulate the energy signatures in her bloodstream, we might create a defensive barrier that counteracts the harm all of the baby has been doing.”

Miguel faced his papers once again.

“It’s a long shot Miguel, but at this point, what do you have to lose?”

“I can lose [Y/N] – “

“What’s fortifying her defences gonna make? Worst case scenario, her immune system grows.”

Miguel stared at the screen. He remained silent.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Lyla voiced one last time.

It wouldn’t. If it worked, you’d be safe. The baby would be safe.

If it didn’t, he’d at least buy you more time.

And prolong your suffering, a little voice whispered in his head.

He shook that nasty thought away.

“Let’s do it.”

You’d been doing fine.

You’d been healthy, colour had returned to your cheeks, and you seemed to be healing just fine. The baby hadn’t caused much trouble, sometimes kicking you harder than a normal baby should, but, overall, behaving.

The new antidote mix seemed to be working.

Miguel was currently sitting by your side, reading your favourite book out loud. You claimed you were “far too tired” to pick it up, but Miguel knew you simply liked the cadence of his voice. No matter. He’d read to you as many times as you wanted if it meant you’d be fine.

“You sound so nice,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing. You were close to falling asleep, although it wasn’t even near 3PM. Sure, you were healing, but having a baby that shared 50% of his genes with your vampire-ninja-spiderman husband (as Miles so charmingly put it) was tiresome, and you found yourself exhausted even before lunch time on most days.

“I’m sure the baby likes to hear you too,” you yawned. Miguel smiled at the sight. Although not the ideal location, this is all Miguel has ever wanted for you. A quiet, peaceful, healthy pregnancy with him catering to your every need, and you just sitting pretty as not to strain yourself much.

“I can’t wait to hear him,” rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you sit up – or rather, try to. Miguel is next to you in milliseconds, propping you up with pillows and making sure you were comfortable.

“This alright?” he asked, fluffing up a pillow behind you.

“Perfect,” you smiled and kissed his jaw affectionately. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good,” he chided with a fake worried expression.

“Ha ha, very funny. But I wanna get out of here.”

Miguel took a sharp breath.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Miggy, but I need to get out. Just for a while. I can walk, you know? I’m tired of being in this damn hospital bed for so long. I promise it’ll be fine; you can even come with me! Please? Exercising is good for the baby.”

“[Y/N]…” Miguel sighed, reaching out to hold your face.

You were quicker though and held his hands with your own.

“Please, Miguel. You can accompany me or chaperone me, or whatever you want to call it. But I’ve been getting better, and all I want is to move around a bit. I’ll be fine. And after we go for a walk, I’ll return to bed, I promise.”

Miguel looked into your pleading eyes and saw how badly you needed this. You’d been lying in a hospital bed for a few weeks now, after lying in your own bed at home for a few months. It wasn’t the greatest lifestyle, and how could he deny you something so simple? Two voices in his head fought against each other, one of them telling him that it was a terrible idea. The other one, however, assured him that you needed to get out and get some fresh air, because it’d be good for both you and your baby.

“Alright my love. Let’s go.”

You’d never been happier as you walked (waddled, more like) around the Spider Society with Miguel by your side. Ever the protective husband, he held your hand and kept you close, offering you any help around every 5 minutes.

Spider-People approached, gushed over your big baby bump, asked standard questions such as if you knew the gender, if you’d been thinking about names, and wishing you all the best in your pregnancy. Those who knew about your condition asked if the antidote had been working and offered to keep you company at the Medical Centre, which you gladly accepted.

Once you got to the cafeteria area, Miguel had to nearly physically restrain you, seeing as you almost ran to the empanada stall, claiming you were super hungry, and nothing except those godly cafeteria empanadas could soothe your craving.

“We’ll get you one, but you need to sit down,” Miguel said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at that line! Miggy, they’ll be out of empanadas before we get there! We need to hurry!” You huffed.

Miguel chuckled and kissed your forehead, before leading you to a nearby table.

“Sit here and I’ll bring you the empanada. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly and waited for your husband to return.

After a while, Miguel came back, holding a few boxes – he wasn’t going to risk it. He knew you, and if you said you craved one empanada, what you actually meant was I’m craving a whole bunch of them. He noticed the small crowd that had gathered around you and had half a mind to send them all away, before he noticed who they were.

“I’m so glad you’re doing better, [Y/N].” Gwen Stacy said.

“Yeah – you got us all worried, you know?” Miles replied.

You smiled, having grown very fond of the kids. In a way, you saw them as your own children.

“Thank you. I’m getting better now – all thanks to Miguel. He’s a genius. Oh! Speak of the devil!” You reached out your hands and Miguel promptly handed you one of the empanada bags. You squealed in delight and opened the bag, wasting no time in sinking your teeth into it.

“Hmm – this is so good,” you groaned, mouth full (earning a side glance from Miguel). You finished chewing your bite and cleaned your mouth, and then turned to him. “Thank you, honey. Gosh, I really missed these.”

Gwen and Miles chuckled as they watched you chew on your empanada contentedly, and Miguel silently thanked whoever was watching over him for this moment. He felt normal for once. Just a husband taking care of his wife’s cravings and watching as she appeared to glow.

Things had been bad for a while, but thankfully, they were getting better. You were getting better.

“Miguel! Miguel, look!” Gwen shouted, breaking him out of his trance and pointing at you. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and that’s when he saw you.

The empanada had been forgotten and dropped on the floor, and you were panting, out of breath. One of your hands was placed on your stomach, the other was holding onto the bench for support.

“[Y/N]!” Miguel was immediately by your side, looking at you and accessing what was happening.

“Shit – shit, it hurts, Miggy. It hurts so much!” Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and a pained expression overtook your face. Before he could ask you what specifically hurt, you were letting out a horrifying scream and falling on the floor. Miguel’s reflexes were quicker and you instead fell on his lap, where he cradled you tightly against him.

You screamed and shrieked, Spider-People all around you stopping to glance at what was happening. Pavitr kneeled next to you in panic, holding your hand and encouraging you to squeeze it tightly, which you did (let it be known that he took it like a champ, focusing on you rather than on the pain you caused him). You turned to Miggy and sobbed, trying to explain what you felt, the way he always told you to do whenever you hurt.

Unfortunately, the pain was far too much to endure, and every two words from you were interrupted by ear-piercing wails.

Miguel didn’t want to leave you. Not at all. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you suffered and cried in his arms. But he needed to get to his lab as soon as possible, and he couldn’t do that with you. He couldn’t possibly risk hurting you.

In a split second, he made a decision he never thought he’d ever make in his life.

“Peter, Hobie, Pavitr, take [Y/N] back to the Medical Centre.”

“Miguel, no – “ you sobbed, clutching onto his suit.

“Mi vida, I need to go to my lab and reach your files – “

“No – “ You flashed a thousand colours in front of him. Chunky blocks of colour replaced your figure and rearranged it repeatedly. You felt lightweight in his arms, and his heart sunk at the realisation. He’d felt this weight before, held it as its colours sparked dimmer and dimmer.

You were glitching. Again.

Panic overtook him, clouding his judgement.

Shock. What was he going to do? Why were you glitching? He’d stopped giving you that patch of antidote he’d gotten from another universe. Hell, he’d promised never to return there after you’d glitched the first time.

So, what in the world was causing this?

“Miguel?”

Why were you suffering?

“Miguel?”

Hadn’t you suffered enough? Was this the world’s cruel way of punishing him?

“Miguel!”

It was Peter B.’s voice that brought him back to reality.

“We need to get her to the Medical Centre. You go to your lab and find a cure. Now.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He held you tightly one more time, kissed your forehead when your frame stopped sparkling, and all but ran to his lab.

Once he got there, Lyla flickered in front of him, pixelated eyes widening in fear.

“Miguel!”

He looked up and saw as she returned to his keyboard and pointed at the screen.

“The Essence Cells are causing a temporal instability in [Y/N]’s physiology.” She exclaimed, typing away.

Miguel huffed; face contorted in anger. “I thought you said this was safe, you said the worst that could happen – “

“I had no idea this would happen! Miguel, it wasn’t supposed to! But it’s too late for that, we need to work on a cure.” Lyla appeared in front of the screen and urgently pointed at it. “[Y/N]’s sense of time is becoming warped. She might be experiencing moments from different timelines, different realities. It’s as if the Essence Cells are opening windows to parallel words within her. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. [Y/N] hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes. Ever. Not before, not during her pregnancy. This is completely unexpected.”

Lyla’s words sunk in.

She hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes.

“Mierda,” he whispered, nearly collapsing on her knees.

Lyla knew what that expression meant. She knew what that voice meant, and she did not like it one bit.

“Miguel…?” she asked tentatively. “What have you done…?”

He shook his head and glanced at his hands. Was it his fault then? Was this all his fault? Perhaps if he hadn’t given you that foreign antidote, you’d be fine now. The Essence Cells would do their job, and you wouldn’t be suffering. It’s all his fault.

“Miguel, tell me what you’ve done, now. The quicker we know what the problem is, the better we can deal with it!”

“I… I travelled to another dimension…” he mumbled; voice numb. “It was a few months ago, I… I was desperate and reached out to another me, a better me… He gave me this antidote, said it wouldn’t fail… Lyla, I was desperate – I didn’t want to lose [Y/N]! I didn’t know what else to do!” When Miguel finally looked up, Lyla could see he was crying.

His next words carried all the heartbreak he felt, and even with no feelings, Lyla felt something resembling a heart breaking inside of her.

“I didn’t want to lose her, Lyla. I was desperate. It’s all my fault now, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was, but Lyla was not about to tell that to her clearly very disturbed boss. Instead, she did what she did best.

She got to work.

“You’re an idiot, Miguel O’Hara,” she sighed in exasperation before taking a deep breath. “But you already know that. Now, stand up and stop moping around. Your wife and child need your help.”

Miguel looked up at her, like a lost puppy being offered a home.

“Do you want to save your wife or not? Get up and let’s work!”

Something switched inside of Miguel. Maybe it was the way Lyla did not hold him accountable, maybe it was the determination in her voice, but one thing was for sure: he was going to save you, no matter what.

“Alright.” He stood up, making his way to his work bench in two strides. “What do we need to do?”

“We need to recalibrate the Essence Cells – tweak their energy signatures. If we can stabilize Mary’s temporal fluctuations, maybe we can minimize these glimpses into alternate realities.”

“More Essence Cells aren’t the solution – they’re making everything worse. The Essence Cells must still be reacting to whatever remnants of the other antidote still remain in her body. She hasn’t glitched in a while, so maybe they’re dying out, but I can’t risk it. We can’t.” Miguel mumbled, scribbling over more papers, and comparing them.

“Okay, what about changing our approach?”

“We’ve done that before, Lyla, and it didn’t work, and [Y/N] is in pain, and – “

“Stop being so stubborn and listen to me!” Lyla yelled. “Remember to keep your heart out of this – you’re a scientist, remember? Be logical. Instead of amplifying, we need to anchor. Maybe the Essence Cells are intensifying the glimpses because they’re acting like amplifiers. We introduced them to strengthen her defences, remember? They’re amplifying her immune system. Maybe we need something more stable.”

Miguel nodded. She was right. He needed to remain clear-headed – panicking would not do. Logic and reason would help him. “You might be right – but what could possibly anchor these fluctuations without harming her? Lyla, we’ve tried about everything.”

Lyla chewed on her little pixelated pencil.

She flickered all around the lab, appearing and disappearing in front of papers. She scanned some and left others alone. She organised all the information that proved to be relative, before pasting it to Miguel’s computer.

“Of course!” She cried out. “How did I not thing of this before?”

“What? What is it?” ´

“Miguel, your blood!” Lyla appeared in front of him, nodding so vigorously, her heart-shaped glasses fell off. “It carries your genes, doesn’t it? If we use a controlled amount of your blood, we might be able to create an antidote that stabilizes the Essence Cells, anchoring [Y/N]’s experience to a single reality!”

Miguel frowned. He hadn’t thought about using his blood. In his head, it meant he’d be injecting some more of the same genes that were hurting you in your body.

“I don’t understand. How could my blood possibly work?”

“Your blood contains the original genetic code we’re trying to counteract. By introducing it in a carefully measured way, we can neutralize the amplifying effect of the Essence Cells – “

“And stabilize [Y/N]’s physiology.”

“Exactly! And that’s not the only thing – with your blood, we can create an antidote that not only stabilises her condition, but also creates a protective barrier around the baby!”

“My genes were what got us in this whole mess in the first place,” Miguel mumbled. “But perhaps by using it, we can design the antidote to shield the baby from the harmful aspects of her glitching, while still allowing the natural and healthy development of their unique traits. My unique traits. Lyla, you’re a genius!” Miguel shouted, swinging towards another one of his work benches, this one filled with vials and needles.

“I know, I know. But say it one more time, just to make sure you mean it!”

A few members of the Spider Society gushed and worried about you, refusing to leave your side. Pavitr still held your hand, even though his was turning purple and getting numb. Gwen slowly petted your head, keeping you grounded by telling you stories and anecdotes about her day. Hobie was trying his best too – he had a soft spot for you and tried to make you laugh every few minutes, just to make sure you were okay.

The glitching had stopped for a while, but not completely. You thought of them as contractions that took longer and longer to come as time went by. Just where the hell was your sweet Miguel?

Almost as if answering your prayers, he burst in the room, holding a needle in his hand. Everyone immediately got out of his way, and he kneeled next to you. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and scanned your face for any further injuries, which you did not seem to have. Good. If all went according to plan, you wouldn’t feel any pain any longer.

“I’m here, mi vida, I’m here.” He whispered softly, guiding your arm towards his chest.

“Miggy, it hurts,” you whispered back, dry tears staining your lovely cheeks. He kissed each, before settling the needle on top of your skin. “I don’t want it to hurt again, please don’t….”

“I know, my love, I know. But I have to do this.” Miguel placed his forehead against yours. “It’ll stop. I promise, it’ll stop. You’ve been so brave up until now, haven’t you? You’ve been so brave for our child. It’ll be so lucky to call you mother.”

“Gabriel.” You nodded, trying not to tear up again.

“Yeah, Gabriel. He’ll be so lucky to call you his mother.” Miguel wiped the sweat out of your brow, slowly pushing the needle inside of you. You winced in pain and shrieked, back arching off the bed as the baby inside you stirred and stirred. Miguel ignored your cries and pushed through. You needed this, you needed this antidote, because this one would work. After so many failed attempts, this was the antidote patch that would finally work.

Miguel wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if it did not.

He prayed to whoever deity was up there, and watched as you slowly regained your breath and laid down on the hospital bed once more. Your posture was relaxed, calm. It was as if a big weight was lifted off your body.

“My love?” Miguel asked, brushing some strands off hair from your face. “How are you feeling?”

He was expecting any kind of reaction. Tears, screaming, silence.

Nothing prepared him for what happened next.

You started to laugh.

To laugh.

To truly laugh, after so long.

You giggled and giggled, hands reaching around your belly.

“I’m – I’m amazing, Miggy!” You laughed and looked at him, with tears in your eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. “I hadn’t felt this great since before I was pregnant!” You laughed again and nuzzled his nose with your own. You ignored everyone else in the room and smiled as your husband took your face in his hands and kissed your breath away. You responded with just as much fervour, stopping mid-kiss to chuckle. “I feel amazing, Miguel. Thank you. Thank you so much. You did it. I can feel it my love, you did it.”

Miguel let a few tears of relief roll down his cheeks. You kissed them away and invited him to place his hands on top of your belly.

“Can you feel it?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

“Not much. Are they supposed to be kicking?”

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head, “Not at all. He’s calmed down. All thanks to you.”

Miguel kneeled once again and smiled.

You were doing fine. You were well, and so was your baby.

Later, Spider-Doc would come to bring the results of your new analysis. The baby, even though still carried Miguel’s genes, now did so with stability. He was healthy and you were no longer glitching.

All was well.

Until you were dragged to the same hospital room a few weeks later.

Miguel doesn’t remember much.

It was honestly all very fuzzy.

All he does remember though, are a bunch of voices yelling at each other, and how he had refused to leave your side. Hell would freeze over before he even considered leaving you.

“[Y/N], we’re going to need you to push now, is that okay?” your delivery nurse (a Spider-Woman, since Miguel refused any other hospital to see you – after all, the Spider Society had the best doctors – and, well, best everythings.)

You nodded, sweat clinging to your whole body. Miguel was next to you, and you were holding his hand as tight as you could.

“C’mon mi amor, you can do this. You can do this, alright?”

“Mhm!” You whimpered.

“Ready? One, two, three – “

You screamed, pushing as hard as you possibly could. Your eyes were watery, and you were shaking your head repeatedly, begging for this torment to stop.

“One more time [Y/N], come on!” The nurse repeated, looking at you and nodding encouragingly.

“Uh-oh,” Spider-Doc blurted behind Miguel, which made the latter tense up immediately. Uh-Oh? What did he mean, Uh-oh?

“The baby’s oxygen levels are low; we may need to intervene.”

“What?” Miguel’s head turned in the doctor’s direction. “What’s happening? Doctor, what’s happening to my wife?! Tell me!”

Spider-Doc looked at the other doctors in the room, and they all nodded at the same time.

“Get him out of the room.”

“What?!”

“Miggy!” You cried, not letting go of his hand.

“Miguel, you need to leave right now, we can’t have you in here. You’ll just cause more complications, add stress to the doctors, and consequently, your wife.”

“Doc, with all due respect, there’s no way I’m going to abandon her when she needs me the most.”

That was the last thing Miguel said before the door’s room was slammed in his face.

Well. So much for never abandoning you.

“Pendejo de mierda…”

Miguel sat down, leaning his back against the wall, and staring at the ceiling. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in that room with you, holding your hand and promising you all was going to be fine. He was your husband, for shock’s sake. He wanted to protect you, and he sure as hell couldn’t do it from outside the room.

He turned his head and tried to listen to whatever noises might be coming from inside. The soundproof qualities of the hospital seemed to be proving useful, since he couldn’t make out a thing – which only made him even more nervous. What if you were scared? Panicked? What if you needed him? What if the doctors needed anything? Any information on your blood type, on your pregnancy? He had all these answers.

And most importantly, he wanted to be there for you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door next to him opened ever so slightly.

Spider-Doc looked around, before settling his gaze on the ground next to him.

“Miguel?” he asked, to which the other man immediately stood up upon hearing.

“Yes? Is everything okay? How is my wife? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Spider-Doc smiled, opening the door more, and making way for Miguel could come through. “There were a few complications with the baby, namely, the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. That’s why the oxygen levels were low. Thankfully, we intervened at the right time. Your wife is fine, and so is your baby.”

Miguel sighed deeply in relief. The weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. That’s all he wanted to hear.

“And, according to her, your presence is needed. Urgently.”

He did not wait a second before walking inside the room, looking around to access his surroundings. No one seemed to be panicking, there were no nervous nurses and doctors rushing about. And then he heard it.

The piercing cry that seemed to come from one of the extremities of the room.

He approached, carefully, almost as if scared. After all, he wasn’t sure of what he was going to find. But whatever he might’ve thought about, did not hold a candle to the real thing.

In the hospital bed next to him, were you, lying down. Your forehead was glistening with sweat and your breath was still evening out. Your eyes were red and puffy, and so were your lips, from all the tears you’d spilled. When you looked up at him, they sparkled again, threatening to water once more.

“Hey,” you whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” Miguel replied, staying still.

“Come meet your son,” you said and looked at the baby neatly bundled near your chest. Miguel stepped forward, and if his breath hadn’t been stolen before, it definitely was now.

Close to you, you held a tiny, tiny little baby. There were a few strands of curly brown hair on top of his head, and his eyes were closed, tiny fists closed in the same fashion. He wailed them around, shattering cries erupting from his throat. How come such a small baby could make so much noise?

You shushed him softly, caressing his cheek and whispering soothing words. The baby seemed to listen, because he became quietly right after, big, sparkling eyes coming to stare at you curiously.

“They’re yours,” Miguel nearly choked out, stepping forward. “Our baby has your eyes.”

You smiled at your husband and nodded, cooing at your child.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

Miguel’s eyes widened.

“He?”

He could barely believe it.

“Told you. Maternal instinct is never wrong,” you chuckled, gushing at how your son held onto your finger as if it were his lifeline. “Would you like to hold him?”

Miguel nodded, and you carefully handed the baby to him. Big, bad, scary Miguel O’Hara was melting as he held his teeny tiny baby in his arms for the first time.

“Careful with the head,” you chided softly, to which he obliged.

Miguel stared at the baby in his arms. Well, more like the baby in his hands. He was so big; his hands almost covered his tiny body entirely. Miguel brought him close, smiling. The baby’s tiny lips were opened, eyes almost as if scrutinizing his father. Miguel chuckled at the sight – a few minutes old, and he was proving to be just like him already.

Miguel looked between the baby and you.

“Gabriel,” he whispered, searching for recognition in your eyes.

You granted him just that, accompanied by a smile.

“Gabriel. Little Gabriel O’Hara. He looks just like you, doesn’t he?”

Miguel nodded. He pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed, still holding little Gabriel. You reached out to him, tracing patterns on his arm.

“He’s perfect, [Y/N]. He’s just perfect. Thank you so much. I thought you’d given me the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for when we first got married,” he took his eyes off Gabriel to glance at you. “But like always, you’ve managed to surprise me. You gave me a son.”

Your smile widened and used your free hand to caress the baby’s small head.

“I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble,” he continued, voice dropping in agony. “If it weren’t for me… If it weren’t for these bloody genes…”

“Shh – don’t say another word.”

“[Y/N], please, you must know – “

“I won’t hear it.” You looked at him directly in his eyes. Those lovely, lovely brown eyes that you loved waking up to, and had sometimes even fantasized about your son inheriting. “I love you, Miguel. All of you. And I would do it all again if it meant I got to have you and our son right here, right now. You were right, it all worked out. Everything is fine. I have you, and I have our son. Our little Gabriel. And everything’s going to be alright.”

Miguel teared up himself.

Had this been his reward? What had he done to ever deserve you? Whatever it was, he was forever grateful.

He gazed down upon his son, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Gabriel’s dark eyelashes rested peacefully on top of his cheeks, and his pouty lips were slightly parted. He was perfect. Perfect in every way. He looked every bit like himself – but there was a soften on his features that reminded him of him.

“He seems so peaceful. You can’t fool me you little rascal, I know the troubles you caused your mother. You’ll pay for it someday,” Miguel joked, earning a giggle from you.

“He’s every bit like his father then. You’ve gotten me some troubles yourself, mister.”

“That I have.”

You two remained like this, in silence, for a few minutes, basking in this beautiful moment. It had been a rocky road, but you’d made it. Here you were, still standing, safe and sound. And here was your little Gabriel, resting peacefully on his arms.

Everything was right as it should be.

“I love you.” Miguel spoke. There were no words to describe what he was feeling now, but he thought this was a good way to start. “I love you so much. I love you and our son and our little family. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”

“I love you too Miguel. And our son.” You smiled. Shock, you looked marvellous. You always looked beautiful, and he was sure he’d never seen you look so beautiful first when you got married, then on your wedding night, and then the day you told him you were pregnant. But right here, right now – this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

“I’ll take care of you two forever, mi vida. Te lo prometo. I’ll be by your side until the end of time.” He reached out to wrap an arm around you, bringing you as close to his body as he could without hurting you.

Miguel had always been a truthful man.

But right now, as he held the entire world in both his arms, he swore he had never been so truthful as he pledged his undying love for you and Gabriel.

“You saved me, Miguel.” You mumbled, turning your face away from your son to look him in the eye. “You were my antidote after all.”

Miguel shook his head, kissing your forehead. You were terribly corny – a trait he found immensely charming in you.

“And you were mine.”

Everything was just fine.

Miguel had you, and his son.

He had you and Gabriel.

Everything was perfect.

A/N: And that's it! That's the ending! I hope that you guys liked it, and that it lived up to your expectations. I definitely missed writing for Miggy! My requests are open, so feel free to send in any ideas you might have for him! I'm excited to see what you guys have in mind!

Anyway, thank you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction

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Why Does Change Hurt So Much? Pt. 3

Joel Miller X Wife!Reader Ellie Williams X Dina

Surrogate or not, Ellie was absolutely Joel’s daughter and anyone who argued that she wasn’t could kick rocks. Maybe that was why you felt so protective over her, neither of you were blood related but there was a bond you’d never felt before. a/n:thank you to everyone who has read part 1 and 2! if you do read this feedback is much appreciated warnings:mentions of violence, mentions of wounds, Joel talking about his past, if i missed any please let me know! Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Joel was nearly comatose for a week, drifting in and out of consciousness every now and then as the nurses and doctor made their usual rounds. You didn’t bother to complain one bit, mainly thankful that he was even able to look at you for those brief seconds he was awake. Ellie had indeed brought food whenever she had managed to swing by the cafeteria. She offered to sit with him so you could go home and take a quick shower, which was much appreciated. While you knew there was a chance Joel could wake up while you weren’t there, he’d be more upset if you weren’t taking care of yourself. It was touch and go for the first couple of days, he sparked a very high fever that they couldn’t break. The incisions were healing nicely, no signs of infection which was your biggest worry. Now you just needed him to stay awake for longer than a minute and your mind would be put at ease.

“Hey, Ellie wasn’t able to make it but she wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” Jesse brought over a covered plate of food.

“Thank you, I honestly don’t think I would’ve eaten had it not been for you guys,” You smiled up at him, gently peeling off the foil to dig in.

“Yeah, it’s not easy watching someone you care about not knowing if they’ll survive,” It was upsetting to say the least, this was your world.

Jesse left after a couple more minutes, saying that he needed to attend to his daily duties and would have Ellie swing by later in the day. The food, while more lukewarm than hot, filled your stomach pleasantly. You’d have to make Joel some of his favorites while he was home for however long the doctor said. Maybe you could convince Maria to let you have some of the spare cocoa powder they had and make him a cake.

Joel’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before they opened, glancing around the room and taking everything in. He could feel you sitting beside him, the edge of the plate you were eating off of pressing against the back of his arm.

“Darling?” His throat felt dry, chest aching as he looked over at you.

“Joel! Oh thank god you’re awake!” You wanted to wrap your arms around him but there wasn’t much you could do without causing him pain.

“What happened?” He reached for your hand, grimacing at the way his chest protested.

“Seth and a couple of his asshole friends jumped you, Tommy found you outside and brought you to the infirmary,” You were angry, Tommy had admitted they’d found Seth and the two accomplices just as they were trying to escape the commune’s walls.

Tommy hadn’t said what they had done with the three men and as of right now you weren’t sure you wanted to know. Ellie would most likely speak her mind and make sure they suffered for what they’d done. There were times you wanted nothing more than to go down to the jail and torture them yourself. No, Joel needed you more than anything right now so getting your hands dirty wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Oh, makes sense,” Joel rested his head back against the pillows, having any kind of enemy was a death wish these days.

“Joel Allan Miller, you need to start being more careful!” Maybe yelling at him wasn’t the smartest idea, but goddamnit you were angry with the situation.

If you’d had any sense you would’ve slapped him for being so nonchalant about the entire situation. You couldn’t, and wouldn’t do that though.

“Ellie came by when you were in surgery, we have two new guests,” Maybe it was slightly petty, but Joel was still delirious and you were upset.

“Shit, she’s turning into me,” Joel pouted, reaching up to touch the gauze that covered his wounds.

“You knew exactly what was going to happen, she learned from the best,” You grabbed Joel’s hand before he could pick at the gauze.

He looked almost offended that you denied him of doing something so stupid. The last thing he needed was to irritate the stitches and cause an infection. You simply stared him down, waiting to see what retort he would come back with.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it earlier had to go on early patrol,” Ellie was still brushing off the fresh snow from her jacket as she walked inside.

One of the newcomers was standing behind her almost nervously, her eyes locked onto where Joel was lying, a million and one emotions flashing over her face. It was a sickening realization that she must’ve known who Joel was, there wasn’t any doubt in your mind.

“Hey it’s Ellie bean,” Joel chuckled, hissing out a breath at the pain in his ribs.

“Joel I haven’t been called that since I was fifteen,” Even though she rolled her eyes, the smile on her face gave her away.

“Still always gonna be my Ellie bean,” It was a nickname he’d come up with during one of their many outings.

You rolled your eyes and patted the back of his hand gently, he had stopped trying to go after the gauze finally so you felt it was safe enough for him to not be held down.

“I didn’t get your name the last time we met, I’m Y/N and this is my husband Joel,” You gestured from yourself over to Joel who looked ready to fall back asleep.

“I’m Abby, my friend you met last time is Lev, he’s with Dina right now,” So that’s why he wasn’t glued to her side anymore.

“I hope you’ve been able to settle in, Jackson can be kind of overwhelming if you’re not used to it,” It was true, you’d been terrified to leave your home for the first few weeks.

Abby went to respond before Ellie caught her attention, mentioning that they were serving pot roast at the cafeteria. You’d talk with Ellie later on about what you noticed, right now you needed to get some food into Joel before he passed out again.

“Sweetheart, you need to get some food and water into you before you take another nap, okay?” You didn’t want to push him, but he needed some nutrition.

Joel just nodded, head lolling to the side as you ran out of the building to go and get him something to drink and eat. Ellie and Abby were close enough that you could make out the expression of joy on Ellie’s face. While you didn’t want to confront Abby, you knew the truth was going to come out eventually. For now you were going to make sure your husband was fed before worrying about everything else.

Tommy had already packed up two plates, along with a thermos full of ice cold water for you to take back to Joel. It was nice to know that his brother cared about him so much, considering how much shit you’d gone through lately. How could you even bring up that one of the people from Joel’s past was now inside of Jackson’s walls? No, don’t start thinking about things like that, Joel is fine.

“Hey!” Shit, you were almost back to Joel.

“Hey, what’s up?” You turned to face Maria who was now standing across from you, her raised brow caught you off guard for a brief moment.

“I was heading over to see what Tommy was doing, but I can already see what that might have been. How’s he doing?” Maria was kind and friendly, but right now your emotions were running wild.

“He’s starting to stay awake for longer than a few seconds which is nice, Ellie swung by earlier to check on him,” And nearly gave you a heart attack as well.

Maria nodded to herself, looking down at her snow boots before her gaze locked back onto you. She could see right through you, and damnit it was not a nice feeling whatsoever.

“I met the new girl too, she seems friendly,” Just a few more steps and you’re home free.

“Yeah, Tommy met her yesterday, she’s gonna start training so they can see how she does on patrols,” Of course, they needed all hands on deck.

“Makes sense, Joel’s gonna be out of commission for a while so if you guys need me for anything please don’t hesitate to ask,” Sure you wouldn’t willingly leave Joel on his own, nor did you expect them to ever truly ask for your help.

Maria assured you she would ask if there was something you could help with, patrols would be off the table entirely. Could you even handle leaving Joel for longer than a few minutes? No, it sounded too painful to think about. You sighed to yourself and finished the walk back to the infirmary hoping that Joel had managed to either stay awake, or wake back up. To your delight, or horror you weren’t entirely sure, there was already someone in the room.

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone else would be here,” The woman turned her head, jumping up from the chair as if it shocked her.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone else here,” You narrowed your eyes at her, did she not know who he was? Who you were?

“I was just getting some food for my husband, for when he stays awake long enough to eat,” The air in the room filled with a tension that could’ve choked you, you held your ground and made it known you wouldn’t back down.

“He reminds me of my dad, maybe a little bit grayer but, yeah,” That wasn’t what you were expecting. Most women still tried to throw themselves at Joel, even when he made it known he wasn’t interested.

You set down the plates nearby, stepping over to the opposite side of the bed so that you could not only see this stranger, but also keep an eye on the door. The nurse would be making her rounds in a few minutes which helped ease your mind.

“How old was he?” You weren’t sure why you were trying to engage this girl in conversation, but it felt rude not to.

“Forty eight when he died, happened before my mom and I got to Jackson,” Too young, you hadn’t known Joel when he was that age.

“That’s so young, have you and your mom been here long?” Why did you feel protective of this girl now?

“A few years, we got here after Joel and Ellie came back,” You had already been living here for about a year when Joel Miller arrived with his daughter.

Surrogate or not, Ellie was absolutely Joel’s daughter and anyone who argued that she wasn’t could kick rocks. Maybe that was why you felt so protective over her, neither of you were blood related but there was a bond you’d never felt before.

“Sorry for barging in by the way, I had come in with my mom and got sidetracked,” The girl laughed nervously, stepping further away from the bed to make her escape.

“It’s okay,” You didn’t want to make things any more awkward for her.

The room fell silent as she all but ran out the door leaving you, and a once dead asleep Joel to occupy it. It was all the stress, you were overthinking everything after nearly losing Joel for the second time, nothing to worry about. 

“Smell food,” Joel mumbled slowly, hand reaching towards you blindly.

“Yes I brought food, figured you’d be hungry by now,” You stepped over to where the plates were, grabbing one to help Joel eat since he’d most likely need assistance now.

He managed to stay awake for nearly half the plate, humming after every few bites as you helped him eat. It was nice to know that he was still able to eat without any struggle, lord knows you had been worried he’d start to lose too much weight being in bed. 

“I heard Ellie came by with someone, is she nice?” His eyes were slightly unfocused, though you weren’t entirely surprised.

“Yeah she’s friendly, they’re training her to see if she’d be good for patrols,” It was easier to tell Joel the good things about what’s been going on lately.

Would you ever tell any of them the truth about who she was? Or would you keep it all hidden away so they never knew? Shit, this wasn’t going as planned and you were getting more stressed by the second. Joel could practically feel the unease pouring off of you in waves, what had gotten you so worried that you wouldn’t talk to him about it?

“They found Seth!” Ellie burst into the room, sneakers skidding to a squeaky halt when she realized that Joel was awake.

“Why were they looking for ‘im?” Joel was still groggy, eyes drooping as he fought off the tight grip sleep had on him.

“Joel, Seth is the reason you’re in the hospital,” Ellie raised a brow at him, had he completely forgotten what happened?

Joel grumbled under his breath, pulling the blanket higher to fight off the chill that lingered in the room. Shit, if he’d forgotten something like that, then what else was he bound to forget?

“Isn’t the first time I got put into the infirmary for protecting someone I cared about,” That caused your brow to furrow in confusion, what had that meant?

“Joel?” You turned towards him, abandoning the plate you were about to eat off of.

“Tess was being stalked by this guy, so I decided to pay him a visit, ended up killing him but the fucker got a good enough jab that I had internal bleeding,” You’d always known that Joel was protective of those he cared about, but to hear this shocked you.

“I swear to god Joel, if I find out that you’re here because of Tom,” Joel snickered to himself, grimacing as the pain in his side spread over his entire stomach.

“He fucking deserved what happened, wouldn’t leave you alone,” Maybe it was the protective side in him, maybe it was seeing one of his closest friends nearly get killed, who knows.

Tess threw her hands up, walking away before she could berate Joel any further and end up saying something that was mean. The plus side was Tom wouldn’t be around to stalk her around the QZ anymore. No, no rewarding Joel for making terrible decisions that were going to get him killed one day.

“No more picking fights, the last thing we need is you getting killed because some asshole decided that I would be his next victim,” Tess could defend herself, having done it for years before meeting Joel.

“You know that’s not going to happen, gonna protect you no matter what,” Joel would fight until his last breath, no matter who it was for.

“Joel,” You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks, he’d been through so much that you were completely unaware of.everything that had happened to him.

Joel frowned, opening his arms as much as was feasible and held them out towards you. You all but threw yourself into his embrace, tears soaking into the thin t-shirt he had on. This man had defended so many people and what did he get in return? Ellie walked over quietly, wrapping her arms around the both of you in what she hoped was a comforting embrace.

“I love you so much, don’t you ever forget that,” You pressed your face further into his chest, sighing in relief when his arms wrapped tighter around you and Ellie.

“I love you too, both of you,” Joel ruffled Ellie’s hair, chuckling when she pushed his arm away with a huff.

Things were going to work out perfectly fine, you’d have Joel back in the house before you knew it and he’d be back working with the sheep. It was all going to be fine.

-

Everything was in fact, not fine, as Joel’s body healed and his ribs were no longer broken, he was adamant about getting daily exercise to make sure that he didn’t get sick. Tommy had mentioned they’d taken care of the men who attacked Joel, Ellie was oddly quiet that day. Joel had tried to engage her in conversation but she continuously shut him down. It had you worried that something had happened during the “trial” a few people had attended. You had wanted to go, to watch Seth suffer for what he’d done, but Joel needed you at home.

“They executed them, everyone” Ellie was quiet, legs pulled up so her chin rested on her knees.

“They attacked Joel after he defended you, I’m sure they would’ve done much worse,” You had a feeling something had happened but to hear that they were executed made you feel some type of way.

Joel hadn’t asked about Seth, or his ridiculous goons even after he was back home in the comfort of his own bed. You were somewhat thankful Joel hadn’t said a word, more curious about his past than anything. You knew about Tess, about how they’d met Bill and Frank through the radio, the lunches they would have out in the countryside. It made you wish you knew more about him, about the man he was before the world collapsed.

“Does this make us bad people?” Ellie had always been afraid of being lumped in with people like raiders, they were the scum of the earth.

“Getting rid of a few people to save hundreds is sometimes the best thing to do,” Maybe killing someone wasn’t the best thing to do, but if Seth was willing to try and kill Joel because he defended Ellie? It didn’t matter how upset you were, Seth had to go.

The one thing you would never let Ellie believe is that she’s a bad person for doing what it takes to stay alive. There were plenty of things in your past that would make Ellie think twice about ever trusting you again.

“Hey, could I talk to you?” Abby, the newcomer you’d slowly warmed up to, was standing beside the table you and Ellie were sitting at.

“Uhh, yeah, of course,” You pushed yourself up from the table, letting Ellie know to stay so you wouldn’t lose out on your seat.

Abby quickly talked outside, shoulders hunched forwards as if she was afraid to say what was on her mind. Would this be the big breakthrough that you were waiting for? Shit, how was this conversation even going to go? She turned down one of the alley’s, if it could even be considered that, and stopped when the two of you were about halfway down.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my fault that your husband came back hurt the first time. My friend and I were looking for supplies and that’s when I realized he was even in the room with us,” She sighed, playing with the end of her braid nervously.

“He didn’t even put up a fight when I stabbed him, just grabbed my wrist so I couldn’t run off too quickly. I was afraid he was there to kill us, wouldn’t be the first time I was stalked by someone looking to settle a score,” Her voice slowly trailed off, leaving you both confused and oddly comforted.

You had always known that Joel wouldn’t fight a kid, not after seeing what Ellie had gone through years prior. Then again Joel wasn’t above killing someone if it meant keeping himself safe during patrols either.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You weren’t mad, the world outside of Jackson was scary and you’d gladly stay inside if it meant being safe.

“You deserved to know the truth, that Joel wasn’t picking fights when everything happened,” The two of you locked eyes for a brief moment, the sudden realization that she was just a kid hit you like a ton of bricks.

Abby couldn’t have been any older than twenty, which in your eyes made her a kid just like Ellie was. She was a scared kid that was trying to find her way in the world just like everyone else was. You couldn’t even imagine how old her friend was, probably barely even a teenager if his height was anything to go by.

“I’m not mad, was I upset finding out Joel had gotten hurt? Of course, but I know how dangerous this world can be, you don’t have to apologize,” It wasn’t even an apology that you needed to hear, Joel needed it more than anyone.

You weren’t going to do that to Abby though, not with Joel just being out of the hospital recently and back in the house. There was no telling how he would react to being told that the person who’d stabbed him was living comfortably in Jackson as well. Things would be okay, after a conversation with your husband you’re sure.

“I just felt terrible, and then I ran into Ellie during their last supply run and I didn’t have the guts to say who I was,” Her hands were shaking now, a frown pulling down your face.

Before you could question yourself you pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her shoulders to let her know that she was safe. If things were different you’d surely never forgive the teenager for harming him, but the world wasn’t normal anymore.

“You don’t have to apologize, just try and stay out of trouble from now on, okay?” You patted her back gently, releasing her from the hug as the two of you went your separate ways.

Things were slightly tense between you and Ellie once you got back inside, she was curious as to what Abby had to say and you weren’t comfortable spilling those details. After a few minutes of prodding she eventually gave up and continued eating the food she’d ordered. You would tell Joel eventually, when he wasn’t so tense and willing to risk his health because he was upset.

Everything would be just fine, you were sure of it, Joel would understand why you didn’t tell him and Ellie just wouldn’t need to know. This was the right thing to do.

“So how are you and Dina doing?” Maybe a topic change would do you guys some good.

“Really good, we’re gonna hang out later tonight unless you and Joel need us?” Ellie would drop everything if it meant getting back to a normalcy with Joel.

“No, I think we’re just going to relax on the couch and read tonight, not much he can do with his ribs still healing,” That was a partial lie, you would be reading while Joel napped on you.

It would be a peaceful night at least, nothing to do except read one of the new books Tommy had given you and make sure Joel took his medicine to make sure he didn’t fall again. That was nearly as scary as when he had arrived with an infected wound after three weeks. Joel would never admit that he had fallen though, his pride would take too much of a hit. The man was just too stubborn, though you found it endearing most of the time when he admitted his little faults. You never told anyone about the issues he had, whether it was his knee giving out or nearly burning dinner because he'd forgotten to turn off the stove.

"Are you sure this is going to be comfortable for you?" You didn't want to argue with him, but while you had plenty of pillows to lie on, Joel just had your body.

"Yes, now open the damn book and get to reading so I can take a nice nap," You rolled your eyes, opening the book up to page 1.

Joel smiled to himself, situating himself so that he was laying on top of you with his head against your chest. He was a typical man, and laying on his wife's chest was too comfortable for him to deny and say it wasn't. He was damn near positive Tommy did the same thing with his wife whenever he wanted somewhere comfy to rest his head.

The book was interesting enough, sucking you into the fictional world of knights and kings. The amount of bloodshed was downright shocking to you, it felt as if they were writing about your current world, and not one hundreds of years in the past. Joel had fallen asleep within a few minutes of you reading, lightly snoring as his arms wrapped around your waist. You propped the book up on his back, turning the pages with your fingers carefully.

You had started to run your fingers through his hair, smiling at how soft the strands were even after his latest hospital stay. Of course that got your mind wandering, who had ever gotten the chance to see Joel like this? Had he opened himself up to Tess like this? Or had he kept his heart closed off in fear he'd get hurt once again and be left in the dark? No, it was silly to think of something so miniscule, Joel had loved you and that was that. Just because he didn't tell you every single thing about his life didn't mean he didn't love you.

Shit, your mind was slowly spiraling with the negative thoughts and there was nothing you could do to stop them. It was better to let everything run its course instead of trying to fight it off and making it worse. Joel would be able to sense that you were upset when he woke up. Maybe you could bring up everything then, have an adult conversation and figure out all these emotions together. That wouldn't be such a bad idea, it was better than bottling it all up inside until you exploded on him.

That's it, you're going to wait until Joel wakes up and have an adult conversation about how you're currently feeling. That way you can both figure out the best course of action instead of acting like two idiots. Ellie had more adult conversations than you did, so clearly you could do whatever you set your mind to. 

"Hmmph," Joel rubbed his face into your chest, tightening his arms for a brief moment before he relaxed once more.

You were afraid you'd woken him up during your internal monologue, but looking down there were no signs he was awake at all. The conversation could wait, for now you would enjoy this new book and the weight of your husband's body. Easy enough.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller and ellie williams #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller comfort #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller father figure #joel miller masterlist #joel miller gifs #ellie williams #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #abby and lev #abby anderson

[quietlyimplode]

Black Widow Fest - Day Six

Stay Alive.

Warnings: broken bones and car chases, swearing?

Word Count: 2047

Pairing: Clint/Nat

@broken--bow asked - and I should have replied to the ask box rather than making a post, but we’ve come too far now - for a fic where (as in the hunger games with Peeta and Katniss) a simple thing is asked, to stay alive, even though it turns out to be one of the harder things to do. Ty for sending in solid asks, my friend, they are ⭐️.

“How is this the first time you’ve ever broken your collar bone?”

Clint shrugs, regrets it and pouts.

“Do broken collarbones always need surgery?” Natasha asks the doctor.

The doctor looks to her clipboard and then back to Clint.

“No, not always, but if you leave these things for a week and keep…”

She looks back down and quirks her eyebrows

“Keep shooting arrows and guns?”

Clint smiles, easily.

Natasha stands in front of him, knowing his fake smile hides the worry of questions he won’t ask.

“He’ll be able to shoot again, right? No problem?”

He peeks out from behind her to watch the doctor nod.

“Yes, of course, but he needs to let this heal, 4 weeks in a sling. And physiotherapy - the you need to follow - otherwise, you’ll always have pain and it will always not feel straight.”

Natasha smirks, sharing a look with Clint.

“Guess I won’t be coming with you then,” he says, holding her hand with his good one.

“Surgery is scheduled for around 1.30pm, don’t have any more to eat or drink.”

She turns to Natasha, “you’ll be here to pick him up?”

Natasha’s face turns sour.

“Uh, no actually. Maria will be here, um a friend. I’ll leave my number and her number here though, in case you need anything, or if he’s not being cooperative.”

“Hey,” Clint pipes up, “drugged me is delightful.”

The doctor puts her clipboard away, and nods.

“I’m sure Mr Barton. No food, no drink until we come and get you. Ms Romanoff, you can stay until he goes in if you want.”

Natasha nods, sighing softly as she sits down next to him

“You’ll be okay here without me?” she asks, guilt on her face.

“Of course,” he tells her, “it’s a simple operation, no gunshot wounds, no knife wounds, no complex broken bones or head injury. It’s easy in and out.”

Natasha smirks again, “that’s what she said.”

Clint laughs and winces.

“Where are they sending you?” he asks, knowing she’s now going alone.

“Vladivostok.”

“You’re not.”

His stomach drops.

“Nat, you’re going into Russia, alone?”

She swallows and nods with a small smile. More of a grimace, he thinks.

He wants nothing more than to talk this through with her, tell her not to go, and hug her tight.

“I’m the only one that knows the dialect.”

He hates this.

He also hates that if he hadn’t asked, she wouldn’t have said anything, not complained, just gone.. Whilst he was under and couldn’t do anything.

He still can’t. He’s going into surgery, and she’s going to Russia alone.

The laughter from seconds ago is now abject fear for her.

The small peninsula town.

Anyone could spot her.

Know her.

Take her.

“It’s only for a day, not even. More like hours. In and out,” she tries.

He tries too.

“That’s what she said.”

Except this time, they both don’t laugh.

He moves over in the single bed and motions for her to sit.

Hesitating slightly, she crawls next to him.

Using his good arm he encircles her and kisses the top of her head.

“You’ll be okay?” he whispers.

The nurse comes in and cocks her head at the way they’re curled.

“I need to put the drip in, Mr Barton,” she tells him.

Natasha starts to move away, the nurse stops her, tells her to stay.

“I can move around you, don’t move, hun.”

Clint looks away as his vein is pierced.

“All done,” she says, moving away.

“They’ll be back in fifteen minutes to take you up, okay?”

She turns to Natasha, “you can stay in the waiting room, but it may be a while.”

Natasha looks at her watch.

“No, it’s okay I need to leave soon anyway.”

The nurse nods and leaves the room.

He continues to hold her, bring her head down so that it’s touching his.

“I have to go,” she sighs, not moving a muscle.

“When exactly will you be home?”

“Tuesday 11.20pm, the flight should land.”

She really is counting down the time.

“Stay Alive,” Clint tells her, looking at her directly in the eyes.

Slowly she manoeuvres her body out, kisses him softly and breathes him in.

“Maria will be here when you wake up, and I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He growls, the sound low and guttural.

“Promise me again.”

“I promise.”

One last kiss and she finally stands.

“Stay alive, Natasha,” his voice commanding.

Head butting him again, and one last peck, she waves off his worry and leaves the hospital room as the nurse returns.

She says something to the nurse that he can’t hear but he lays back in his worry and prays the next two days go quickly.

.

Vladivostok is not what she expected, or remembered.

Slightly removed from the mainland, Natasha sighs and pushes down the apprehension.

The last time she was here, she has visited a widow and his daughter, made them give her information. It had been a pleasant trip, ending with some candy.

The hire car is slow, white and generic and the gps guides her to the meet with the man Fury had deemed worthy of her time.

Clint would be out of surgery now, she hopes anyway. She wants to message Maria and make sure they’re all okay, but her cloned phone doesn’t have the level of security and her own phone is in the locker at the airport.

She was now Rosa Tuttle for all intents and purposes, and so she acted as such.

Blonde wig.

Long nails.

Make up to change the structure of her face.

She was not Natasha Romanoff.

And she was not worried about her partner.

The café is a small hole in the wall.

Posters line the walls, maybe to cover some holes, the corners peeling and old. The old woman approaches her, scarf covering her hair as she shuffled around.

Natasha orders the strongest coffee she can think and the woman nods with a gentle smile.

She faces the door, eyes on the two exits and waits.

The man that enters afterwards is dishevelled; her mark clearly.

“Hello,” she smiles.

He hands her an envelope and looks around in vigilance.

Natasha has seen this before, the skittishness of man who is too stupid to follow the basic instructions. They think they’re smarter and can be better at basic espionage than the people they’re informing on.

“You didn’t follow the rules, did you Igor?”

He looks behind him, and the car he’s parked haphazardly out the front.

“It’s fine. We do this quickly. This is the information. Where is my money?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“No, it is not fine. You think you weren’t being watched? That the Komutet Gosudarstvennoi Bezopasnosti, don’t have eyes everywhere, even here in Vladivostok?”

He looks guilty, shocked and scared, and knows she’s right. Especially when a large black car pulls up next to his blue one.

Natasha sighs heavily, looks to the back exit and pushes him towards it.

She apologizes to the woman and tells her to tell them which way they’ve gone. She doesn’t want the elderly woman’s blood on her hands.

Natasha’s car is old, but the fact that everyone here has a similar one, she’s confident of losing the tail they’ll surely have.

“Get in.”

The words are said harshly as he moves slowly, fear locking him up and making him move slow.

He does eventually and she drives away carefully.

The KGB knows though.

She sometimes forgets how much autocracy it is here, and how closely the citizens are watched.

“Igor. How long have they been watching you for?”

“They aren’t. They’re not, they..” he stutters, looking back around at the cars that surround him.

There’s two options Natasha can think of.

Run and hide.

Fight.

Neither are good options.

If they hide, she’s not making her flight.

Not going home to Clint and spending another day in a country she feels least safe in.

Fight.

Well there’s an option that she’s not getting out alive if she does that.

“Igor, you’re not helping yourself.”

The first shot ricochets off the car, and Natasha’s mind is made up.

Fight it is.

Calling quickly off the sat com phone, she puts the distress through, finding Fury on the other end.

Whilst not strange in itself, she knows there are others who could be on the night phone for this.

“Ah, we are coming in hot, the idiot didn’t follow procedures, and we have the KGB on our tail. Any exit plan?”

Fury’s silent and considering as she hears him typing and then..

“There’s a boat, the contact will meet you in 15 minutes if you can get there.”

Natasha looks down and nods.

“Affirmative, we’ll be there.”

Igor looks terrified.

There’s cars around them and although there’s still bullets flying, Natasha’s mind is clear.

“What did he say?” Igor asks.

She ignores him.

The side street she turns down is narrow enough that only one car can follow and she tells Igor to get ready to move.

He doesn’t need to, the car is hit on the side at full speed and it flips into the nearby building. Natasha is held by her seatbelt, but Igor, who never wore his, is thrown out of the car through the windshield.

Natasha assumes he’s dead on impact, not moving, his body brokenly laying on the asphalt.

She has bigger issues.

Held by a seatbelt that didn’t release, upside down and a dripping blood nose, she works at wiggling out.

Clint’s voice echoes in her head.

Her knife finally cuts through the seatbelt and she’s dumped upside down onto the ceiling of the car.

Pain pulses through the her left arm.

Ignoring it, she crawls out, grabbing the files she came for.

She needs to disappear, get out of here and get to the rendezvous point in less than ten minutes.

Natasha wipes her face.

Her wig now askew.

If she takes it off, there’s a greater chance of being recognised for who she is.

If she doesn’t, they’ll find her quick.

If only she had time to go back to the airport.

Natasha rolls her eyes, remembering. Her phone and her jacket.

Fuck.

Wiping the blood from her nose, she hopes Fury can send someone for them.

She hates starting a new phone again. In reality she shouldn’t have taken it but she was worried about Clint being in surgery. It feels stupid now. It was just resetting the bone.

Deciding on removing the wig and tying her hair up, she changes her appearance quickly.

Her arm hurts.

Quickly checking, she finds the quickest way to the port, and moves.

7 minutes.

At 3 minutes she finds the boat.

At two minutes, she’s on the boat.

And as time is up, they’re moving out of the port and she’s in the cabin, with the captain by the name of Ned steering her away.

.

“Broken collarbone? You’re kidding me.”

Clint laughs, arm in a sling.

“She what?”

The doctor points to the break and tells them again.

“When you landed, you must have landed on your shoulder because it looks like it’s a kind of green stick fracture. Unlike his, which needed surgery, it’s likely yours will just heal with immobilization and a sling.”

Clint laughs again, gleefully.

“Matching slings!”

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“How long am I benched for?”

The doctor looks to Clint, and then back to Natasha.

“You’ll probably be going back at the same time.”

“Six weeks?!” Natasha exclaims incredulously.

The doctor nods.

“If you both immobilize it, do the rehab and take care of it.”

Clint smiles.

“Don’t worry, Doc. She has a good right hand and I have a good left one. We’ll be a good team.”

The doctor remains straight faced, then can’t hide her smile as Clint helps Natasha back up.

She sets Natasha up with a sling and teaches her how to strap it.

Watching the two spies leave, the doctor watches as Clint readjusts their positions so he can half hug her.

Even though she hopes to never see them, she knows it’s likely they’ll be back before she knows it.

.

#bwfest2023 #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #hawkeye #marvel fic #clintasha fic #ask away

[rachaelswrites]

Hospital Visit

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!reader

Word Count: 507

Requested By: Anonymous

Could you please do a fic where Nat's daughter (reader) gets hurt, so they have to go the hospital, but R is really scared even though they're like 15 cuz they hate doctors and needles and stuff but Nat's really calm about it and they gte through the whole thing with fluff??

A/N: Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of injury, hospitals, and medication

“No I’m not going,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. The P.E teacher, school nurse, and paramedics had been trying to coax you into the ambulance for about ten minutes now.

“Miss Romanoff we have to transport you just to make sure there’s nothing internal that we can’t see,” the paramedic said nicely.

You shook your head again, not budging from your spot on the ground, “It’s a broken leg.”

“You fell from the top of the rock wall Y/n,” your teacher said, “We just have to make sure it’s nothing more than a broken leg.”

“Call my mom and have her pick me up cause I’m not going to the hospital.”

All the adults looked at each other and the nurse spoke up, “I already called her and she said to get her in the ambulance no matter what.”

“Fine I’ll do it myself,” you said, standing up slowly and limping to the back of the ambulance.

~~~~~

They got you on a gurney and wheeled you into the hospital ER entrance. They got you set up in a room but you didn’t want to do anything until your mom was with you. Hospitals were your least favorite place to be since you were so scared of needles and doctors and everything else that was in a hospital. You weren’t scared of much but hospitals were one of them.

You only had to wait about twenty minutes until your mom got there and made it into your room, “How are you feeling?” she asked, making her way inside the room and sitting in the chair next to your bed.

“Do I have to be here?” you asked, “Are you sure I can’t just get a cast and go home?”

Natasha chuckled at your insistence to leave, “You’re fine дорогой,” she said, “I’ll stay with you the whole time the doctors are here and I'll make sure they don’t do anything that will hurt you okay?” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it, hoping to make you feel a bit better.

You nodded, “You’ll stay the whole time?”

“As long as they’ll let me,” she said, nodding.

~~~~~

The doctors had a difficult time dealing with you, even with your mom there trying to calm you down. The pain from your leg was starting to kick in so they gave you medication to help with that and help you to relax. They were able to run their tests on you and you were free to go by dinner that night. You were still a bit loopy from the meds when your mom brought you home so she had to practically carry you to the couch.

“Do you need anything?” she asked, sitting next to you.

You shook your head and snuggled up to her, “I love you mama,” you said, laying your head on her shoulder.

“I love you too дорогой,” she said, kissing the top of your head, “Now, try to get some sleep okay?”

“M’kay,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and falling asleep.

Taglist

@i-writes-things

Marvel

`

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov

[idontplaytrack]

“you’re a softie”

warnings: mentions/descriptions of anxiety, medical gaslighting, chronic pain & illness

- rosa diaz x teen daughter!reader -

part 2

rosa’s always been a private person, you knew her reasons for not telling her friends about you. however, it wasn’t exactly like it ever came up after all the (very limited) knowledge they had about your mother. but of course, one person on the 99th precinct squad was the exception- captain holt.

the day was going by as per usual, until diaz abruptly went onto the terrace to answer a phone call. the noise startles the relatively quiet bullpen, but they resumed their respective work tasks. “what’s going on with rosa?”

“hm?” amy asks, still distracted by her paperwork.

“rosa seems very…i dunno. have we ever seen her showing this much emotion on her face? that isn’t annoyance or anger?” jake shrugs, pointing at rosa who was currently on the phone with you.

“she doesn’t look happy though. that can’t be good.” amy seethed. just as she finished her sentence, rosa reenters the bullpen and was immediately headed for holt’s office. she knocks, he allows her to enter.

“diaz. how may i help you?”

“my daughter called me. i need to take her home from school. her symptoms have been flaring up for awhile. i don’t want her to get hurt if she makes her own way home.”

“very well. i understand. how much time do you need?”

“can i clock out now? i’m not sure if i need to take her to the hospital or not because she’s not really talking to me- i’ll stay later tomorrow and do whatever task you assign me.” rosa promised.

“hand over the work on your desk to me and you may clock out.” holt decided.

“thanks.” rosa swiftly walked to her desk to grab the small stack of files and turned it in to holt, then left the precinct without another word.

————

“i can’t believe you won’t let me get a car.” rosa scoffs playfully.

“and let you part ways with your motorcycle? I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“i can have both, you know?” rosa bit back a smile, “are you sure you don’t want me to get us a cab home?”

“hurts, but eh.” you shrug.

“hospital?”

“just let me curl up in bed for a couple days, they’ll just hook me up to an iv and give me the same meds i have at home.” you sigh, “i’m due for an mri in two weeks anyway- i can tough it out till then.” rosa pulls you to the side, “i don’t want you to tough it out. your doctor already said that if the pain suddenly worsens and persists you can go in to see her.”

“ i can, but i won’t.”

“you amaze me.” rosa huffs, “flareups cause you a 8-9 out of 10 pain and you can walk, spend a whole day out.”

“all thanks to the whole year of medical gaslighting. had to learn how to function with the symptoms.”

you two board the subway and rosa spots a seat. she nudges you to sit down but you refused. “sit. down.” she insisted. “fine, fine.” you gave in, she stands in front of you, keeping the conversation going to keep your mind off of the pain. “how was school today?”

“just did worksheets and asked questions if i had any. but, lunch did suck.”

“why? someone give you trouble?”

“no, the food was revolting.”

rosa lets out a soft laugh, “is there anything i can do to make you feel better?”

“i already had you abandon your work at 2pm. i feel bad as it is. i could’ve went home myself.”

“yeah, i’m not risking that.” rosa scoffs, “nice try.”

“how about a slice of pizza from your favourite place? or two?” rosa suggests.

“if you want.” you shrug, tired.

getting off the subway, she leads you to your favourite pizza place - it was a short walk. pushing the door open, the bell above the door tinkles. “hey, y/n!” the usual counter staff, ana, spotted you. “ay, rough day?”

“she’s not feeling well.” rosa answered on your behalf.

“pobrecita.” ana frowns, “usual order?”

“yep.” rosa nodded curtly, “2 slices sausage. 2 slices pepperoni.”

“of course, just a minute.” the older lady smiled. rosa paid, then took you to the side to wait away from, the crowd. she had a protective arm around you. “i’ll be fine.” you glanced up at her. “i don’t care. you’re my baby.” to you, this was the norm, but still quite rare. you just knew her coworkers would kill to hear this interaction.

after picking up your order, you and rosa resumed your journey home. the last stretch was a nine minute walk from the pizza place. once at home, you excused yourself and went to change into your favourite loungewear set. that made you feel a tad better: to be out gross sweaty clothes. soon after you emerged from, your bedroom, rosa walked out from hers donning a plain black tank top and a pair of matching leggings.

“let’s eat.” rosa tilted her head toward the dining area. you walk over before she did and laid the table. “ana gave us free garlic knots and sauce again.”

“she always does that when you go there with me.” she smirked. you chuckled, sitting down. “didn’t you tell her to stop doing that?”

“i did, but she likes giving you a little treat. her words, not mine.” rosa shrugged, “the lady’s happy. let her do it. she’s been there since before i had you- she’s kinda like another abuelita of yours. besides, she won’t take my money. i tried to pay her back for the extras she gave, but she wouldn’t take it.”

you fought back a laugh, “what?”

“it’s true.” she places the box containing the pepperoni pizza in front of you, “she’s been there for years.”

“i know.” the laughter mellows out and you quietly ate your slice, your mind drifts off. rosa caught you spacing out almost instantly. you caught her gaze for a moment, “i’m fine. just trying not to think about anything at all, actually.”

she shrugs. “how was work?”

“the recent cases are nothing too intense so i won’t be working too much overtime, i hope. it was a good day, though.”

“good. why?”

you saw that subtle glimmer in her eyes, “you know, don’t you? you just want me to say it.”

you gave her cheeky grin as you chewed your food.

“ha! some things really don’t change.” she remarked, “you always gave me this…grin even when you were really little.”

“you’re a softie.” you teased her. she purses her lips together, her attempt of trying not to smile or laugh. which failed - the corner of her lips tug into a small smile.

“take a nap after this.” she changes the subject abruptly.

“okay, softie.” you pout.

————

the remainder of yesterday went by like clockwork during a flareup for you. so it was uneventful in rosa’s opinion, and she was glad to be back at work the next day because that meant you were in less pain than you were before. “why’d you leave work so early yesterday?”

“not talking about that, jake.” she told him absentmindedly, focused on her computer screen.

“oookay.”

“i’m not kidding.” she glares at him. he rolls back to his desk on his chair, “i’m gonna keep bothering you till i find out~”

“not gonna happen.”

“diaz, my office.” holt stepped into the bullpen briefly. rosa followed him inside silently. “you don’t have to work over time this evening.”

“i can.”

“there is no need.” holt reiterated, “there isn’t any paperwork that needs to be done.”

“okay.” rosa acknowledges with a nod, “is there anything else?”

“yes, how is your daughter doing?” he asked, which caught rosa by surprise.

“better. she’s at school again.”

“that is good to hear. dismissed.”

as soon as rosa shut holt’s office door behind herself, jake returned with the same question. “shut up.” rosa’s phone beeps, jake beats her to it. “oh! your phone’s not on silent mode like it usually would.” he peeks at the screen, “oh my god, rosa-”

“what?” rosa deadpanned, “give it back.”

scared, jake handed the device over. but it wasn’t just that. rosa’s been way more guarded up ever since your recent diagnosis of this chronic illness— which your doctor told you was a rare disease. by the name of aggressive fibromatosis. something apparently ‘harmless’ but has been the root cause of your pain and sleepless nights. the name alone terrified you, even rosa. but more so when she sees you go through a flareup episode. for the first time in her life, she felt helpless. she hadn’t told anyone other than holt, and he didn’t even know the specifics. it took a very long time for you to get answers. doctor after doctor brushed you off and painted you as crazy or dramatic, telling you it was either period cramps or all in your head. day after day, rosa’s anger grew but her patience depleted. she was desperate for you to get the help you needed and she was so, so relieved that you did now. but despite knowing she would probably need the help of her friends in one way or another regarding your situation, she was still choosing to keep this to herself.

but, you were absolutely right about one thing. she was softie. but only you have seen this side of her, and maybe arlo- but he was a puppy. which sadly passed away some time ago.

“who is she? why’s she calling you softie?” asked jake, eagerly.

“give it up, jake.“ rosa exhaled sharply, “give it up.”

“fine, softie.”

#rosa diaz #rosa diaz x daughter reader #b99 #brooklynninenine #alternateuniverse #comfort #sickfic

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Imagine: You have the power to travel through the Multiverse, and you’re at the mercy of a witch who desperately wants to be with her children. (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff/Yandere!Scarlet Witch x female!multiversal traveler!reader)

*Not my GIF.

(CW: Attempted murder, mind control sort-of?)

Author’s Note: I got this idea from an ASMR video funnily enough. Reader is 18+

The ring idea was inspired from @lizziesblueberries​ and I might use it again in a future fic because I like it.

Your heart is racing as you’re restrained to the altar in Chthon’s temple. The witch who had taken you captive is now walking over to you. A witch so desperate to be with her children that she’s willing to take your powers; you know what’s going to happen if she does.

“This isn’t what your children would want!” you exclaim.

There’s a moment of silence.

“They’ll never know.”

“Maybe not,” you agree. “But you will.”

A moment of silence passes before you feel a pulling pain. You see your magic flow out of you, and you begin to feel yourself becoming weaker and weaker. You don’t want to lose your magic or your life, but there’s no way she’ll let you go until she gets what she wants. Of course you can understand the pain of longing for someone to love and you even feel some of the agony with her. You lost your family and friends when Earth-838 Doctor Strange caused an incursion in your universe. And there are no other versions of them. 

They said that everyone died. You were the exception. The one that had escaped in time because you developed these powers that she’s trying to take from you. You need to save yourself.

That’s when you get an idea.

“Wait!” you exclaim, your voice straining from the pain. “What if I stayed with you?!”

Out of nowhere, the agony disappears, replaced by a moment of silence.

“Stayed with me?” she asks.

You nod quickly before talking a mile a minute.

“I-I’ll take you to a universe where they don’t have a mom a-and you can take care of them. A-and if they get sick, I can take you to a universe where they have a cure for it. You’d never lose them again.”

The silence that passes is agonizing as your heart bangs against your chest. Will she take you up on your offer? Or is this still the end for you? 

Suddenly you feel the restraints disappear and then something touching your ring finger. You look to see a sort-of scarlet ring with a gem shaped like her tiara glowing on it.

“Wh-what’s this?” you ask as she helps you sit up.

She smiles gently.

“Oh, just a little something to make sure you see your promise through,” she tells you.

She helps you off the altar. You feel a bit off-balance and she holds you steady. 

“Still feeling a bit unbalanced, aren’t we,” she asks.

You nod when you feel her fingers run through your hair.

“You have such lovely hair, you know,” she tells you softly, whispering in your ear.

For some reason, this makes your heart flutter. Weird. Wasn’t she just trying to take your powers a second ago? Maybe it’s just misattribution of arousal. Or misattribution of love, in your case. 

“I’m actually quite glad you made that offer,” she confesses. “I’d hate to kill such a lovely lady like you.”

Once again your heart flutters and you feel your cheeks flush. You hear her chuckle. 

“You’re quite a cutie too.”

A smile begins to form on your face. You’re beginning to doubt that “misattribution of love” theory of yours. Maybe it’s spontaneous affection. After all, you don’t have any family, no friends, nothing, and no one. It’s the same with her. Perhaps it was fate that you two crossed paths. Perhaps you two are meant to be together.

“Perhaps,” she says.

You yelp, forgetting that she’s telepathic, and blush. She giggles once more.

“Alright, alright, if you get too adorable, I might have a heart attack. Now we should be on our way.”

You nod and concentrate on finding a dimension. Meanwhile, the Scarlet Witch looks on with a loving, but twisted, smile. What you don’t know is that it wasn’t your own idea to stay with her. Oh no....she put that idea in your head herself. She didn’t want to kill you. She knew that you had no one. And you are rather lovely. Rather sweet, rather adorable. She took a look inside your mind; you have a lot of love to give, still believing that there’s good in the world. A sweet soul, her heart tending to be in the right place, but a heart that had been broken after losing everyone you loved. She even saw that you felt her pain. No one else deserves someone with such powers, with such love. With you by her side, she could enslave the multiverse if she wanted. But that’s not what she wants. What she wants is her children. And now you as well.

Wanda wasn’t lying about the ring; it is to ensure that you fulfill the promise. However she left out just a few details; the ring can’t be taken off, for one. It makes it so that you can only go a certain distance away from her before you begin to feel unbearable agony. The ring would also ensure that she knew where you were at all times when you’re out of sight. It also allows her to read your mind whenever she wishes and send ideas to it, and the ring makes you more susceptible to accepting these ideas, making you believe that they’re your own. 

The ring also automatically sends oxytocin to your brain whenever you see her, touch her or when she touches you, and when she speaks, laughs, smiles, etc,. She wants you to feel as much love for her as she feels for you, which is a lot. It also makes you more suggestible to her commands and automatically protects you from anyone and anything that tries to hurt or kill you. One of her favorite bits was that the ring made it so that she could get you to think about her as much as she wanted for as long as she wanted. It also adds to the oxytocin clause, meaning that she could make you fall head over heels for her permanently, another feature of the ring.

Because no one else deserves such an angel like you. 

No one but the Scarlet Witch.

#yandere wanda maximoff x fem!reader #yandere wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #yandere scarlet witch #dark scarlet witch #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #yandere marvel #yandere avengers

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Nine

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} we’re getting into the thick of it now :’) Chapter 10 is already almost done too! i'm constantly writing- now that were getting to the burn part it’s just exuding from my pores and onto the virtual page. can you believe i've been writing all of this on my phone?! 

i hope you guys are enjoying it. ♡

thank you so much for hanging in and reading as always!

{gif by michaelmercer} 

enjoy ♡ 

Chapter Nine - Fighting the Same Battle

She trusted me.  

Now that was something I never thought I’d hear her say.  

I tried to make sense of the sentiment, to calm the way I felt when she said it. In a matter of minutes she’d gone from enemy to friendly. There was a sense of relief in that.  

What a new mix of sensation it offered.  

I could only stare at the girl, completely lost for words. I knew being honest was always the correct path despite what the ONI and Halsey may have practiced, but being as blunt as Cortana had been with her seemed to do the trick to get her to understand.  

Why hadn’t I thought to be that way with her before? Well, it was classified then. It was different now. Cortana was right, we were fighting the same battle. Albeit for different reasons, yet somehow they were still similar. She wanted away from the UNSC and all the pain it seemed to have caused her. I…  

Wasn’t sure what I wanted...  

A little more thought brought it around. They caused me more trouble than I ever realized, and I wanted the truth. I wanted to know what this Keystone had to do with myself, my past. I wanted to know who cleared Halsey to do this to us to begin with and why she thought it would be a good idea to polish us into blank canvases to do the heavy lifting for her. I could never bring my parents back. But, I wanted to know who I was, who I could’ve been..  

If there was anyone other than a Spartan who could understand how that felt, I realized then, that it might’ve been {Y/N}.  

Anger surfaced when I thought about how Halsey was to blame for both of us. Remembering that I trusted her, had faith in her my entire life, felt like no one else could ever fill her shoes, only rubbed it in further.  

————

Both Cortana and John looked at me as though I’d just spoken Sangheili to them though I couldn’t exactly read either of their faces. Maybe it was a little insane to see the semblance we now shared; to suddenly voice that I trusted him despite all of the push-back I’d done.

Where it had perplexed me before, The Master Chief’s intense insistence on my revealing what I’d seen and heard on The Covenant ship to Doctor Halsey became clear. He was simply trying to piece together his own history. His own forgotten memories of a life he once had. And it wasn’t just that, but he was dealing with a plethora of feelings, too. How could I blame him for it? I’d dealt with emotion all my life. I was still unsure of it all.

“Where are we going?” I pressed further, though he nor Cortana responded to my last statement.

After a beat, John’s shoulders loosened, his line of sight drifting to another corner of the craft.

“Rubble.”

“What?” I immediately piped up.

“You’ll stay with someone I can trust once I’m gone.”

“No, you can’t send me back there, please. They’ll find me in no time, they’ll–” I cut myself short.

They’ll find Astra, too, I thought instead. Though there was no real reason to take her in, I was afraid they’d use her as a bargaining chip to get to me. I hadn’t given much thought to where I’d end up once all of this was over, but while it was still going strong, especially while we were wanted, I couldn’t go back there.

“It’s what’s best,” John finalized through what sounded like a quiet sigh.

I was too preoccupied with our next location to be concerned with whether or not he still found me annoying. I shook my head, nearly unable to stop as I stood from my own place on the floor, as though I’d be able to run away again.

“I won’t go back there. You can’t leave me there..”

I had no tears left to give, but I could feel my face burning hot with emotion.

“Perhaps.. Given the circumstances, it might not be too far-fetched to head in another direction,” Cortana suggested.

“I already sent Kai to Rubble with The Artifact,” John seemed to remind her, his tone stern.

Though it felt like news to me, I vaguely remembered hearing him tell Cortana about direction back on Reach. I was so dazed, so much in shock, that I hadn’t put two and two together. The Blessed One who belonged to The Covenant popped into my head once more. I could still feel her cold stare burning into my own retinas. My skin crawled. Did she know where to find us? Was our escape going to end up a trap if the Keystone was in either of our hands again?

“Trajectories are changeable,” Cortana started. “I’m sure once she arrives and notices you’re not there—“

“She’ll think I set her up for failure. I can’t do that to her.”

I tried to think of a way to help resolve the issue and still stay away from Rubble. It felt impossible, now dealing with a set of problems that I hadn’t had any experience in. Wrangling disobedient Spartans had to be a task in and of itself. It didn’t make it right, but it was no wonder Doctor Halsey felt the need to suppress them so harshly.

“Maybe.. we go to Rubble,” I began to compromise. “Just until The Keystone is secure. And then—“

“We change course with {Y/N},” Cortana finished for me. “An idea worth considering, when headquarters is more than likely pinpointing and pursuing various locations in the area already. If they manage to grab her, it’s your head on the chopping block later.”

But John looked unamused; more so than usual.

“And when Kai gets back to Reach? Without me there—“

“She’ll deal with the consequences. She’s a big girl, Chief. She can handle herself. She knows you’re not exactly the favorite at the moment, but she took the directive and ran with it without question. I, for one, believe in Kai. She exhibits similar traits as you do. I don’t think it’ll take her much work to avoid any unfavorable outcomes for her insubordination— Especially if Halsey needs her to keep quiet. Which she absolutely does.”

Cortana eyed John, but immediately spoke again. “I can tell what you’re thinking. Another missing Spartan wouldn’t look good for anyone. Doctor Halsey would be better off disappearing herself.”

The cogs were turning in his head, it was visible, but The Master Chief stayed adamant.

“We almost lost her on the field,” John responded, staring back at me instead. He seemed to peel his eyes away again to head back to the front of the ship. “She locked up, panicked. She nearly got herself killed at a critical moment. I can leave {Y/N} with Soren and Kwan. I’m sure they’ll figure it out from there until the heat dies down. Safely.”

I could only stare as the two countered one another. They both seemed to have their reasonings. But it almost hurt to hear that he was just going to dump me back on Rubble like.. nothing. Never to be seen again. I knew I had been the one coming around, my perspective of the Spartan shifting into something more favorable. It was probably silly of me to assume he’d been warming up to me, too. Clearly, it was.

“It was a learning experience,” Cortana began again. “Just look how Kai has handled since! You’re forgetting, if she’s already executed the objective, she’s steps ahead of the credit you’re currently giving her. Odds are she was already in hot water for not showing up with Riz and Vannak when you were in the process of escaping with {Y/N}, anyway. She’s a Spartan, Chief. She’s got more than what it takes.”

It felt nice to have someone on my side, fighting for what I wanted. Though I highly doubted Cortana was doing it for my sake, probably John’s more than anything, it was welcome all the same.

“Please, Master Chief..” was all I could silently utter, my voice lost in their conversation.

I couldn't explain the real reason that I tried to bury; that I didn’t feel safe without him near anymore, especially after the way he’d protected me so readily when we were being chased. Giving into emotion just a little more, it meant something to me. Where I’d often felt as though no one cared, he showed me otherwise just moments ago. And whether it was the hero complex I thought the soldiers maintained or not, I found myself uncaring of that aspect. His humanity continued to shine through with each little gesture. I couldn’t ignore that.

Even if he wanted to leave me back on Rubble. He did mention my safety..

————

When I looked into her eyes, it was almost unnerving, the pleading she was doing with me. Not because it made me uneasy, but because I didn’t know how to give her what she wanted with the best possible outcome.

After everything that happened, how could I deny her the one thing she asked for? I had no other place to take her, to leave her. Especially not one where I knew she’d be safe. I’d only known where previous missions had sent Silver Team. No planet was truly secure.  

I didn’t know why I cared that she’d be safe. I let Cortana’s words roll back around in my head.

‘Smitten.’  

Was that the instinct I felt? I felt compelled to make sure Kwan Ha was in good hands, but this? This was entirely different all the way around. There was no connection with Kwan, just making sure the right thing was done when they’d ordered Article 72 on an innocent person. My first real leap into the world of right and wrong.

But smitten… Smitten was extremely close to ‘love’ and other heavy emotions that seemed too daunting to take on and way beyond my scope. I silently hoped the feeling was controllable when I forced myself to look away from {Y/N} and head back to the cockpit.  

Still, I stopped in the entryway, turning to face her again. There was an odd pull toward her that was suddenly constantly eating at me. I pushed myself to ignore it.  

And for once in my entire life as an armored Spartan, I felt grotesquely monstrous in my Mjolnir— like the demon they all claimed me to be; intimidating when I didn’t intend it. The girl had been shaken enough. She deserved something softer, less imposing. These things we’d dealt with weren’t easy for anyone to handle. I could see the way she still faintly trembled, and our first encounter in the abandoned house on Rubble came to mind. It was surprising to see what she could withstand.

Maybe she would’ve made a decent marine after all.  

“We’ll go to Rubble,” I began, noticing the way her face immediately fell. “And then Eridanus II.”  

Her chest seemed to deflate with a sigh of relief, her eyes closing briefly. It was going to be hell for us both if they found us, but I just couldn’t disappoint her anymore in that regard. That was the only place remotely empty that I knew. I’d decide what to do with The Keystone once we’d settled.

“Cortana, do you have the coordinates to our last locale on Eridanus? My, last locale,” I corrected.  

“Of course,” she said, not missing a beat. “I’ll pull it up.”

Finding my way back into the seat, I let my body relax as much as I could without fighting it. My eyes were heavy, and while that was a rare occurrence, I was beginning to feel the effects of the day. Staring out into the vastness of space, I spoke as quietly as I possibly could when I noticed Cortana had sized herself back down and stood in the same spot on the panel she’d been before.  

“What is this that I’m feeling, really?” I asked.

A smirk placed itself on her features.  

“I’m serious, Cortana.”  

The A.I. dropped her act, holding her hands behind her back and pondering for only a few seconds.

“As I mentioned previously, it could have something to do with the connection you two share over the Keystone. Or…” She lifted her chin just so. “You’ve found some kind of kinship in her. She understands you, and you’ve lacked said familiar biological source for quite some time, if always. It’s possible that alone has your heart racing when you‘re around her. This seems to happen often in humans who are less experienced in the ways of human interaction. Teenagers are more susceptible, for instance, and it’s like what your species would call ‘puppy love,’ if you will. Given your status with the pellet being removed for the first time since adolescence, it’s not an unnatural response.”

“Stop,” I held my hand up. “L—,”

I shook my head, unable to finish the thought.  

“That’s not what this is. It has to be the Keystone.”  

“If you say so,” she muttered through her teeth, clearly unbelieving of my statement.  

I glanced behind my shoulder, noticing {Y/N} had curled herself back up into a ball as far down the ship as possible against the interior, her frame illuminated only by the starlight that poured in through the windows. The sight of her in that position kicked up a sensation of what I recognized to be empathy. It wasn’t as tolerable as I thought it would be.

The previously mentioned ‘hug’ surfaced back into my thoughts.  

“Devil's advocate,” I began again, still quiet, though I was sure {Y/N} couldn’t hear anything past our voices murmuring. “What if that is what I’m feeling?”

“Well, Chief, I’m afraid I can’t help you much in that department. I’m in your neural interface, but your emotions and decisions are your own. How you decide to act on that is entirely up to you. You’ve already tested my limits, remember?”

She cocked a brow.  

Always helpful, this one.  

“I don’t know how to act on it. I don’t.. Does she…”

“Feel the same way?” she questioned, leaning forward to get a better look at me before glancing in her direction, too.  

I stayed silent. I’d never felt so.. juvenile. Even as kids, this kind of subject matter was the furthest thing from our minds.  

“I can’t speak for her. But, the cues I’ve picked up on might insinuate that she isn’t opposed to your presence.”

“Isn’t opposed to my presence,” I snorted indignantly. “You’ve really got a way with words.”

“Oh, I’m the one ruining your idea of love?”  

A scowl placed itself on my features. The word just sounded like it would taste bitter on my own tongue. It wasn’t an idea I had at all. ‘ Love’ was for the marines who’d grown too close over too long of time away from home, fraternization cases waiting to happen. It meant busted ranks. Distractions on duty. It held no place in a Spartan’s world. The closest thing we had was our loyalty to each other— and even when we lost a brother or sister, it was business as usual.  

Until we opened our eyes, of course.

This girl and I, we had no real reason to be engaged in anything of the sort. It didn’t matter to me that this could be a symptom of being repressed for so long. As far as I understood, something that deep that people seemed to value so highly took time. Effort. Energy. All things that had never taken place between us. If I didn’t have an HUD and Cortana, I might not even know her full name. So why did I feel so drawn to her? How could this have happened the way it did? From one minute to the next… It frustrated me above anything else.  

But Cortana seemed to throw the idea around like it was normal. Just another cog in the machine. I didn’t care how much {Y/N} and I suddenly ‘understood’ each other; how beautiful I found her. How unfamiliarly gentle she was when she’d taken my hand into hers..  

I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes; tried to ignore my own thoughts as they escaped me so easily when it came to letting myself think of her.  

The A.I.’s brow furrowed.  

“Your levels….” she trailed off before inhaling and starting up again, more seriously than before. “Chief, I know you have little experience in this, and I’m currently incapable of experiencing emotion in the same way you do, but the only directive that seems right, is to follow whatever your heart and instinct is telling you to do. It seems.. And, correct me if I’m wrong— that you’ve already been allowing it to lead the way without even realizing it.”  

Cortana looked around, indicating our current situation.  

Giving it more thought, there was no correction needed.  

————

I opened and closed my palm, wiggling my fingers delicately as I thought of the way he looked when I took his hand. He looked confused, shocked, almost. I wasn’t sure how to take that, and the moment stuck with me more than I thought it would. While I was embarrassed at my own instinct at the time, I didn’t regret my action. If it offered him any sort of solace, any inkling of kindness, it was alright with me. He didn’t pull away from me, and the thought that maybe he felt similarly to the way I did crossed my mind.

John more than likely hated me at this point with all of the extra stress I caused him and countless others. But all I wanted to do was show him that not everyone was so untrustworthy as the people he dealt with; not everyone wanted to gain something from him, or use him up the way he’d been his entire life. He made me feel safe. It seemed silly, especially given his status— the galaxy’s own protector, but I wanted to do the same for him in any way that I could.

Something told me no one ever bothered to make him feel protected. I was sure it was something he never felt he needed, or even gave much thought to.

The wall I’d built simply because of my own jadedness with the world I knew, seemed to be near nonexistent now. He wasn’t happy that Cortana outed his new experience with life and all it entailed to me, but it made all the difference. It allowed me to rethink the way I felt, to reevaluate my own guarded nature with him.

It wasn’t his fault. I’d had no real experience with a Spartan, just what I’d heard, what I’d seen. How blind I suddenly felt about the entire ordeal.

And I’d had enough time to think about what was happening in the present, sitting curled up in the back of the craft. After a while, it occurred to me that I’d never actually expressed my gratitude for his help. While he’d taken me in to begin with, he was now risking everything to get me as far away as possible.

That also meant something. No one had ever tried to right any kind of wrong with me— whether he saw it that way or not.

Without a sound, I stood from my place and quietly moseyed over toward the cockpit. Remaining far enough away, I wanted to provide the two privacy in whatever conversation they were having. It was clear I didn’t need to be privy to it, and I respected that the best I could within the limited space.

“Master Chief?” I called out– though still quietly, provided the area. He immediately turned around to face me.

The movement was so quick, it almost startled me. It reminded me of someone who was waiting for something awful to happen at any given moment, hoping they’d be able to prevent it. I imagined that must've been how he lived his life, and that tugged at my heartstrings. Never being able to fully relax, never knowing what a moment of peace felt like. While I didn’t have it quite as bad, I knew how that could feel, too.

He stared at me without a word, his eyes intense, waiting.

“I never did get to say thank you,” I spoke softly, almost nervous, now. “For taking me out of there.. I’m not sure what Doctor Halsey was going to do with me after the tests were over, but I can’t imagine it would’ve been good.”

He leaned back a little, as though that wasn’t what he expected from me. I supposed there were going to be a lot of ‘unexpecteds’ between us in the time to come.

Cortana peeked over at him, a hint of a smile on her face.

“And thank you, too, Cortana,” I continued, a hand finding its way to my opposite arm, rubbing absently at a bruise from Halsey’s collection of data.

“Don’t mention it,” she quipped happily.

But John remained stoic, intense. He nodded once vaguely, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re welcome.”

I bowed my head just a bit before turning around to find my place again. I wasn’t expecting some grand speech or show, his response was enough. All I needed was for him to know that I did appreciate his willingness to throw it all on the line for me. But it was what happened next that surprised me most of all.

“Hey,” John breathed.

I stopped, facing him again in slight shock.

A few seconds passed, and with a heavy sigh, he stood from his place, and lifted an arm in my direction.

Confusion was my initial reaction, and he picked up on that quickly, clearly knowing this would be confusing to anyone. His hand then motioned me in for… a hug. His expression still seemed quite disconnected, but I didn’t take it personally. I was sure it had to be hard for him to even offer up the gesture to begin with.

And while I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, I couldn’t help myself. I needed the comfort. I needed to feel something other than fear and exhaustion. I didn’t want to think that I may have needed some part of him, too. That would’ve been a scarier realization to come to that I wasn’t sure I was ready for, either, especially so soon.

I nearly ran into his arms, uncaring of the bulky, cold metal that encased him. His strong arm latched around my small frame, squeezing gently— so gently in fact, that I wondered if he thought he’d crush me otherwise.

I’d never felt so delicate, and it was even more amusing that the sensation surfaced in the arms of a fully armored Spartan.

But I finally let go.

Melting completely against The Master Chief, I stood, my arms squeezing around his immovable build until they were sore, tears I didn’t know I had left streaming between the rough alloy and my skin. I felt his arm tighten, the other moving to wrap around me in turn as my body shook gently. He must’ve decided my breakdown in his arms was worth the entire embrace.

I couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t try to read what he was thinking or even begin to explain myself. All I could do was feel an insurmountable amount of emotion like a million waves breaking over the shore. And while there was no body heat between us, no extra detail to the touch we shared, it was more than enough.

It was genuine. It was all I needed.

My collapse was no longer just about recent events, but the entirety of my life and how derailed it had become over time. It all tied in together. From being left on Rubble as a child, to being here now, with John. I’d stolen the Keystone, I’d brought this upon myself. But it all seemed intertwined, connected. As though maybe fate had brought me here. To learn about my parents, to help him learn about himself. I was tired, stressed, feeling unstable in more ways than one. He had to be, too. I didn’t care how strong he was or what wars he’d fought and won. There was no way he wasn’t. All of these events had become very, very personal.

There wasn’t another word shared between us, just my sniffling and quiet sobbing that I was unable to control. Typically, I would’ve been slightly mortified to be seen in such a way. But in the mess we were in, there was no room for that. We were fighting the same battle now, just like Cortana said. For the time being, we only had each other. I needed his hug like I needed air— and it hadn’t even occurred to me until it happened.

His hand began to rub my back ever so slightly— he seemed so cautious, so careful for being so large and menacing the green titanium, riddled with dents and pings from our escape. In the midst of it all I tried to put myself in his shoes, to really understand the gravity of just how much he was dealing with, just how much he was possibly losing over me and his mission to search for himself. The bullets he took and the fists he’d faired, the plasma he’d dodged and the reputation he’d garnered.. and not just recently, but for as long as he could remember.

For just a brief moment, while I knew he meant to comfort me, I wondered who the embrace was really for.

-x-x-x-

Tags: @grimistangel​

#master chief x reader #master chief #master chief fanfiction #master chief fanfic #halo fanfiction #Pablo Schreiber x reader #cortana #halo fanfic #halo the series #halo #halo tv #halo series #reader fanfiction #pablo schreiber #Pablo Schreiber fanfic #halo tv series #john 117 #halo paramount #halo paramount+ #fanfiction #halo the show #halo tv show

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

Centauri Flu

A Lost In Space fic that never got posted, published one year ago today! 😄

Lost in Space Judy is sick, Don takes care of her. (pining, angst, hurt/comfort) WC: 3,205 ao3

"I’m fine, leave me alone. I have a practical in two hours….I’ve been studying all week." The room swooped around Judy, Judy swooping in return, Don lunged catching her. “Uhh-huh. And that there was just you dancing, right?” She glared, snapping out, “Don’t be stupid, I don’t dance, I didn’t even go to Prom.” Don kept his steadying hold firm, laughing, “Trust me, I know, you told me. That’s still something we need to correct by the way,” and then slightly more serious, "but right now, you need a bed, or a couch, or a comfy chair and maybe some tea. Definitely soup and rest.” His hand was tucked snugly into her waist, arm wrapping around her back as he guided her shuffling feet through the kitchen. She pushed at him weakly, twisting and turning as much as she could without making the room spin, when a coughing fit attacked, her lungs unable to inhale fully and choking on the exhale, forcing Judy to double over, briefly glad of his support. “I’m fine” she groaned more to convince herself than anything once she caught her breath. “Jude, you’re clearly sick. Or unwell. I don’t know, I’m not the doctor here. But I do know you, and this ain’t you, Sweetheart.”

She gritted her teeth at the term of endearment. All of his nicknames irritated her, his overbearing nature bothered her. They weren’t dating and they weren’t together. They weren’t with anyone else either though. He was waiting. Waiting for her to finish med school. Didn’t want to "be a distraction” he’d said. Sometimes she got the feeling he was just scared. She tried to explain that med school could take years…that it was offensive to suggest she’d let feelings interfere with her career. That they should try it out, see how things went now. He wouldn’t give in though, so they weren’t together, but their relationship felt an awful lot like a Relationship.

“Don’t you have work? Shouldn’t you be somewhere?” she swatted at his hands trying again to pull out of his grasp as she righted herself. Her head throbbed and every joint felt like it’d been hit with a brick. She pushed through the pain, tears pushing through her eyes, trying to get him to comply, to leave her alone. “And anyway, if I were sick, the hospital would be the perfect place for me.”

Don wasn’t going for it. He couldn’t leave her like this, wouldn’t leave her. “Day off." he beamed, "You’re right, the hospital is the perfect place for you, sick or otherwise. And if I thought you could be trusted to actually seek help for whatever is currently afflicting you, you would have my full support in going there. But as you made very clear just a few minutes ago, you’d only be going for school, and we both know you’d be disappointed with your performance in this state.” He was sitting her down on the couch, hand moving to her forehead. She was burning up. Heat radiated from all around her.

He was right, she knew, and it made her mad that he was right. She tilted her head away, she didn’t need him caring for her. She was the doting one, she was the older sibling, the one that took care of people, she didn’t need him doing that. “Stop. If I don’t go, they’ll fail me. I need valid paperwork.” She felt like a furnace had been lit inside her, the room sweltering. "It’s so hot. Don. Is the ambient temperature monitor not working?” She fanned at her face and peeled off her top collapsing against the back of the cool chair.

Under normal circumstances he’d probably take a second to appreciate the view that was Judy’s firm body in nothing but a bralette and scrubs, but as it was all he could do was become increasingly more concerned for her. "Doc, it’s working just fine, that’s your fever.” His mouth was a hard line of determined worry. “You need a sweater, I’m taking you to the hospital. And I’m staying. And then I’m making sure that paperwork gets forwarded to your professor or whatever you call them and I’m bringing you right back here as soon as they clear you to come home. I’m making you soup and I’m tucking you in and Jesus Christ if you ever tell anyone about this I swear to God Judy-”

Judy’s lips curled despite her frustration and whatever pathogenic warfare was taking place inside her, “I wouldn't think of telling Ava... or Cassidy...or Tony about my nurse, Don West."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully, “ 'Think I’d look sexy in the uniform though.” finishing with a flourishing wink before extending both hands out “Alright, to the hospital it is then.” and snatched her hoodie from the door on their way.

At the hospital a handful of people inevitably recognized her, it was still a small place after all and she was there most days learning, shadowing, practicing, testing…but everyone steered clear once they got within steps of her, not wanting to catch whatever it was Judy had. They’d been camped out in the waiting room for some time before being seen. The fluorescent lights above, and constant beep and swoosh of the doors did little to alleviate her pain and dizziness. Don had taken up residence in the chair next to her. He was wrapped around her protectively, hands never straying too far from some part of Judy, face creased in worry and agitation. She wondered if this is what he looked like when he’d rescued Penny, wrapping her in that blanket, holding her close, comforting her, warming her. Probably not.

“Judy Robinson?!” They were taken in to a small room off the main hall, A doctor she was familiar with did the examination. Don had been permitted in the room only because Judy had ok’d it, but she was starting to regret that decision, becoming deeply embarrassed at his ridiculous involvement. He was answering and asking questions and describing and reminding her of actions and symptoms from earlier, being too forward and familiar for her liking in this setting where nearly everyone knew her.

The doctor, not having a definitive answer for her illness, but having seen the same symptoms making their rounds and knowing what meds were working to help mitigate symptoms, gave her a shot of steroids and a round of pain killers, along with strict orders to “take it easy” and “ingest lots of fluids” finishing with “it should be over in 24-48 hours.” Don prompted the doctor to fill out paperwork excusing Judy from the day’s practical and made sure it got where it was supposed to go. Judy’s frustration grew at what she took as being infantilized, what the fuck was his problem? She wasn’t a helpless child. Is that how he saw her? Is that why he wouldn’t... The doctor though, amused at his attentiveness, asked the obvious question, “This your boyfriend, Robinson?” Judy rolled her eyes with an accompanying huff of “Hardly”. It stung. He knew he had no right for it to, but it did. The question stung her, he had no right to act this way when he wouldn’t act on it. “Well, hardly boyfriend, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but make sure she gets home ok and follows orders, we’ll send over a round of antibiotics in about an hour.” Don elbow bumped the woman in leu of a handshake and said he would before walking out just behind Judy, spotting her.

The day so far had taken a lot out of her, physically, emotionally, she was drained. By the time they got back to the house, wether due to pain meds, exhaustion, illness, or some combination of all three, she could barely muster the strength to unbuckle her seatbelt let alone walk the 40 or so feet to the door. Angry and unwilling to admit needing help though, she pushed on trying anyway, scoffing at his “Wait I’ll help." Don had just enough time to run to the opposite side of the chariot before she face planted yelling “Damn it, Judy, wait!” catching her mid-descent. He grunted against the awkward position of her full weight before scooping her up. "You’re a terrible listener. You’re a student?” He teased carrying her to the house. Her eyes were closed to stop the spinning but she could feel his breath on her neck and his heart beat against her shoulder. "You’re not my teacher.” she responded in slow shallow breaths. Being so close, taking in the smell of him, the feel of him, she wasn’t so mad anymore. “Doesn’t mean I won’t teach you a thing or two...” Her mouth quirked, voice at the edge of sleep as he shifted her in his arms unlocking and opening the front door, "Don’t threaten me with a good time, West.” She let her head fall, nuzzling into his collar slipping into slumber for the next few steps waking only at the light shake he gave and “Jude, bed or couch?” His voice was low and soft, it lulled her despite pulling her out of the vortex sucking her in. “Take me to bed…” and though she’d meant it in the most base way, a simple answer to his question, she enjoyed the feeling of his heart speeding up it’s thub-dub against her shoulder.

He carried her through the house, easing her down as gently as he could onto the covers of her bed. Don stood watching her, taking in every detail. Her skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, lips slightly trembling, and color too pale. She was still feverish, but at least she had been seen by medical professionals and they seemed to think people were living through this just fine. He sucked his top lip in, chewing it, thinking through what he should do next; let her rest? Make food? Try to move her again to cover her with a blanket? She let out a small groan as her eyes fluttered open a crack to find him. “Take a picture, it'll….” she drifted off just as quickly, remark left unfinished. It drove him crazy seeing her like this, not knowing how to help, knowing there wasn’t much that could be helped. He felt anxious and fidgety and like he wasn't doing enough but knowing there was nothing to be done.

Get it together, West, it’s just a space flu, it’s not like she’s being torn apart by alien robots.

She shivered again and he moved to sit on the edge of her bed, mattress dipping and legs rolling against him as he leaned over to bring the free edge of her blanket from the other side across her. He pushed a stray lock of coils off her forehead before making to get up.

He shouldn’t be here, watching her, so close. He was letting things get mixed up. He didn’t mean to do it, it’s just he cared for her... She worked hard, and he didn’t want to fuck it all up for her. He’d never been a fuck up before, he wasn’t going to be one now. No. He needed to leave before he did something stupid.

She could feel the heat seeping out of her every pore, but inside she was sub-zero, so cold, so different from earlier. She felt him next to her, her thighs against his back, and she wished he’d lay down with her, give her the full length of him to roll into, to sponge delicious heat from. She felt him lean over her and she could feel him tuck her in, just like he’d said he would. In her mind she smiled, but she knew her face hadn’t moved a muscle.

Easing up off the bed, she could feel the mattress gently lift under her, legs raising and lids following suit once more. “Abandoning me, West?” A rueful smile cracked his lips at being caught “I was going to heat up some soup, Princess. But thanks for calling my character into question.” The puff of air from her nose was meant to be a laugh, and her brow furrowed, “Stay.” Judy slid her hand out patting the bed. He dropped his head to the side, resigned and slipped off his boots walking to the other side of her bed, propping himself up against the headboard leaving space between him, the blanket, and her. With effort she turned, crying out a painful moan and erasing the space he’d carefully crafted. She curled against him, head nestling into warm lap, inhaling him. The unique blend of eucalyptus and dirt and oil and spice soothing her into quiet darkness.It wasn’t what she wanted, but it would do for now.

For a while he fought the urge, simply studying her sleeping figure, the soft flair of her nose, the twitch of her brow, the gentle murmur of lips. She wasn’t resting peacefully, that much he could tell, and so eventually his hand drifted from it’s place on the pillow next to her, brushing across her forehead, thumb swiping over soft damp skin in slow even arches. He could feel the difference from earlier, her fever was breaking, not as hot to the touch. Her face calmed and her breathing evened under the caress, molding her face further into the heat of him, lips washing breath down his leg.

For a long while he continued, movement trance-like combined with the steady rise and fall of her blanket, rise: left, right, fall: up, off, rise: left, right, fall: up, off, until he was sure she was out. Further medication was dropped off by delivery, but he hadn’t felt like he could leave her until now. Gradually he stopped, and gently he scooted out from under her and off the bed careful not to disturb sleeping Judy. He took pains to step as quietly as he could exiting to get water and retrieve the antibiotics from the porch.

While up, Don shuffled through the Robinson pantry looking for soup. He moved pre-made chili, and peaches John had canned the summer before, freeze-dried ramen packets, and mac and cheese cups, identifying one lone can of chicken soup way in the back.

Sorry, Deb, but Sister Agnes always said, nothing heals faster than the magical broth of chicken bones.

Don had given up chicken early on after a few awkwardly attempted meals, and as he spent a lot of time with the Robinsons they’d also all but given up the tasty poultry, he took it as a sign that this one was still here.

Finding a tray, he arranged the bowl of steaming golden soup, some crackers, a glass of water, and a cup of tea on it along with a round of medication and walked back to Judy’s room.

“Thought you’d left.” she looked up at him coming in. “You did not.” he argued back, nudging her over and sitting with the tray. The ghost of a smile crossed her face and she leaned up against her pillow, “Yeah, I heard the tea kettle whistling, that or your singing.” “Nice. Nice to see you’re feeling better. I do not sound like that, by the way. Here take these, they dropped um off while you were out.” He picked up the pills and placed them in her upturned palm, fingertips tickling skin as he released them, thumb brushing a trail on her wrist, eyes meeting. The touch, electric.

Don looked away back to the food, something not so soft and dangerous, clearing his throat. "Anyway. We have soup, crackers, tea, and water, what do you want first, Doctor Robinson?" “I want you to kiss me.” It was light, but she was firm, gaze never straying from his face, ready for when it returned, heated and heavy, prepped for assault. He laughed quiet and warm, glancing back up “That’s the meds talking, Doc.” She chewed her lip, considering how to convince him. “But it’s not, and you know it." Don sighed softly, sad at the truth of her statement and the choice he’d made, he drug his gaze away. “Yeah…maybe.” He was the one keeping them apart. This wasn’t a new conversation, they’d talked about it months ago. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it anymore, if he was being honest. Fear? Some moral obligation? It wasn’t feeling very moral at this point.

Don looked back and her hand was still extended, perfectly frozen in time. “Princess, you need to take those.” His voice was velvet and deep, the way he made it just for her, when it was only them. A sly smile crept across her face, "I forgot how…” “Judy-“ It was a warning, he knew where she was going, he couldn’t meet her there... “Help me?” And he had to laugh at the predictability of it, because it was predicable wasn’t it? She frowned at his laughter, position unchanged.

He moved the tray off his lap and on to the floor, feeling there was only one way the DOCTOR was going to take her medicine. Once again he took the pills in his fingers, “These,” he said low, raising an eyebrow, “go here.” He slipped them into her open mouth, his breath catching at her lips dragging down his thumb, kicking himself for not seeing that coming.

He felt like giving up, not seeing a reason not to any more. Is this what it took? Not the eminent danger of a persistent fleet of singleminded murderous aliens, but microscopic invaders, easily overcome, to force his hand, break him, and shelf the idea that they shouldn’t be together? Her tenderly wanting him; not to save lives, not to be a hero, but to just be? People had always wanted him, needed him, but for what he could do for them, what he could get them, what he could fix. No one ever wanted him, just him. The thought that Judy would...

Staring at him with deep intensity she made no move to swallow, holding the medication on her tongue. “Jude, you need to swallow, they aren’t the dissolvable kind... -Jude” he urged, smiling nervously, unsure of his next move. She continued to stair him down, ear falling to her shoulder in question. The corners of his eyes tightened fractionally, a wordless argument between the two. Eventually, he relented, giving in to more than just the game. Don leaned forward, fingers resting lightly on the column of her throat, lips hovering millimeters from hers. His thumb gently stroked down the side, massaging the muscles, he murmured “Relax and swallow, Princess.” Suddenly that name wasn't bothering her anymore, she swallowed hard at the command, and instantly his lips pressed into hers, hand still stroking against pulse, mouth drawing her in. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, finally having won. Lip against lip, gentle and slow, undulating, glide, press. Slide, press. she could taste him all around her and he could feel her smile against him. “What?” he whispered between kisses. Judy let her head fall back releasing her grip “Just glad that’s finally settled.”

#robinwest #lost in space #judy robinson #don west #sick fic #hurt comfort #kisses #medication assistance #snails tales #ao3 #fanfic

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming 62

CW: Non-con - asphyxiation - pain - implied body horror

I wanted her to stop touching me.

Briar had been silent since Bridget walked away. She just stood behind me while she hummed and brushed my hair. I wanted to smack her hands away, but the drug was still paralyzing my muscles. I could do nothing but look forward and look at myself in the mirror. Looking like some kind of doll Briar was dressing up. I hated wearing bright colors like this.

“I can recognize you’re upset.” Briar’s voice wasn’t condescending. That would have been  better. It was the voice of a doctor trying to talk to me. I remember the tone well enough for the one session I had with a therapist on campus when I was in college. I hated how it sounded. “It must be strange to be like this. Ragdoll was your invention, regardless of whether you discovered it by accident or not. No one thinks they’ll be on the receiving end of something like that.”

“Maybe you ought to try it.” I made eye contact with her in the mirror and glared at her. It fell a bit short when she hit another snag in my hair and I flinched. “Would shut you up for a few minutes at least.”

“It’s cute that you think you can be threatening right now. Maybe you were the big scary breaker to the victims you tortured in your custom made room, but right now all I can see in the mirror is a cute girl in a pretty yellow dress.” She leaned down so her face was right next to mine and smiled. “A pretty girl who is completely helpless to do anything by herself. Ragdoll is pretty amazing, isn’t it? I could just walk out that door and come back in two days and you’ll still be here. Probably sitting in a puddle. Flora would probably be upset if you ruined one of her chairs though.”

I knew enough to recognize a threat when I heard one. The contract required that I get breaks. I’d get plenty of those if I was just left here a few days on my own. It would probably be an easier time than being actively tortured, but days without food and water while being left alone with my thoughts was also its own kind of torture.

I was spared having to answer by a knock at the door. Briar gave my hair a few more strokes with the brush before she put it down and went to answer the door. I couldn’t see the hallway from here, but I could heard them.

“Miss Briar, I have fetched the wheelchair.” There was a weird pause before Bridget kept talking. “This was the one the staff said would be best?”

“Thank you Bridget.” I wear the two walk back towards me, the wheelchair coming into view as well.

It was oddly plush. The cushions looked comfortable, something I had a hard time believing that Rayne or Flora would bother getting. There were straps on the arm and footrests. They were most likely there to make sure a slave that was being taken somewhere couldn't try to run. 

“Alright, Zoe.” Briar set the wheelchair to the side and walked up to me. “Let's go for a walk.”

I did my best to stay calm as she picked me up again. She carefully placed a hand under my legs and back and transferred me over to the wheelchair. Despite my inability to run, Briar placed my feet on the foot rests and tightened the straps. She didn’t bother with my hands though, she folded them in my lap instead.

“There, now you’re sitting pretty and your feet won’t bounce off the foot rest if we hit a bump.” She smiled at me before moving behind the wheelchair. “Bridget, wait in that chair.”

“Yes, Miss Briar.” Without hesitation Bridget sat back down in her chair and started to stare off into space.

Briar turned off the lights as she left, leaving Bridget sitting in darkness. It didn’t seem likely that she’d care though.

Briar wheeled me through the house, trying to find the best route to get me to the first floor. Eventually she gave up and carefully brought me and the wheelchair down the stairs step by step. My hands had bounced to the side on the way down the stairs, something Briar unfortunately noticed and quickly put me back to the way I was.

A maid saw us walking towards the garden and quickly went to the door to open it. Briar nodded in acknowledgement to her. It was probably the most acknowledgement a slave got in this house. Being acknowledged meant you were on Rayne and Flora’s radar, something none of them wanted.

As much as I hated Flora, even I couldn’t deny her garden was beautiful. True to her name she had a green thumb and had a strange way of getting plants to grow in the most adverse of conditions. Her special rose “statues” proved that. Men and women strapped in various kinds of bondage with thorny rose vines growing around them. Seeing some of the flower placements could only leave me to assume the true extent of these art pieces. It was a sickening thought.

“Not much for the decor, but the flowers are nice, aren’t they?” Briar said as she aimlessly pushed me along the garden path.

“Yeah, lovely.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I really didn't want to be in any space that Flora designed. “We went outside. Are we done?”

“You rarely take the time to smell the flowers, Zoey.” Briar said as we stopped next to a bench. “I’ve seen you work yourself until you collapsed on many occasions. You aren’t being whipped. You’re not being alone in the dark with your own thoughts.” She walked around to the front of the wheelchair, crossed her arms, and looked down at me. “Why not just enjoy the moment and be thankful I’m not doing anything to you?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I growled, trying my best to look up at her. It wasn’t easy without control of my neck. “I’m here because of you. You’re currently pissing me off. Currently my problems are because of you!”

“I’m sorry, Zoey. You’re adorable, but sometimes I think you really are an idiot.” Briar sighed as she fished something out of her pocket.

“What the fuck does that me-?”

My words were cut off as Briar quickly shot her hand out and pressed her thumb and middle finger to my cheeks. It held my mouth open mid-sentence. I couldn’t even bite down on her fingers, I’d have to bite through my cheek to do so.

“What I’m saying, Zoe.” Briar said as I watched her reach towards my mouth with her other hand. “Is that virtually all your problems are self-inflicted.”

I felt something touch my tongue and she finally let go. I tried to scrape it off, but it was like goo stuck to my tongue.

“You’re surprisingly childish, Zoey. For many reasons really. But the one thing I learned about you when you lived as a breaker at the auction house is that you have a very limited palate when it comes to food.” Briar shrugged as she sat down on the bench in front of me. She showed me the thing she had fished out of her pocket. It looked like one of those tiny boxes you got breath strips in. “You ate a lot of simple things. You always avoided anything spicy.”

Almost on cue I felt my mouth beginning to burn. A tingle at first, but then it continued to get more and more unbearable.

“The hellfire’s kiss was never really the kind of spicy for enjoying though. It’s the kind of spice only meant to hurt.” She shook the tiny red container. “I found someone who had made them into these breath strip things. It’s so much more compact and easy to carry than those spray bottles. I didn’t want to have to use it. I wanted to just go for a nice walk through the garden. But you had to keep doing the same thing you always do and make things difficult.”

I couldn’t stop myself from hyperventilating. I could take the whippings if I had too. Sleep deprivation was nothing I had never inadvertently done to myself. Most things I was sure I could stand. I had no way to brace myself against the burning in my mouth. It kept getting worse. It quickly spread from my tongue, to my entire mouth, to my throat when salvia dripped back down.

“Zoey, sweetie, you’re drooling.” Briar sighed dramatically as she pulled out a napkin and wiped away the spit. “It would be a shame if you ruined your dress.”

“Fuck you!” I finally screamed. I desperately tried to get my limbs to agree with me. To let me move. To do anything to stop it.

“Oh, Zoey.” Briar shook her head. “Screaming and cursing are such childish responses. Even your victims were capable of asking for help. You obviously didn’t give it to them, but they asked.”

I watched as she pulled a tiny spray bottle out of her pocket. She leaned forward, opened my left hand, put the bottle in it and then sat back again. She didn’t look smug. She looked at me the way I imagined a scientist would a mouse when studying its behavior.

“You think you can do everything yourself? That’s some elixir. A few sprays in your mouth will stop that burn pretty quickly. A lot of your victims begged for the same thing. They just wanted that burning to stop. I bet it's still getting worse as we speak. Now you’re experiencing the same thing. The only difference between you and them is that I gave you the bottle.” That neutral look finally turned into a smirk. “So why aren’t you using it?”

She was right, it was getting worse. I could feel it in my lungs. Every breath hurt. The screams always told me how effective the spray was to use on the slaves I was breaking. Their screams undersold how much it truly burned.

“Please.” My throat ached as I said it. My throat felt like a desert. It felt like it was ripping apart as I talked.

“Hm? What was that Zoey?”

“Please!” I was struggling to breathe.

Briar leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of elixir from my hand. “Open your mouth, Zoe.”

The relief was almost instant. It felt like a cool breeze wafting across my tongue. It coated my mouth. I felt it rush into my lungs when I breathed in, quelling their fire.

I had tried so hard since I got here to play the game. I suffered through Flora’s stupid birthday party and everything that brought. I agreed to their damn terms to help me. I ended the career of another stupid breaker. Suffered through a whipping by Rayne.

But this was what finally brought me to tears. That made me beg. A damn breath strip put on my tongue while we sat in the garden.

“Good girl, Zoey.” Briar said, putting the cap back on the elixir bottle. “See how much better life is when you ask me for help instead of thinking you can do things for yourself?”

[duchesschameleon]

now they must learn from one another

shabbat dinner, part 2 read this fic on ao3

It’s a crazy week of debriefs and hospital visits, medical and psych evaluations, paperwork and even more paperwork. But at 6:30pm on Friday, there’s a knock on the door and Tom goes to answer it, shooting Pete and Bradley stern looks to stay seated and relax like the doctor told them to. Hondo nods at Tom, silently promising to make sure they don’t overexert themselves.

Just like the Shabbat they’d hosted before the mission, Callie, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, and Omaha are the first to arrive. Tom ushers them inside, smiling at them and squeezing Callie’s shoulder as she shoots him a grin. She’s carrying something in her hand, Tom notes, excited to see what she’s decided to share with all of them.

He sees the next group arriving and watches them get out of the car and walk to the door. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, and Payback are all walking better than when they’d first disembarked from the carrier, the stiffness and soreness from the mission no longer evident in their steps. Tom nods, welcoming them into the house. 

He can see that they’re tired, but they’re also excited. Probably to see Bradley, as he’d been staying at the house since returning from the carrier out of an abundance of caution. Base housing is too hectic for someone dealing with a concussion, so the house has been a great reprieve as he’s recovered.  

Even if it is a little stilted and awkward, the three of them living under the same roof for the first time in years. With all the work they’d had to do this week, there hasn’t been time to talk about the past, about the years that separated them. 

But, they’ve waited this long to talk, they’ll wait a little longer as everyone once again joins them for Shabbat. 

Phoenix looks at Tom questioningly as she passes through the doorway and Tom tells her, “Bradley and Pete are in the living room, just go straight through and don’t let them stand up or do too much.” As he sees Jake and Coyote approaching the house, he steps back outside to welcome them. 

“Hey, Ice,” Coyote says, nodding as he enters the house. Tom nods back and turns to Jake, who’s standing on the porch, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“How - how is he?” 

“Which one?” 

“Rooster.” 

Tom nods and puts a hand on Jake’s shoulder, leading him into the house. “You should ask him yourself. I think it’s your turn to listen to him complain about how the doctors are being way too cautious. He insists his head is fine, that he barely feels like he ejected low and crash landed on the carrier deck.” 

Jake looks at him, shocked, “But isn’t he on, like, pain pills?” 

Tom nods. “Exactly. I’m tagging you in. I’ve been dealing with Bradley insisting he’s good enough for base housing and the barracks this past week.” 

Jake blanches as Tom closes the door behind them. There’s noise and conversation flowing from the living room, a huge difference from the first Shabbat they’d hosted for this group. Everyone’s more relaxed, more familiar with one another — Tom notes it as he sees Callie and Bob talking, looking at what appears to be her talis bag together, while Omaha and Fritz looking at something on Payback’s phone. 

“Last to the party like always, huh, Hangman?” Bradley calls out, Phoenix laughing from her spot on the arm of the couch where she’s carefully leaning on Bradley. 

“Well, you know I gotta make an entrance, Rooster.” Jake winks as he saunters over, sitting gently beside Bradley. 

“Your ego isn’t big enough to announce your presence?” 

Jake flashes a smile at Bradley. “Ego’s not the only big thing about me,” he says with another wink.

Tom shakes his head at them, walking towards Pete on the loveseat. “You have an audience, boys, and they won’t hesitate to butt into the conversation and make you regret it.” 

Pete snorts beside him. “Speak for yourself, I’m trying to block this one out.” 

“I never said I was talking about us,” Tom retorts, gesturing to the other pilots all looking like cats that caught the canary.

Pete chuckles under his breath and leans against Tom. 

They let the younger pilots talk and catch up, everyone gathering around the couch where Bradley sits. Tom puts his arm around Pete, takes his weight and relishes in it. Relishes in the fact that Pete is here and alive. 

“You good?” Pete asks Tom, turning to look at him. 

“I’m good, just enjoying a full house.” Pete nods and rests his head back on Tom’s shoulder. 

They sit like that for another few minutes, soaking in the warmth of a full house and the noise it brings. It’s not often they get to sit like this, to slow down and just be together with friends and family. Tom reminisces to Friday nights of years long past, times when Carole and Bradley were fixtures at Shabbat and whoever else was in town - Slider, Hollywood, Wolfman, Merlin, Warlock - anyone that they considered friends had an open invite to Friday Night Shabbat. After Carole passed and their usual group got spread across the globe on different assignments or retired, it became just Tom, Pete, and Bradley for Friday night dinner. And when Bradley left and refused to come back after he found out about his academy papers, it was just Pete and Tom for the longest time. 

Or just Tom when Pete got himself shipped off to some corner of the world for pissing off another admiral.

“Where’d you go there?” Pete asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Just thinking how we haven’t had a Friday night like this in a while. Might be nice to have this more often.” 

“Might be nice,” Pete echoes. “We need to talk to-” 

“Hey, Mav, where’s the candles? We gotta light ‘em in a minute,” Jake interrupts, looking at his watch.

“Oh I’ll-”

“They’re in the cupboard on the right side of the sideboard,” Tom answers, shooting Pete a look. “The challah’s on the kitchen island, already on a cutting board with a knife if someone wants to bring that to the sideboard. And the wine’s there, too.” The younger aviators jump up and start grabbing everything. Tom catches Phoenix shoot Bradley a look that has him sinking back into the cushions. 

“Wait for Hangman or someone to help you out,” she instructs, holding his gaze. Bradley nods and puts his hands up, surrendering. 

Tom smiles and turns to Pete. “C’mon, let’s get you up.” Pete sighs but allows Tom to support and help him into a standing position. He’s still for a second, taking a breath and making sure he has his balance. Tom stands with him, Hondo hovering nearby. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Pete says and Tom keeps his arm wrapped around Pete’s waist as they walk over to the sideboard, Hondo settling in amongst the pilots. “You got the kippahs?” 

“Already on the sideboard. This isn’t my first time hosting a large group you know?” 

Pete huffs out a laugh and then focuses on making sure his steps are steady and sure. It takes them a little longer than usual to cross the room, but everyone’s patient, giving them space.  

Jake circles back to the living room area for Bradley, helping him off the couch and hovering as they cross the room. Bradley’s doing better, but still stiff and Jake’s got his arms out just in case Bradley wobbles. 

Tom walks them right to the front of the group, in front of the sideboard, and just like last time, Callie and Bob are near the front, too. They’ve already handed out the kippahs and Callie has her own delicate, hand crocheted one on her head. They’ve left the two that Tom and Pete always wear on the sideboard, waiting for them to start. Jake and Bradley settle in next to them and smile at Tom as they pull out their own kippahs. 

Tom turns to the group, “Everyone ready? Need me to explain anything again?” 

They all shake their heads. 

“We’re good, Uncle Tom,” Bradley says, leaning in closer to Jake. 

“You wanna help me light, then? I’m sure you still remember.” 

Bradley smiles and shuffles forward, standing next to Tom and leaning on him as they light the lights together and recite the prayers, as they used to do. Pete watches on, arm around Tom’s waist. His family, together again. It’s a small step, but a pretty important one to Tom, Pete knows. Sharing in his family’s traditions with Bradley and the other kids, marking them as part of their hodge-podge family.

“Jake, Bob, Callie, want to help with the blessings over the challah and wine?” Tom asks, turning towards them. It’s another sign of honor, of being welcomed into the family and the three pause for a second in shock before nodding and stepping forward. 

Jake pours the wine into the waiting glasses with help from Callie as Bob picks up the knife to cut the challah. Once the wine glasses have been passed to everyone who is currently cleared to drink, Bob and Tom lead the blessing of the bread and let Callie and Jake bless the wine. 

Everyone has a little bite of challah and a sip of wine, saying “Good Shabbos” as they give each other a hug or handshake. When Tom settles back at Pete’s side, he pouts, looking at the wine glass. 

“One sip, Pete, that’s it. I’m not risking anything with all the meds you're on.” Pete rolls his eyes but only takes a sip before giving Tom back the glass. Bradley watches the whole exchange, something tugging in his chest for how familiar the scene still is to him after so many years away from home. 

It also reminds him that he didn’t get any wine and he turns to Jake, who’s been collecting the kippahs to put back on the side table now that the prayers are done. “What about me? Can’t I have a sip of wine?” 

Jake raises an eyebrow at him. “With your head injury and list of pain meds? No.”

“One sip won’t hurt me, c’mon, it’s Shabbat.” 

Jake narrows his eyes at Bradley, looks over his shoulder to Tom and Pete who shrug, Pete’s hand still on Tom’s glass. 

“One sip, Bradshaw, I’m not going to be responsible for you fucking up your recovery because it’s Shabbat.” 

Bradley smiles as he grabs the offered wine glass and takes a healthy sip. “One sip, right?” Jake scowls at him and takes back the wine, muttering under his breath as he takes a sip himself. 

“How did you two put up with him growing up?” Jake asks Tom and Pete. “How have you put up with him this week?” 

Pete and Tom just look at each other and shrug. “Practice,” they say in unison. 

Bradley’s lip quirks up in a smile as he looks at the two of them, remembers all the practice they had with his attitude and arguing growing up. 

“Hey, Ice? Mav? We gonna eat soon?” Fritz calls from the kitchen. “This all looks really, really good but Halo’s making me be respectful and not just dig in before you guys even make it to the kitchen.” 

“We’re coming, Fritz,” Pete responds, tugging on Tom as he starts making his way to the kitchen. 

They’ve got the buffet set up again, everyone piling their plates with food and sitting at the table. The seats are shuffled from last time — Bradley sits next to Tom, across from Pete, his old spot at the table, and Jake takes the seat next to him while Phoenix settles in next to Pete. The others are mixed around, more of a cohesive unit and team rather than the splintered friend groups they’d been at the last dinner. 

The conversation flows more easily, and louder, as everyone talks over each other. Fritz and Omaha hold a conversation over the heads of Harvard and Yale, to the point where they ask if Omaha wants to switch places with Harvard. 

It’s chaotic, it’s loud, it’s familiar. Tom settles into his food, watches both Bradley and Pete to make sure they eat. Though Jake’s glances over to Bradley’s plate and the way he nudges Bradley’s elbows tells Tom he can focus more on his partner. 

Like Bradley, Pete is eating, just slower than usual. And occasionally he’ll just push the food around his plate, keep his hand and fork busy as he talks to Phoenix and Callie next to her about something or other. Bradley’s less talkative, only butting in to poke fun at someone. His gaze keeps flicking across the table at Pete, at where Tom’s hand rests on the table near Pete’s.

Tom lets out a sigh at the tension that’s still lingering, even after everything they’ve been through. It’s a stark reminder that they may have made it home alive, but that didn’t solve everything. 

But that’s something for after dinner. Not while the whole team is loudly discussing some video game across the table. 

The noise is welcome, another reminder of the past and hopefully a sign that Shabbat dinners will be a full house affair again when deployments and assignments permit. The attendees may look different, but the warmth of a full house remains the same.

The team lingers after dinner this time, relaxing in the living room again and congregating around Bradley’s spot on the couch. Little by little, they leave, noticing Pete’s flagging energy or following Hondo’s lead of getting rest with the promise of no paperwork or debriefings the next morning. 

Jake’s the last to leave, following Coyote at his insistence of “wanting to get some decent sleep for once.” 

“He’ll, he’ll be alright here? If you need help, or just want him off your hands we’d be-” 

“Jake, he’s good here. It’s calmer here than on base,” Tom explains. “But you can come visit, check up on him. Keep him company. I’m sure Bradley’ll appreciate that.” 

Jake nods, opens his mouth like he wants to say something else but closes it before anything comes out. He nods again and follows Coyote to his truck, shoulders tight around his ears. Tom notes it, makes a silent promise to the younger man to talk about it the next time he’s over, to ensure that whatever Jake’s worrying about is nothing and that he knows he doesn’t have to handle it alone. 

But that’s for another day, Tom thinks as he closes the door and locks it. He walks back to the living room, the house much quieter now as the candles burn low this late in the evening. Pete and Bradley are quiet as they sit on their respective couches, the silence an awkward one and much different from their comfortable silences of the past. 

Tom sits next to Pete, looks between the two men he calls family, and sighs. Pete just looks over at him with a quirk of his eyebrow and Tom shakes his head subtly. 

“The team’s gone, dinner’s over, the mission’s over. You both came back alive - despite your best efforts - so now you have to talk.” Tom pauses, waits to see if one of them will step up. “Like you promised.” He looks over at Pete. 

Pete looks back at Tom, confusion in his eyes. Tom holds his gaze, holds Pete to the promise he knows from the reports and from Bradley himself he’d made on the carrier deck before taking off. 

But it’s Bradley who speaks first. 

“I, I don’t know how to say I’m sorry for being angry,” he whispers, looking down at his hands. They’re fidgeting in his lap, unable to stay still. “I was angry, I didn’t understand why you’d done it, why you pulled my papers. Even the answer you gave me in the ready room, it’s not, it doesn’t feel right.” He takes a breath, looks at them, fear and nerves etched in every feature of his face. “Why did you pull my papers after a lifetime of supporting my dream to fly? You can tell me the truth. Don’t be scared that you’re gonna piss me off, I’m not going to leave again. Nearly got myself killed making sure you were okay, I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Tom and Pete look at each other. This has been their longest argument, Pete firmly believing that Bradley shouldn’t know about Carole’s request, shouldn’t have a reason to resent his mother, while Tom thinks Bradley is more understanding than that. They’ve hashed it out numerous times over the years, anytime Bradley came up in conversation. And neither had given up any ground, standing strong in their convictions. 

“I want you back in my life. I know I held on to the anger for too long, but I have to know why you did it,” Bradley says with a shrug. “I just need to know.”

Pete’s still for a moment. Tom knows he’s weighing the options, the risks of telling Bradley the truth so soon after getting him back. And then he stands slowly, with a groan, and goes to sit next to Bradley, puts a hand on Bradley’s, stilling them and prompting the other man to look at him. 

“Bradley, I pulled your papers as a favor to your mom.” Bradley’s brow furrows in confusion, looking to Tom to confirm Pete’s words. Tom nods slowly, watches Bradley’s eyes widen as he looks back at Pete. “The last thing Carole wanted was for you to die like your dad did. She wanted your feet on the ground, to keep you safe.” Pete swallows around a lump in his throat, pushes on. “But, I was nervous, too. I didn’t want you to suffer the same fate as Goose, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you either. I thought I was keeping you safe, thought you weren’t ready, and I wasn’t ready to test that. So I pulled your papers. For your mom, for me, to try and keep you safe. To protect you.” 

The three of them sit in a stunned silence. Tom knows he needs to let Bradley and Pete work this out — the decision and action was ultimately Pete’s and Bradley held the most anger towards him — but he wants nothing more than to join them on the couch, to wrap them both up in his arms and promise them they’ll get through this and it will be okay. 

“Mom wanted you to pull my papers?” 

“Yeah, she asked me to keep you from flying, from becoming an aviator, in those last days at the hospital. Made me promise her.” 

Bradley sinks back into the couch, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he accidentally tugs on his scalp. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?” he asks.

“I knew I could handle you hating me, I could take that. But I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating your mom, of you resenting her. I couldn’t risk that. So I let you believe it was just me.” 

“But I could never hate Mom! If that’s why she wanted my papers pulled, I get it. I don’t think it’s fair, but I get it. Dad’s death… it was hard on all of us, but especially her.” Bradley shrugs. “I don’t love that she made you do it and never talked to me about it, especially after years of us going up in the air together, but I get it.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck, though. Feeling like my world was flipped on its head.” 

Pete hangs his head, shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Bradley,” he says, voice thick with tears. “I never wanted you to feel alone, to be alone. I’m sorry I acted out of fear instead of trusting you.” 

Tom can’t take it anymore, can’t watch while his family tears themselves apart over things that happened years ago. He stands and plants himself in front of Pete and Bradley, a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“Look at me.” They both lift their heads, meet his eyes. “We all messed up with this one and we’re all carrying some of the blame. But we’re still a family.” 

Bradley nods, Pete blinks back tears. 

“You mean that? We’re still, still family?” Bradley asks, voice small. 

Pete sits up and immediately has a hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Always. Bradley, you have always been part of this family. Nothing will change that.” 

Bradley wraps an arm around Pete and tugs Tom down to their level in order to wrap them both in a hug. It’s an awkward position for him, but Tom leans into it, squeezing the man he calls son as he feels his tears soaking into his shirt. He rubs Bradley’s back, the same way he did when the man was much younger, just a boy with nightmares too real for his age, and holds the two people he loves most close. 

“Nothing will change that, Bradley. You’re family, you’re our son. But, I think right now we all need some rest,” Tom says, leaning back to look at the two of them. “You two especially, c’mon, time to go upstairs.” 

Pete and Bradley look at each other and smile. Bradley quirks his head and then they both nod. Tom’s transported back 18 years, seeing a much younger Bradley and Pete communicating in their own language, their own way, as he struggled to keep up and was ultimately following their lead. But it’s not 18 years ago anymore, it’s the present and Bradley and Pete are both here in the house they’d moved into as a family. Together again.

#my writing #fic stuff #tg fic #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #maverick #pete mitchell #bradley bradshaw #rooster #tom kazansky #iceman

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

Don't Leave Me | Ken Murase | Chapter 4 | Event React

All Murase ever wanted since befriending Doctor Ikko Denda was to be by her side and help her with anything, no matter how big or small. She is…was a powerful woman of intelligence, skill, and strength. She deserved nothing but respect and admiration from anyone lucky enough to be in the same room as her. The moment they met in their room he knew she was the one to bet on, with Ikko around, no matter how bad things got, it’ll all be okay to him because she’s here to take the wheel. When she fainted after Hayato got attacked, he sat beside her and tried to keep her as safe as an idiot like him could, all he ever wanted was to do as good by her as she’s done for him countless time since this fucking murder game started. Through texts and in-depth conversations, Ikko Denda has done so much him, maybe even a little more than Sayuri, his love, has. For without Ikko, would he even have Sayuri with him at all? He feels like he owes how he feels, this person he is trying to become, to her. But when the bullets rang out as they entered the library, as he moved to cover Mio, who was closest to him, to make sure it was safe. When he looked over and saw Ikko, his best friend, his everything, riddled with holes and falling to the ground, every part of his being broke, he hasn’t felt this since he hurt his mother the day he ran away from home.

When her body hit the floor, he jolted over to her as quickly as he could, falling to his knees and pulling her to his chest, her blood staining his white shirt as he tried to check if maybe, just maybe, something was still beating, there was some kind of flicker of life! But…there wasn’t. (♫♫♫♫) As the realization hit him like a freight train, he would gently set her back down and stare at his dear, dear, friend’s face as he felt so much hurt. God, it all hurt so badly. He tried to maintain his breathing as he felt this rush of pain, his hands balled into fists wishing he could strike the ground and somehow bring her spirit back to her body. He’s trying so hard to keep it together for Ikko, but the cracks are appearing. The others begin to come into view, some were moving to check whatever the hell was in that file cabinet, Sayuri rushed over and was holding Ikko now, and he could hear Jinpachi's cries close by as well. Of course, everyone rightfully adored her. She was the best of them. They’ll all be hurting from this, he had enough sense to know that, but deep within he knew he had to be hurting more. He loved Ikko like he loved his dear aniki. He has lost another mentor he did not deserve. While Sayuri held her, Ken’s eyes stayed fixated on the puddle of blood, tears now pouring from his eyes.  All Murase ever wanted was to be by her side, to fight with her, even die for her if it meant she could end this game. She never judged or scorned him, she only wanted him to succeed, she believed in the potential deep within him that he himself never recognized. All he wanted to do was to repay all that faith with loyalty, he should’ve been here with her when she investigated the library. Why didn’t she tell him to help her? Why did she go with only Yvette? He could’ve taken every single bullet meant for her in an instant and died with a smile on his face. 

“Why would I ever hate you for that, Murase?” (…) “How could I ever hate you at all?”

A part of himself he has tried to move on from tells him that it makes sense she didn’t bring him along, he’d just get in the way for her, probably cause more trouble than needed at the time. His own aniki often felt that way back then. He tried hard to remember all the good things Ikko has said to him, good things she had said even a couple days ago, but these negative thoughts were just mixing in with all the pain he felt as he was hit even harder by the realization that he has no idea how he’ll be able to stay on his path of improvement without Ikko around. Maybe this was all just punishment from destiny itself for trying to change, for trying to be more than a scummy homeless ex-yakuza. He was beginning to fall apart and he just wished he could die right now next to her. Instead, Murase just buries his face in his hands and sobs for his best friend, Ikko Denda, and he will stay right here beside her until the rabbits take her, he promises himself that much. And as the thought of who Ikko died for crosses his mind for the briefest of moments, he wishes Yvette had just died instead.

#ch4 #ken #submission

[angst-king]

Sharpie tattoos

(mention of physical abuse, suicidal idology) What was I thinking? Was this really necessary? Did I make the right decision? The thoughts are racing through my mind as the ambulance gets closer to the destination. Why am I in an ambulance, well my father had gotten caught. He got mad over an assignment I didn’t get the best grade on and I wasn’t doing as well during his training sessions as he would’ve liked me too. So he beat me bad enough for my sister to sneak me out of the house and take me to a hospital where i told them everything. 

They gave me a mental evaluation and said that it would be too dangerous for me to go home. Not only would Endeavor possibly want to hurt me more for seeking help but, my mental state is apparently bad. I didn’t think of killing myself too often, sure the thoughts slipped into my mind every so often but, I never commit to it or thought to do anything.

The only reason I agreed to go was that I wanted away from my father. The only thing is, it's a long-term facility, not a short-term one. They want to give my siblings a chance to get out of my father’s house and be stable enough to support me so I can get further help.

I just wanted to stay away from my father.

When I arrive they wheel me inside the place and immediately I’m a little surprised at how well kept this place was. There were only a few scribbles of crayon on the walls, but the floors were shiny the room didn’t smell of cleaning solution, nor was the air stale. The chairs were all lined up in two rows, one against two walls.

I’m being wheeled up the the in-take desk where the paramedic hands them the paper work, my bag, and helps me out of the transport chair. There are three ladies, one takes my bag while the other two have me follow them after a short introduction.

“Hello Todoroki, my name is nurse Yugi, and this nurse Oikawa, please follow us into the exam room.” I nodded quietly and followed the two ladies down the hall wondering what the other nurse would do with my bag. 

We go down the hall and to the left before we’re in a doctor’s exam room. Nurse Yugi helps me onto the exam bed and tells me they’ll be checking my vitals and body condition. I nod and both women start the exam, Ms Yugi being the main one preforming it while nurse OIkawa was assisting. 

They do everything of a normal doctor’s exam would though when nurse Yugi put the stethoscope on my ribs to hear me breath I winced. My ribs are still painful from Endeavor’s beating. She apologizes and asks if it hurt. 

“Y-yeah, i’m pretty sure they’re still healing.” I informed her, though she looked confused but Ms Oikawa seemed to have gotten it after looking at the paper again. She eyes me from behind the paper for a second, its not a judgmental eye, more so concerned.

“He broke your ribs in two places each side, so his oxygen saturation and breathing will be different.” She states in a matter of fact way. Yugi sighs and then asks me.

“Do you have any other injuries, hun?” “y-yeah” I push my hair and show her the stitching on left side of my head, left ankle, left collar bone and bruises on my thighs. It was a lot worse when i was admitted to the normal hospital but they got somethings fixed up more quickly than others. 

I was only in a gown so that made it easy to show the ladies without having to strip my clothes off. Both of them didn’t seem to appalled but i could feel their worry. 

“Okay we’ll inform the doctor and he will either see you tonight or tomorrow morning.” Then nurse Yugi asks Oikawa to get me some clothes. Oikawa leaves the room but doesn’t take long to come back. They tell me that they can’t leave me to change due to it being a safety risk but they do have a curtain in the room. So they pull the curtain to separate us and give me privacy for me to change into the clothes provided for me.

They gave me a set of grey scrubs to wear. I take off my gown leaving me only in my boxers and bandages. Exposing my bareskin to the chilled air of the exam room. I shudder harshly before quickly putting on the the uniform. Once i was dressed, I come out from behind the curtain and nurses tell me its time to take me to my room.

“Alright Todoroki, lets get you to your room”  I adjusted the shirt and follows the women out of the exam room. My bare feet padded down the hallways to an elevator. Most of the main floor was just exam rooms and a cafeteria and a lounge area. I don’t know what floor i’m on so i’m following them blindly. 

We go down an hallway with orange walls with white pokadots I don’t even bother looking at the room numbers until we get to my room, 309. The Yugi nocks on the door first and pokes her head in. I hear her say. 

“You have a roommate” Then I’m let into the room, its pretty nice actually. It kinda looks like a college dorm but no bunk bed and suicide proof. There are even large cubbies to place clothes, the door to the bathroom hae a slanted gap at the top. The window have blinds with a stick no curtain, the beds didn’t have a head board, but they had a night stand between the beds that had phone chargers. 

“When your bags are given back to you, you can place your clothes in the cubbies and get set up before dinner.” Nurse OIkawa informs me, I nodded and then noticed a blond boy sitting on the bed. His hair was a dirty mess with sharp tangles and his eyes darted towards me. He gave me a large toothy smile while i gave him a small wave. 

“Todoroki Shouto this is Kaminari Denki”

#todokami #my psych academia

[extremelyblackandwhite]

Now let’s talk about the birth…..

pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader

warnings: 18+ topics (under 18 year olds do NOT interact/reader), complications with childbirth

part of toxic

It was quiet, a very quiet evening considering they had a two toddlers and she was heavily pregnant with triples; but it was quiet. She was softly sleeping next to her husband, her hand in his as the night progressed. However, just as thing were soft and quiet and everything was right, she woke up with a sharp pain in her stomach. Enough of a sharp pain to make her cry. Despite being heavily and close to the end of her pregnancy, the pain and anxiety was so large she was able to sit up straight. Her hand rested on top of her tummy as tears started to stream down her face. 

      - My love? - Steve stirred awake from his slumber. The confusion from being awaken was replaced with worry as he saw her cry. - My love, what’s wrong?

      - It hurts, Steve. - she cried out further.

      - Are you in labour?

      - I don’t know. - she continued to cry as the pain continued. - It hurts, Steve. It’s not like with Daisy or Rose. 

He was in high alert, not caring if she was pregnant with triplets and thus significantly heavier, he carried her down stairs into the car, yelling out at Andy’s door for him to watch over the girls before entering the car to drive them to the hospital. She was still in her pyjamas and so was he, but he didn’t care. She had given birth to two babies already, so he trusted her and worried when she said she was in pain. Once at the hospital, she was met by two nurses who rushed her to an emergency OBGYN appointment. Her grip bruised his hand as she attempted to understand anything in the scan, any small thing. 

     - We’re gonna have to go into an urgency C-section, Dr. Kemp.

     - Why? - she looked to the doctor and then to Steve. - Are the babies okay?

     - We think one of them is in distress which is why you’re in pain, Dr. 

     - I don’t wanna have a C-section. - she told the doctor as if she had a choice before turning to Steve. - Steve, please. 

     - C-sections are plenty safe nowadays. You will be in safe hands. 

     - My love, please. - Steve kissed her forehead. - I’m gonna be with you. We’re getting our girls sooner, we need to ensure they’ll be safe.

There wasn’t much of a choice, she was in pain and one of her girls was in distress. Then everything was much quicker, she was rushed into an emergency C section, Steve always by her side as she was administered anesthesias. She couldn’t remain awake, merely falling asleep yet even that sleep was anxious filled and once she woke up, she was almost blinded by yellow lights. Her hands went over to her stomach, to find it significantly flatter. She looked around to see Steve who got up from the couch to meet her. 

     - Where are the babies? 

     - They’re in the NICU for observation. - he caressed her cheek. - They’re half a month premature but they should be okay, the doctor thinks. 

     - What about our girls? Where is Rose and Daisy? They must be so frightened. 

     - Andy was with them for the night and I have called your brother who is on his way to watch over them as you recover. 

     - Can I see them?

Steve nodded, moving over the wheelchair and helping her in before wheeling her towards the NICU. She held his hand to remain upright as she immediately saw the three cribs with their surname. She bite the inside of her lip, attempting not to cry as she starred at her three little girls, peacefully sleeping in their respective cribs. Her hand touched the glass, an action which was seen by one of the baby nurses, who walked out of the NICU to meet the new parents. 

    - You did very well. - she said. - Your girls are lovely. They should only stay in observation for a day before you can take them home. 

    - Can I hold them?

    - Sure. 

Steve helped her inside the NICU, his eyes too glued on his three daughters but his heart much calmer now that they’re here, safe. The nurse gave two of the girls to Steve and the third one. He wished to almost bottle this moment, her look as she looked down on her new daughter. 

    - Do they have a name?

    - Ivy, Cornelia and Lily. - Steve said. - We still ought to decide who is who.

    - You’re Lily. - Y/N spoke to the baby on her arms. - We’ll let daddy decide your sisters. 

    - You’re giving me choice in the matter? - he smirked. - Dr. Kemp, motherhood truly has softened you. 

    - Don’t get cocky, Steve.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp/reader #steve kemp x you #steve kemp/you #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp/y/n #steve kemp imagine

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Hospital- Yelena Belova

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

Characters: Yelena Belova

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- I have been sick with COVID 😟. But reading your stories has helped. Wondering if you could write a story about yelenax reader (romantic or platonic) where Yelena is worried as the reader is in the hospital sick. Thanks! 

Word Count: 444

Author: Charlotte

“You can see her for a second, but she does need to rest.”

The nurse tried to speak calmly to Yelena, but she didn’t listen. All that Yelena cared about was getting into the room to see you, having already threatened to end the life of several medical professionals when they refused to let her see you earlier. She barged into the room rushing over to your hospital bed, not caring for anything that got into her way. 

She leant down towards you, clasping one of your hands in hers making sure to miss the cannula that was taped down to the reverse of that hand. 

“Are you okay?” Yelena asked. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Have you been causing trouble?” You said with a pained smile causing yourself to cough, sending pain through your body. 

You peered over to the nurse, whose face provided you more than enough information on how your girlfriend had reacted in you time since you’d been admitted to the hospital. 

“They claim I am not family, but they are able to be persuaded,” she frowned. “I wasn’t going to leave you in this place on your own, especially not without knowing what was going on.”

You mustered up as much energy as you could to squeeze Yelena’s hand to try and reassure her. 

“There’s not much to tell yet. They think that it’s to do with my lungs but until I can get in for a scan in the morning, they won’t know. They’ve started running tests so who knows what they’ll find.”

It was annoying to not know what was going on but you already had tubes and wires coming out of everywhere, so you had to trust your doctors and nurses in doing the best for you. 

“You were unconscious,” she huffed. “I thought you died.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you-“

“I wasn’t scared.”

Yelena cut you off to correct you, still not capable of accepting any form of weakness about her. 

“Sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I don’t know what happened but thank you for getting me to the hospital so quickly.”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on the floor.

You attempted to shoot Yelena an unimpressed look but the nasal cannula limited your ability to move your nose. 

“Well depending on what it is, I could have died, so I appreciate you saving me and also staying by my side.”

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what those people say.”

The nurse in the doorway let out a sign, knowing that even if you were an easy patient, Yelena would make things difficult. 

#Hospital #Anon #Request #Yelena Belova #Yelena Belova Imagine #Yelena Belova One Shot #Black Widow One Shot #Black Widow Imagine #Black Widow #Avengers Imagine #Avengers #Avengers One Shot #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel One Shot #Charlotte

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - The Sequel

Synopsis: Zemo was always getting on your nerves. Yes, he was hot and god you were attracted to him but he was also your enemy. After what happened last night you were trying your best to pretend it never happened however Zemo isn’t willing to let you do that.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Tags: FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE, Smut, Oral sex, Fingering, Slight fluff, mentions of guns

Author's note: You guys really liked ‘the Freudian Slip’ and I’ve had a few requests to write a sequel, so here I am. This is my first time attempting to write smut for all y'all who are horny for Zemo so um hopefully it’s good. IF YOU KNOW ME NO YOU DON’T

My Master list

“Madripoor knows how to give New York a run for its money,” Sam says as they walk past all these containers.

“They know how to party,” Zemo replies, walking up beside you. His arm grazes against yours, making you tense. Picking up your pace, you reach Bucky and leaving Zemo behind.

Last night you might have made the worst mistake of your life. You had made out with Zemo.

Zemo!

The man that was a terrorist. The man who had caused the Avengers to split up. You hated him! You had to hate him. Right?

Yet when you glance over to him, you can’t help feel warm inside. Goosebumps crawl up your skin as you hear him speak. That accent of his drove you wild. You want to kiss that smirk off his face when he looks at you. His brown eyes bearing into yours. He made you feel alive. He made you feel all hot and bothered. He made you feel confused.

Earlier at Sharon’s party, you were watching him. Usually, you like a party, but this time you held back. Zemo looked around for you, but he eventually gave up and danced on his own. You smiled as you watched him have fun. For those moments he seemed so innocent. You wanted to join him dancing, but Sam and Bucky were already suspicious of you and Zemo. Why it had taken you two so long to reach them after you split up. You had to distance yourself from him. No matter how hard you found it.

You swallow, pushing away the thoughts of you and him as you tried to focus back on the mission at hand.

You arrived at the crater, and Sharon handed you all earpieces to wear. Placing it in your ear and head into the crater. It was pitch black in there, making you stop to try to see anything.

Zemo was following up behind you, and as you stopped walking, he walked into you. You stiffened, feeling his body press up against yours. His arm reaches around, squeezing yours as he moves beside you. Though you couldn’t see him, you just knew he was smirking at you.

Zemo pulled out a flashlight. He shone it in your eyes to annoy you before shining it forward to see the end of the crater. He walked forward, touching the wall, then pushed it. The wall moved, revealing it as a door as music flooded the room. He glances back at you, Sam and Bucky as you all pull out your guns. Sam and Bucky head in and you follow them as Zemo keeps the door open for you. His hand rested on the dip of your back as you walked past, but you shook it off. He turned to stare at you, but you continued to walk ahead, not giving him a second glance.

The song ‘Comin home baby’ plays out of a record as you enter. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you glance around where you were. Rounding the corner, you finally see the man you had been looking for. He was quietly singing along, unaware of the people approaching him from behind. Sam and Bucky questioned him while you and Zemo held back.

You were just there for backup you didn’t want to get involved. Your eyes sneak back to admiring Zemo though, and you wonder just how involved you were. Zemo’s eyes snap to yours as he notices you staring, and he tilts his head at you, his thin lips sneaking up in a curl.

You look away, staring ahead, willing your cheeks to stop blushing.

As Sam and Bucky continued to interrogate the doctor, Zemo walked around the area. You kept trying to see what he was doing while at the same trying to make sure Zemo didn’t notice you.

Sharon runs into the room at that moment, “Guys, we’ve got to go”

Zemo quickly raises his hand, showing a gun he had found, and shoots the doctor dead.

“NO!” both you and Sam shouted, looking at Zemo in shock. Sam crashes into Zemo, holding him against the wall to stop him from shooting anyone else. You rush over and prize the gun out of Zemo’s hand, chucking it to the floor.

Before you got another moment to think, the whole crater exploded. You were flung back down, hitting your head against the floor. Searing pain crossed the back of your head and you let out a yelp of pain.

Groaning, you raised your hand to your head. Pulling it back, you see your hand covered in blood.

“Shit” you mutter trying to wipe your hand on your clothes.

You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you off the floor. You blink, trying to get the dust out of your eyes as the arms guide you out of the rubble. Finally, in the sunlight, you realize Zemo has his hands on your side pulling you along. Just as you two left the remains of the building, it explodes behind you.

“Are you okay?” Zemo questions as he turns you around to look at him. His eyes glanced up and down you in worry as he takes in the extent of your injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Zemo, were they still in there!?” you ask anxiously as you look back to the burning building.

“They’ll be fine, come we need to go,” Zemo insisted, grabbing a hold of your hand again pulling you along. Your head still seized with pain making you trip slightly, but you kept it together.

“Where the hell are we going?” you ask but Zemo doesn’t answer he just keeps running and pulls you up onto a crater.

“Zemo!” you exclaim in annoyance, then your eyes widen as he pulls something out of his pocket.

“What the fuck is that”

“My mask, ”

“Your what now? Since when have you had a mask!” you question, looking at him confused.

“I’ve always had one. Now you need to duck” he ordered, looking over the edge of the crater.

“Why should I do that”

He rolls his eyes and wrenches you down, “Can’t you listen to me for once y/n'' he exclaims. He then grabs your gun and heads to the front of the crate wearing his mask. He shoots a pipe, and it explodes, sending a shock wave through you. You collapse to the ground feeling faint from the blood loss and Zemo rushes back to you.

He puts his hand on the back of your head to help you up, and his eyes widen when he pulls his hand away to see blood covering it.

“Why didn’t you say something” he angrily muttered.

“I’m fine” you groaned, but the black spots you could see in your vision said otherwise.

Zemo wrapped one arm under your legs and the other under your back and picked you up. He held you close to his chest as he ran forward holding you in his arms,

After a few minutes, he helps you stand up, letting you lean on him. You hated how dependent you were on Zemo at this moment, but a darker side of you enjoyed being this close to him. Leaning against a crate, you watch as Zemo finally pulls off his mask and opens one crate. Your eyes widen in shock as you watch him ride out in a car.

He gets out and opens the passenger seat door for you. Putting one arm around your waist and making you wrap your arm around his shoulder. He guides you to the car and helps you in. Both of you don’t speak. He knew you were too embarrassed to, and at this moment he didn’t want to push you.

Driving along you two picked up Sam and Bucky, who were thankful for seeing you alive. The car drive lasted a few hours, but eventually, you arrived at a new city where Zemo had a place you could stay.

Zemo got out of the car to help you out, but by this time you're determined to not rely on him. You pushed the door open, swung your legs out, tried to stand up, and almost fell over, but Bucky grabbed you.

“She needs medical help,” Zemo demanded as he opens the door to the house to let you in. Bucky excuses himself for a walk as Sam and Zemo help walk you into the building. They guide you to the sofa and lay you down. Sam finds some bandages to apply to your head while Zemo pours out some whiskey for you.

“To get rid of the pain,” he says, handing it to you. He sits beside you, gently putting his hand over the bandage on your head.

“Watch it” Sam growls glaring at him,

“My apologies,” Zemo quipped, removing his hand and your heart sinks a bit as he moves away.

With the pain easing, you eventually drift off into a light sleep. You don’t know how long you slept for, but when you woke up and looked around the room, you were in was empty. Feeling stronger, you stand up and start looking around the room. You notice a door off to the side where you could hear running water. Heading towards it, you gently knock on the door.

The water stops, and the door opens slightly to reveal Zemo on the other side. As he sees you, he opens the door and pulls you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“I-I didn’t mean to come in here, I just wanted to see who was around” you mutter as your eyes flicker up and down Zemo. He was currently dressed in a bathrobe, and from the way it looks, not much else. Your eyes focused on the necklace that hung around his neck. How low the bathrobe dipped, exposing a part of his chest. You felt your core warming up and your mind filled with thoughts.

Zemo chuckles as he watches your eyes run up and down him, “Liking what you see?”

You freeze, bringing you back to reality. “N-no” you say, turning around trying to open the door but Zemo wraps his arms around you pulling you to him. He leans his face into your neck kissing it making your eyes flutter shut and let out a slight moan.

“How's your head?” Zemo asks, pulling back from you and raising his hand to touch the bandage.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him annoyed. Hopping from trying to seduce you to a casual conversation as nothing happened.

“I’m fine”

“Well, forgive me darling for not believing you but last time you said that you weren’t”

“I feel better...thank you for helping me”

“Anytime darling” he whispers in your ear. As his body presses into you, you could feel near your ass a bulge pressing against you.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he then asks

“I haven’t” you quickly reply. He turns you around and pushes you against the door, tilting his head and staring intently

“Don’t lie to me y/n”

His serious glare makes you feel fuzzy, makes you feel warm but also angry at him. He knows very dam well why you have.

“Because Zemo, you are supposed to be a bad guy. Someone I should hate! I shouldn’t be doing thinking things of you”

He leans towards you, his lips grazing yours, “Such as?”

You pause for a moment, knowing you shouldn’t step over this line, but you just can’t help it.

“Fucking you”

“Oh? Such dirty thoughts. I thought you were above such things.” Zemo purrs

“Stop teasing me!” You whine. You try to lean forward to capture his lips but he leans back, putting his finger on them.

“Ah y/n, I want you to make a promise before we get anywhere”

“What”

“Please...don’t ignore me”

You look into his eyes and for once it was like the mask he always wore, of a self-absorbed man slipped away. You were staring into the eyes of a desperately lonely man.

“I promise, but Sam and Bucky can’t know”

Zemo grins, his teeth flashing. “I won’t tell if you don’t”

His lips crash onto yours, hungrily pressing against them. You open your mouth as his tongue explores yours. His hands wander up and down your body, pressing hard against your skin. He roughly grabs your arms and pushes you over to the sink. He picks you up and places you onto it. His lips leave yours, trailing down your jaw and neck.

His fingers venture downwards as well, slipping past the hem of your trousers. He moves them down past your underwear and slips into your private parts. You gasp as his fingers graze over your clit. The feeling sending shivers through you. You can feel Zemo smirking against your skin as he leaves a hickey against your collarbone. You grasp his hair, tugging on it, making him moan into your skin.

He removes his hands from you and grasps a hold of your trousers, pulling them off. He quickly pulls down your underwear while you remove your shirt. You attempt to grasp his bathrobe, but he ducks down.

He slowly parts your thighs, trailing kisses along them as he moves closer to your core. Your legs felt like jelly, as you expected him. He chuckles looking up to you, “So needy for me” he jested before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

You chuck your head back, moaning in pleasure as warmth floods your core. Your hands grasp his hair, holding him tightly as he continues to lick and suck at your clit.

“Be careful Y/n, these rooms are not soundproof” he says, releasing his lips from you but you are beyond the point of caring. You wrap your thighs around his head, pushing back to you.

His fingers touch your core, finding it soaked where they easily slip inside. You moan at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out. He pumps them in and out of you at a rapid rate while his tongue twisted on your clit, eliciting moans out of you.

“Zemo” you gasp as you felt your limit coming. “Zemo I’m going to-” you break off, unable to finish the sentence as you finally release as you see stars.

After a few moments, you are brought back to reality as you can feel Zemo run his tongue up your core drinking you in. He pulls back from you and stands up. His eyes trailing up and down your body as you lie there recovering from your pleasure. “So beautiful” he whispers.

You reach forward, grabbing a hold of his bathrobe and tugging it down his body till he wasn’t covered anymore. He swiftly moves over to a draw, pulling out a condom wrapper. Tearing it open with his mouth, he pulls the condom out and slips it onto himself.

His hands reach out to you, wrapping them around your body, pulling him closer to you. He rests his head on your shoulder as he pushes into you. You moan loudly in his ear as you feel him enter and cling to him, dragging your nails up and down his back. He grunts as he thrusts into you. Moaning as you squeeze your legs tighter for him. He trails kisses on your shoulder, gently biting a part of your skin.

“Y/N” he breathes, pulling back from your shoulder and claiming your lips again.

He pulls back from your lips and smirks at you teasingly, “Are you going to call me daddy again?”

You flush bright red remembering that night, “Damn you” you rasp out

He chuckles, leaning back towards your ear, “I don’t mind if you do”

At that moment he hits a certain spot within you, making you cry out. “There Daddy, please” you gasp and he complies, attempting to hit the spot again within you. His hands sneak back down and rub your clit, making jolts of pleasure run through you.

You feel yourself coming to another release, making you tangle your hands in his hair. You let it all out, seeing stars. After a few more thrusts, Zemo slows down and lets out a moan.

You two stay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. Eventually, Zemo pulls back, pulling his condom off. He brushes the hair away from your face and gently places a kiss on your lips.

“You were great darling”

Tag list: @ineffablebean

Tagging who asked and showed interest in a sequel: @breakfastatlenas @prestigious-tea

#zemo #sugar daddy zemo #zemo imagine #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #tfatws #daniel brühl #mcu #marvel #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo smut #yes this is about zemo #falcon and the winter solider spoilers

[volleychumps]

« Progressive Rivalry

Omg I love your blog 🥺 could I get a scenario or one shot with iwaizumi or Sakusa (or honestly any character you’d like!) where u run into each other at every tournament and it started out as a bitter rivalry but then they got rly worried bc u got hurt and they’re like “why do I care!?” Does that make sense? Ahaha 😅

~ just why do you keep running into the guy you hate most, especially when he equally hates your guts as well?

format: One-Shot 

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi Hajime

Warning(s): swearing, slight mention of blood, enemies to lovers trope 

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

“Oh look, my best friend’s here.” 

“Fuck off.” 

A sarcastic grin tickles your lips as you place a hand over your chest, pouting mock-affectionately as the dark haired spiker wipes at his sweaty neck with a damp towel. You adjust the gym bag on your arm as the rest of your team begins to warm up, already used to this turn of events. 

“Aw, Iwa! You always manage to warm my cold, dead heart. If you have a crush on me, just say so. Are you some kind of stalker?” 

“Hah? A stalker? You wish.”  Iwaizumi stands as the red-headed one and popular brunette behind him stifle their amused laughter into their fists. “Who would like looking at your ugly mug all day?” 

The spiker’s failed attempt to intimidate you with his height had your smile widening in challenge, the insult not hurting a bit.  In fact, you lean a little closer, fake sniffing as if he had genuinely hurt your feelings. 

“Yep. I definitely want this temperamental six year old in the body of a seventeen year old to show an ounce of interest in me. How’d you know?” 

“How can I not show interest in things that perturb me?” 

“So you are interested.” You wink. “Don’t hurt your pretty little head over using words that are too complicated for your brain.” You lean around him to shoot a sweet smile to his teammates, ignoring the flash of irritation across Iwa’s face. 

“Issei, Oikawa, Hiro!” You flash a thumbs up, your pretty smile almost blinding. “You guys were cool.” 

“Y/N-chan~ you’re such an angel!” 

“Angel my ass.” 

“Oh. You’re still here.” Your voice falls dejected as Iwaizumi gains an irk mark on his forehead. Glancing back at your team, you smile and wave at the other three. “Gotta go warm up, cheer for me!” 

“Good luck!” Matsukawa calls after you, merely grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him an irritated stare. 

“Not gonna wish the love of your life a good game?” Hanamaki questions, already beginning to walk off while smirking into his water bottle as his dark-haired friend merely scoffs. The teasing from his trio of “friends”  wasn’t anything new. 

“I don’t think that thing is capable of loving.”

“Yeah yeah, you love her, we get it.” 

Iwaizumi groaned inwardly, sitting down tiredly on the bleachers to rest up as your team littered your side of the net. His jaw clenched when you offered him a lazy wave, kneeling slightly in your position as a libero. 

There were many things Iwaizumi had could say about your character or even the irritating smile on your lips at his blatant annoyance, but he couldn’t deny how well your team mixed. Oikawa whistled lowly as Hanamaki absently mentions to Matsukawa about how the other team hardly stood a chance. 

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a pit of annoyance in his gut as the boys in the stands whistled at every save you made, the pit deepening even further at the smile you cast in their direction. 

“You’ll get frown marks Iwa-Chan!” 

“Shut the hell-” 

“Oh shit! Y/N!” 

Iwaizumi’s head whips back in the direction of your match at the sound of Hanamaki’s exclamation just in time for the collision. 

And then his breath caught in his breath so abruptly he almost choked. 

You clutched your ankle, teeth biting so deep into your lip so hard Iwa swore he could see a bead of blood as you withheld an obvious wail of pain. Your teammate knelt by your side with a hand clamped over her mouth in shock, Iwa being able to make out from your teammates’ panic that someone had accidentally shoved you so hard to the side you swore you heard your ankle snap in an attempt to stabilize yourself. 

“Y/N-chan!” 

“Is she okay?” 

But Iwa wasn’t listening, all distaste for you seeming to drown out of his system as he wondered, 

wondered why the hell he cared so much about the girl who tried her hardest to get under his skin. Your witty retorts, your wide grin, the softness of your irises, and the pang in his chest every time you jokingly bumped your shoulder against his in passing- 

that same girl who’s cheeks were now shining with spilled tears causing him to rise to his feet. 

“Oi Iwaizumi, where are you going?” 

He didn’t spare a glance to your teammates as they silently made way for the wide-shouldered spiker, dark eyes assessing the damage as he bent down, swooping you up into his arms as if you hadn’t weighed a thing. He ignored the stares and wolf whistles from his team as he hurried out of the gym and in the direction of the infirmary towards the specialists who were trained for these events, heart tugging at the sound of your whimpers. 

“I’ve had dreams about this.” You mumble, eyes clenched shut as tears built up on your closed eyelids, arms wrapping around his neck tighter as you buried your face in his neck. “Please be hot, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“You’re still joking at a time like this?” Iwa’s voice cracks at the proximity, wondering why on earth his chest was pounding in his ears as your eyes shot open. Immediately, you begin to squirm, your face heating up as Iwaizumi continues his hurried stride, barely sparing you a glance. 

“You’re taking me?” 

“No.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me!” 

Iwaizumi leans his head in the opposite direction, away from the volume of your voice, but he couldn’t stop the slight tilt of amusement on the right side of his lips as you seemed distracted by the obvious pain in your ankle. Mission successful. 

He ignores your protests to set you down, frowning at your claims to wanting anyone else to have taken you. Even the brunette one.

“See, now that’s just plain insulting.” Iwa’s eyes narrow at you as he finally sets you down on one of the cots, about to walk off to find the doctor before a hand weakly tugs at the bottom of his jersey. 

“....I think they’ll come soon. Can you...just stay? Just until they come?” 

Iwaizumi blinked. Then blinked again. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, recovering from his shock before pulling up a stool and grabbing a nearby first aid kit. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his gentle touch causing your cheeks to flare up as your eyes took on a vulnerable edge. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” It was genuine curiosity, anything to alleviate the strange heaviness in his chest when he acknowledged that fact that you despised him so.

Your eyes widen at the sudden attack, wincing a little as the cotton pad dabs at your lips, soaked in alcohol. “Why do you?” 

“I don’t hate you.”

“Oh-” 

“I just think you’re annoying as hell.” 

“Well I think that not a single thought goes on behind those pretty eyes.” 

“So you think my eyes are pretty?” 

The silence is heavy as you shake your head no quickly, causing Iwa to click his tongue and scold you to stay still as he keeps his eyes trained on your-

oh god he’s looking at your lips. 

“Yes.” You’re almost whispering, shyly avoiding his widened gaze as you lean away from him.

He stumbles over his words at your direct response, unprepared for the way in which you lean a little further back, eyes nervous and not at all the sarcastic gleam he knows as he swallows back the lump in his throat. 

“Well,” and then his hand is cupping the side of your face as he tugs you closer, confusion swirling in his head as his heart surges him forward, practically mumbling against your lips in a daze before he could stop himself. 

“I think you’re prettier.” 

He wanted to smirk at how he could practically see smoke puff out of your head. 

“Even if you hate me?” 

“I’m honestly not sure I ever did.” 

The distance is closed by you, a hand coming up to run your fingers through his dark locks as his thumb strokes your cheek, lips moving feverishly together as you attempt to pull back-

If he let you go, would you go back to hating one another? 

only for him to kiss you back even harder as if he was satiating some sort of hunger, a smile growing on your lips before a shot of pain shoots through your leg, bringing you back to reality as you whine against his lips. Iwaizumi gasps, ignoring your giggles and assuring words that you’re fine, carefully laying you down on your back while elevating your ankle. 

“Y/N.” 

“First name basis? Look at us skipping all the necessary steps.” you tug your hair out of it’s knot, attempting to redo it with a hair tie between your lips as the pain in your ankle falls to a dull throb. 

“What did....are we...?”

“Does the Iwaizumi Hajime want to know if we’re a thing or not?” Your smile has his cheeks flushing, stare becoming irritated. 

“Oi. Nevermi-” 

“Yes, idiot. Now run along and fetch my things, will you?” 

He rolls his eyes at your playful wink, ensuring your injured ankle was positioned properly before beginning to exit the infirmary-

“And Iwa?”

“What is it, doll?” 

Your chest leaps at the nickname, Iwaizumi beginning to smirk at the change in expression on your face before you clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

It was one of the most sincere things you had ever said to him. 

Your unexpected boyfriend kissed you on the lips a second time after a few strides, any confusion within him seeming nonexistent as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The way you gazed up at him had his chest doing somersaults, wondering if you were both just denying the attraction you felt towards one another before fate took its turn. 

“Nah, I should be thanking you.” 

“For what?” 

“Hurting your ankle-” 

“Get out.” 

Iwa’s feeling like an idiot with the lilt to his lips when the door slides shut and something hits the door where his head would have been, the slight smile fading back to his usual scowl at the sight before him. 

His three friends had identical grins on their faces, Matsukawa holding a #1 fan balloon and Hanamaki decked out in merch from your school. He narrows his eyes at the bouquet of flowers tucked behind Oikawa’s back. All obviously from the themed store of the tournament. 

Guess he didn’t need to worry about whether or not you would enjoy his idiotic friends’ company. 

“So you're whipped. Didn’t see that one coming.” 

“Whatever.”

“Iwa, where are you going?” 

“...to go get her things.” 

“You so love her.” 

“Shut the hell up and don’t enter her room until I get back.”

It was only when the dark-haired spiker turned the corner, looking behind and in front of him before his back hits a nearby wall as he attempts to calm his heartbeat, swearing he had never felt such a wild surge of energy through his veins as his lips tingled with the taste of you. He sighs, touching the hair tie that he stole from you when he kissed you a second time from within his pocket, wondering just when his hatred melted into the exact opposite. 

He was so whipped.

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

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Hi all! How are you lovelies doing? I’m going to be on here more often, thank you for 9k and your patience with me has helped me so much! This was one of my requests that I wanted to use to slide back into the swing of things, so I hope you enjoyed! <3

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