Diner Days

Diner Days

sort of requested by @srodulvroux

The Dead Poets x reader

Trigger Warnings: some swearing

Premise: An outsiders view on your diner dates, and the speculation between staff, until an answer seems to come after one opening night.

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Deborah wasn't quite sure when she first noticed you start coming into the diner, but she soon seemed to find a routine in your visits.

You would come in just after 5, with a school bag full of books, an arm load of scripts, and what seemed like a different boy for everyday of the week.

~~

The first few times you had come in, it had been alone, and you had managed to take up an entire booth, homework spread out, back pack and coat across the other seat.

She had served you, and moved on, thinking nothing of it.

The next time she had properly noticed you, you had come in with a boy, who was all grins and excitement. There was no homework to be seen that day, nor any other day when he joined you in the diner; only scripts, and practicing of lines over meals that went barley touched.

That was when she started gossiping with one of the other waitresses, speculating on if you were dating the boy with sharp features, or if neither of you had confessed your obvious feelings yet.

Soon, coming in with the boy had become part of your routine, though sometimes you would still come in alone, and it became agreed through most of the restaurant, you two were the cutest couple that frequented the diner.

~~

That was until one day when you had come in alone, sitting in your usual booth near the front window and beginning to unpack your homework for the day.

Deborah had just finished bringing you your usual when a new boy, this one with the chaotic energy of hurricane came sweeping in, loudly joking something close to "fancy seeing you here." as he slid into the other bench, moving your things out of the way.

At first, she hadn't thought anything of it, until someone else pointed out that this boy was flirting with you even more than actor had.

The question slowly became, had you and the sharp nosed boy broken up? Or was this new boy with the loud personality something secret?

~~

Deborah only seemed to get more confused as time went by, and you began to came in different days with different boys.

Gossip between workers and other regulars seemed to go insane with each new development, even if no one was entirely sure what was going on.

There was the first boy you had come in with, with the sharp features and shining eyes, who also seemed to be an actor, and in the same production as you at Henley Hall. When he came in with you, homework remained no where to be scene, and food went untouched as you worked through scripts and discussed parts of rehearsals. This boy was certainly a number one contender amongst the gossips, who had all gotten used to him at first, and were now pulling for him.

Then there was the second boy, the one with fluffy hair and a wide grin, who was all jokes. Nights at the diner with him seemed to be with no work at all, instead just loud conversations and jokes traded over dinner. All sorts of things from your conversations were overheard, from complaints about classes at Welton, to discussions of poetry. Quite a few of the staff and regulars seemed to pick him as their number one, with how infectious his loud happy personality was.

Another boy had been seen after him, a quiet blond boy with wandering eyes and slightly shaky hands. Deborah had quietly been rooting for him, above any of the other boys, but she didn't tell anyone that. He seemed the most interesting out of all of them, but that was only because of the variety; with the others you had routines, normally hanging out in the same way every time, but with this boy it all but depended on the weather. Somedays he would help you run lines, and other days you would work on homework together, sometimes you would just get dinner together, talking about everything under the sun.

The tall, almost awkward boy was another favorite of many of the gossipers. His almost shy smiles and sunny demeanor had even gotten one of the other waitresses to begin crushing on him. Deborah had gotten her manager to switch out their sections again, because she didn't want that to get in the way of however all of this panned out. And also because the other waitress had too often almost spilled drinks over the intricate projects that covered the table on the days he joined you.

The organized, redhaired boy seemed to be the least favorite of the gossipers; which Deborah found odd, because he seemed to be one of the nicest out of the seven of them. Sure, he seemed a little stiffer than the others, at least the first few times he had come in with you, but that didn't mean everything. Usually, with him the diner was quieter than it was when you came in with the others, as you both sat, working quietly on school work, occasionally a few words passing back and forth.

There was a seemingly love sick boy too, who often came into the diner with you, hair falling into his eyes and an almost crooked grin on his face. Usually with him, time was just spent enjoying each others company and eating dinner. One particularly crochety regular, who had long ago claimed the diner as his place, only like this boy the most because he seemed to be one of the quietest.

The last boy, as far as Deborah could tell, was another redhead with unruly hair. He was bubbly, polite, and quite frankly Deborah's other favorite. You often worked on homework together, though certainly in a more chaotic way than with the other red head. With him it seemed books and notebooks covered the table again, as various topics and subjects competed for attention.

~~

The gossipers never really seemed to find an answer, as you came in with these various boys, rotating around, never in the same order.

Speculation continued, and arguments were even started over if you were just leading them all on, or constantly breaking up and getting back with each of them.

Deborah, however, found her answer, one December Night.

She had managed to switch her shift with someone else, so that she wouldn't have to come in until after the play at Henley Hall; after months and months of hearing about it, she just had to go see it.

She had come back in for her shift, at 10:30, and was relived to find the diner mostly empty; something she wasn't used to with her dinner rush shift.

Only a few minutes after she'd started, a loud group rolled in, somehow squeezing themselves in your usual booth.

As she came around the corner, Deborah looked up, and then suddenly it all made sense.

You were squashed between the unruly red head, the tall boy, and the hurricane of a boy, with all the others squeezed into the other bench, the sharp nosed boy in the middle; all talking and laughing happily.

A few bouquets of flowers littered the table, as even the stern redhead gushed about the performance of a Midsummer Nights Dream. It was like everyone was very close to everyone, not bothered by the way you barley all fit in the booth.

Oh, Deborah thought, that settles it then.

It was all of them all along.

Day 06 | Nadja x Reader x Lazslo Cravensworth 

a/n - @flufftober. Maybe ooc on account of the fluff. But this month is all about the lovey dovey ♡ and I love when Nadja and lazslo are corny anyway

prompt - candles/lanterns/fairylights

fluff - 650 words - warnings: f!reader. established relationship (polyam). implied spice.

You arch a brow as the camera crew squeezes into the kitchen first. It’s a tight fit with most of the clutter and the table between all of you, but you try your best to ignore them in favor of Lazslo filing in last. His singing could be heard from all the way upstairs. You wonder idly what’s put the vampire in such a good mood.

“My little darling. My pet!” He calls in his timbre. “Your presence is required in the boudoir.”

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at the lack of a reason. “Is this a surprise?”

“Indeed it is, now come.” You snort as he takes your hand assertively. You abandon your bowl of cereal and let him lead you out of the room with his typical flair, shooing the other humans away. They follow anyway— you suspect they already know what’s going on. 

Nadja and Lazslo’s room hasn’t changed much since you began frequenting the vampires’ residence. With the exception of some of your clothes (usually flung somewhere, forgotten), it was still very much their room. When you wanted a place to lie down, you typically went to the lounge, or posted up beside Guillermo when he was home. Needless to say- they were both very creative when it came to sharing you without a bed. But tonight, you’re floored when Lazslo pushes the door open. 

It’s hard to miss: Both their chairs have been pushed to the side in their own nook now, in favor of a large queen bed in the center of the room. It’s dressed in beddings to match their gothic tastes, save for a gaudy heart-shaped pillow set atop all the others.

But what’s more is the rest of the room’s decorations— dozens of sets of fairy lights in a cool, twinkling silver are strung throughout the room. You lean down to inspect one of the many LED lanterns, too, watching the fake flame inside flicker. 

“Ta-daaah~” Nadja sweeps her arms out from the other side of the bed with a large grin. “You should see your face! Lazslo, do you see her awe?”

“Yes my love, I’d say it was well worth our expedition to Bed, Bath, and the Beyond.”

You blink, still a little speechless as you step into the room further. “What’s all this for?”

“It is our anniversary, you silly little pumpkin.” Nadja tuts. She rounds the bed and embraces you firmly, almost lifting you off the ground. “It has been one year since Lazslo and I both lured you with our thrall to have as an evening snack. And here you are, still scrumptious. Uneaten, of course.”

You try to remember if tonight is actually the anniversary of that day, but you honestly didn’t think Lazslo and Nadja would care about that sort of thing.

In fact, you’re a little moved by the gesture. It was true enough that last October, they had tried hunting you down as you jogged Bloomingdale Park. But you could argue you’ve been devoured in many other ways since then. A flush creeps up your neck at the thought- that and at the display before you. 

The two of them stand there and wait for your reaction as the realization sets in— you really are dating the married vampire couple. It fills you up with joy— and gets your heart fluttering in a way you knew they both can sense, even from a few feet away.

“Out.” You suddenly say. You turn toward the camera and begin ushering the crew out of the room. “Out.”

Laszlo shoots you a sharp grin. “Time to break her in, my dears.” He hollers, jumping onto the mattress. Nadja claps as you finally shut the door and turn back to her. 

“That is what I am talking about, baby girl!” Nadja shrieks. Her elated glint shifts, eying you hungrily. “The memory foam will never forget this night.”

Where You Lead

Warnings: mentions of fighting, hunting, weapons and violence, drinking, hints of parental abuse and neglect, cursing, injuries and blood, gunshots wounds, mentions of death let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Ever since you first came home from the hospital, you and Dean had an unbreakable bond

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Where You Lead I Will Follow by Carole King

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Loving you the way I do

“This is your baby sister, Y/n,” This might be the first time since his mother was alive that Dean had heard his fathers voice be as soft as it was.

“Can I hold her? Please, can I hold her?” Sam begged, bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.

“Dean gets to hold her first, Sam,” John scowled slightly, “We talked about this already.”

The- now middle- Winchester sibling stopped jumping immediately and dropped his head slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, kicking his shoe slightly against the motel ground.

As gently as humanly possible, nine year old Dean gingerly held you in his arms, supporting your head the way your father had shown him before gazing at you in wonder.

You tossed and turned a little bit in the hospital blanket that was wrapped securely around you, before you blinked your eyes open slightly.

Instead of screaming and crying like he expected you to do, you just stared up at your older brother in the same amazement that he looked over you with; and that amazement soon melted into full adoration on his features.

“Is it my turn yet?” Sam whined, and John finally relented with a small huff.

The hesitation was visible on Dean's face, looking as if it pained him to pass you over to his little brother, something that escaped both Sam and John’s notice.

What John didn’t miss though, was the way his eldest son lingered near you and Sam, looking ready to spring forward at any moment and save you should Sam accidentally drop you.

“She’s fine, Dean, quit hovering.” John told his son gruffly. But for the first time in his life, the boy didn't snap at attention to scramble and do what his father had said. For the first time, he pretended as if he didn’t hear the man as he continued to stare down at you.

I know we’re gonna make it through

“I’ll be back in a couple days, don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.” John warned with a small glare before turning on his heel and exiting the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean let out a small breath, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat on Sam’s lap on the crammed couch, both of you engrossed in the cartoon before you.

It had been two years since you were born, and Dean was yet to hear his fathers voice grow soft again, even around you. In fact, John began to try and distance himself from you as much as he could.

He had once confessed to Dean when he was almost black out drunk that it was because he had a child with a woman who wasn’t Mary, and while he and Sam could remind him of his late wife, you did no such thing.

It wasn’t your fault of course, and Dean knew that. He knew that it wasn’t fair for your father to distance himself from you for something you couldn’t control, which would inevitably affect you one way or another eventually.

He walked over to the couch before plopping down onto the small cushion beside the two of you and held out his arms, “Giver ‘er here, Sammy.”

The boy did so, and you giggled slightly at being passed around. You looked up at Dean with a wide smile before turning your attention back to the screen.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched over his two siblings, both who were completely oblivious to the fact that John had only left a few cans of food in the room and a very limited amount of money without the certainty of when he would return.

He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. He was going to get you all through this, just like he always did.

And I would go to the ends of the earth

“We asked for a parent or guardian of Y/n Winchester.” The principal raised a single eyebrow as he spoke, eyeing the clearly high school level student.

“I’m her older brother,” Dean grunted with narrowed eyes, “Isn’t that good enough if our father can’t make it?”

The older man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine. We should get this started, then.” He then beckoned with his hand for you and one of your classmates to come into his office.

You shuffled in, eyes lighting up when you spotted Dean and you hurriedly squealed, rushing over and jumping into his arms, “Hey, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss in your hair.

“What is this about?” The mother of your classmate demanded, shooting daggers at you and your brother from where she sat in a chair a couple feet away.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to suspend the two of them,” The principal spoke.

A look of bewilderment came over Dean's features, “S-suspend? For what? She’s five!”

“Even so, they both must be held accountable for their actions.”

“Which was what, exactly?” He demanded, grip tightening around you protectively.

“The two of them got into a small fight and disrupted the class.” He informed him and the other mom.

“That’s outrageous!” Said mother shrieked, jumping to her feet, “My daughter would never get into a fight!”

“She hit me, I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled into Dean's ear, and he felt his anger begin to boil in his blood.

“Y/n didn’t do anything,” Dean stated, a venomous glint in his eyes as he stared down the mother and the principal.

“Oh?” The woman screeched, whirling around and pointing a finger at him, “And how did you figure that out?” She hissed.

“Because she told me she didn’t,” He said plainly.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if he just said the most idiotic thing she’d ever heard, “And how do you know you can believe her?”

Dean stood up immediately, you still clutched to his chest as he glared right back at the older woman, “Because she isn’t lying.” He told her with a dangerous tinge in his tone before simply turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shirt, “Thanks, De.” You whispered.

'Cause, darling, to me that's what you're worth

“What the hell is this?” John snapped with a glare, picking up a doll that had gently been set on the table.

Dean swallowed, eyes flitting over to your sleeping form on the bed beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily.

You hadn’t meant to, and Dean knew that. You were only eight, you hadn’t meant to wander out the store with the doll in your grip as if it was already yours and not something you had just picked up off the shelf.

He had been too preoccupied to even notice until the two of you got home, and he had sighed as he watched your eyes fill with tears and your bottom lip wobble as you stared up at him after telling you that it would have to be taken back.

Reluctantly, he had given in and decided that it wouldn’t even matter if you brought it back now, so he had said he would let you keep it this one time if you never did it again.

Of course, Dean couldn’t tell his father that, then he would be angry at you. And your older brother always did everything in his power to shield you from that side of John.

“I-I took it, sir.” Your older brother cleared his throat, glancing up at his fathers raging form, “I wanted to get her a toy to have.”

The older man let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because sh-she needs toys,” He tried to sound as confident as he could without his voice wavering again. You needed him, he would not give you up like that, “I thought she needed toys.” He was more confident this time.

John dropped the doll carelessly to the ground with a snarl, “Next time,” He seethed, “Next time I catch you pulling any of this shit, there’s gonna be consequences.”

He was talking to Dean as if he weren’t seventeen years old. As if he were still just a child.

But the boy bit his tongue and nodded his head once, visibly relaxing once his father stomped out of the room. He looked back at you and let a small sigh loose, relieved that you hadn’t woken up.

Carefully, he pulled the blankets higher on your body that had slipped down from some tossing and turning.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Dude,” Sam spoke up, glancing away from his homework for a split second to give Dean a look, “She’s fine.”

The man immediately froze, stopped tapping his foot and snapped his head over to his younger brother, “What?”

“Y/n,” The younger boy's head was already facing the textbook again, “She just went out with a couple friends. You can stop stressing out, she's fine.”

Dean hadn’t even realized that he had eagerly been staring out the motel window, awaiting your return with about as much impatience as a toddler.

“I know that,” He shot back defensively, forcing his muscles to relax from his stiff, upright sitting position and relax against the back of the chair.

Sam looked up again, eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared under his hair, “Oh? You’re not staring at the parking lot as if she didn’t just leave five minutes ago?”

“No,” Dean grumbled, sinking down and crossing his arms over his chest.

A sigh left Sam’s lips, “She’s eleven, dude. And she’s just down the road if you need to get to her.”

“Or if she needs to get to me.” He hadn’t even thought as the words slipped through his lips.

There was a pause, “Yeah… yeah, if she needs to get to you, she can easily do it.” He reassured his older brother.

Despite the clear way the words were forced out, Dean still relaxed for real when he heard them, but didn’t move away from the window as he waited for you to return.

Anywhere that you tell me to

You shuffled through the door, head hung low as you dropped your backpack with a small ‘thud’ beside the table. Sam reached out and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.

Dean looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing dinner, “Hey, sweetheart, hey Sammy-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of your defeated look and Sam’s pitying one, “What is it?” He immediately rushed out, “What’s wrong?”

You just sniffled slightly and crossed your arms over your chest, kicking at the floor.

“Sam?” He automatically turned his attention to the boy when you didn’t answer, “What’s wrong?” He demanded again.

John had just dropped the two of you off back at the motel after school before rushing off, saying that the hunt was not over even though he thought it had been.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and right as it did so, you took off towards the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you, leaving your brothers behind.

“Sam.”

“There’s this father-daughter dance going on for her grade,” He sighed, and it clicked into place right away for Dean.

“Dad couldn’t go?” He asked softly.

“He wouldn’t,” Sam corrected him angrily with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “He told her it was a waste of time.”

All at once, a blinding rage boiled up inside of Dean, one of the only times in his entire life that he was anything but scared of his father. For once, he hated the man.

His thoughts snapped back to the present though when he realized that you were still crying in the bathroom, and he immediately reeled his emotions in. You needed him more than he needed to be angry right now.

With a sigh, he crept over and gently knocked on the door after shooting a swift nod of thanks to Sam’s direction, “N/n?” He called softly, “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before the man heard a slight click of a door being unlocked, and he didn’t hesitate to rush in.

Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot in a way that made Dean's heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh, n/n,” He cooed, sinking onto the ground beside you and pulling you to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly as you cried into his shirt.

He kept whispering comforting words in your ear until you were reduced to sniffles and hiccups that were an effect of after-sobbing.

“D-dad doesn’t want to go with me,” You choked out, clutching a handful of your brother's shirt tightly.

Dean sighed, unsure of what to tell you. Of whether or not he should lie and tell you that your father really did want to go, he was just busy. But he realized that you were now old enough to see right through that.

“I’ll go with you,” As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he hadn’t even given himself a second to process it before blurting it out loud.

You reeled back and stared up at him with wide eyes, “Wha-“

“I’ll go to the father-daughter dance with you,” He shrugged, “I know I’m not dad, but at least you’ll have someone to go with.”

Slowly, a large grin broke out onto your face and you threw yourself into his arms again, squeezing tightly as you let out an excited squeal, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed, hugging you with the same amount of force, “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” Dean's eyebrows flew up in shock as the smell of alcohol filled his senses.

“Duh,” You slurred, stumbling slightly to stand upright as you made your way into the motel room, “Who else would I be? Bobby?”

“Are you… drunk?” He had to blink a couple of times to help his brain fully process what he was seeing. You, his baby sister, hardly fifteen years old, drunk out of your mind.

“Noo,” You whined, “God, get off my case.”

“Hey,” He stood up, arm wrapping around your waist automatically as you almost fell over your own feet, “Come on,” Gently, he led you over to sit down on the bed.

With a large sigh of relief, you fell onto your back and cuddled into the sheets, “Thanks, dad.” You mumbled.

Dean's eyes were practically bugging out of his head at this point. He swallowed thickly, “Y-you know I’m not dad, right?”

“Well not biololy-“ You paused with furrowed eyebrows, “Beeolog-“

“Biologically?” He filled in the missing word for you, unsure of where you were trying to go with this as he turned on his heel to get you a glass of water.

You snapped your fingers, pointing a lazy finger at him, “Bingo! You might not be my dad biologically, but you’re more of a father to me than John- John is.” Your head was nuzzling into a pillow by now.

He sputtered, practically dropping the glass before setting it down on the bedside table, “That-that’s not true.” He insisted, “You don’t think that.”

“Sober words are drunk thoughts,” You slurred before opening your eyes and pausing to think, “Wait… that’s not right…”

He sighed, picking up the water and coaxing you to sit up so he could give it to you.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dean told you softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Even after you eventually drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t do so himself. Still trying to wrap his mind around what you said. About if you actually believed your own words.

I will follow where you lead

“Dean.” You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m old enough to go on a date.”

He scowled, sinking further into his chair with his arms crossed, “I disagree,” He grumbled.

“Of course you do,” You sighed before turning back to the bathroom mirror and checking your reflection one last time before stepping out.

“Do you have your gun?” He asked automatically. And if it were anyone else, you would have laughed. But this was your eldest brother, and you knew for a fact that he was dead serious.

“I don’t think I need-“

“Do you have your gun?” He demanded again, glowering from across the room.

“Yes, yes, I have my gun.” You reassured him, lifting up your handbag of where it was resting dramatically to further your point.

Silence rang out between the two of you for a moment, having your own mini stare down, before it was his turn to sigh and stand up before striding across the room to you.

He put his hands on each of your shoulders, looking you in the eye, “I just want what’s best for you.” He told you sincerely.

Your hands went up to gently grasp onto his wrists and squeeze, “I know that, De,” You spoke softly, “But you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try,” He replied stubbornly, cracking a smile when you snorted.

Taking your hands off of his, you moved your arms to wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug.

He was just about to return it when a knock rang through the room. Your date was at the door.

Slowly, you let go and looked up at your big brother with a smile.

If you're out on the road

“Where’s Sammy when you need him?” You groaned, dropping your head into your arms that rested against the table.

“Shut it,” Dean grumbled, “I can help you just as well as he could.”

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling, “You’ve failed every math class you’ve ever been in, genius.”

“And who told you that?”

“Sam.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Dean scoffed, “Well, Sammy’s a freaking liar.”

You rose your eyebrows and placed your head in your hand, waiting as his eyes raked up and down the paper.

“Well?” You asked after a few moments.

“Well, this is hard.” He snapped back.

You threw your hands up, “That's why I asked for help!”

He seemed to ponder something for a moment before putting the paper down tentatively, “Math was always stupid anyway. I don’t think it would hurt if you didn’t do this one assignment.”

“So, you’re admitting to not knowing how to do this?”

“…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“… fine, I failed every math class I’ve ever taken.”

Feeling lonely, and so cold

“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.” Dean muttered, not knowing if he was trying to reassure you or himself more as he put so much pressure on the gas that his foot had begun to hurt.

“D-Dean-“ You muttered from the passenger seat, lulling your head to the side to try and face him.

Quickly, he shushed you, doing everything in his power not to focus solely on the crumbled up shirt you were holding against your stomach to try and apply pressure to your wound. He knew if he focused on that for longer than a couple of seconds, he would abandon his mission of getting you straight to a hospital and try to take care of it on his own.

He knew his mind would kick into a protective, frenzy overdrive and he wouldn’t allow himself to wait until he arrived at his destination.

Of course, the one day Sam wasn’t feeling well enough to join the two of you on a hunt- one that was supposed to be so simple that Dean finally- begrudgingly- allowed you to come on, you had gotten shot in the stomach.

As soon as that had happened, everything about the hunt immediately flew as far from Deans mind as humanly possible, even letting the shooter get away in his panicked state as his brain switched to autopilot mode and he scooped you up and rushed you to the car.

Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was-

A violent cough raked through your body, making your older brother visibly flinch as he pressed down harder on the pedal, even if he was already going as fast as he could.

“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” He muttered, harshly blinking away the tears that began to pool in his eye ducts.

All you have to do is call my name

“Dean?” You whispered into the darkness hesitantly.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” His eyes immediately snapped open and he flew out of the bed at your nervous tone.

He gently took ahold of each of your shoulders and blinked the sleep away from his eyes as they scanned your face through the darkness for any sign of distress.

“I-I had a nightmare…” You muttered weakly, feeling heat begin to spread to your cheeks as you averted your eyes from your elder brother.

“Oh,” He breathed out, relaxing only slightly when he realized that you were in no immediate danger, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He quickly wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest.

Your own arms snaked around him in return, burying your face in his chest and allowing him to rock both of you back and forth slightly as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Can I stay?” You whispered meekly, refusing to look him in the eyes from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

“Of course,” He answered without hesitation, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he gently led you to the bed.

As soon as you were both lying down and under the sheets, you cuddled into your older brothers chest and let out a little sigh of content, “Thank you, De.” You whispered sleepily.

“I have nightmares all the time too,” He whispered after a few moments of silence, “They got worse after you almost died on that hunt.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he spoke, and you held on just as tight in return.

“We’re okay,” He spoke comfortingly, kissing the top of your head again, “We’re okay.”

And I'll be there on the next train

“I-I need help,” You spoke shakily into the phone, wrapping your free arm tighter around yourself as you spoke.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Came Dean's determined reply.

No, ‘I told you so’. No, ‘You made this mess, you can get out of it yourself’. No, ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place’. Just your selfless, loving brother who was willing to drop everything he was doing because you had made a mistake. Because you had insisted that you could finally go on a solo hunt despite his protests and pleas. Because he had been so scared of a repeat from the last time he had allowed you to go on a hunt. And even that time you were with him, this time you wouldn’t be.

And now you were in over your head and you needed your older brother to bail you out.

“Dean?” You sniffled slightly into your phone, “I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He spoke soothingly.

In the background, you hear the car start as if he had just been sitting in it waiting for your call.

You wouldn’t be surprised. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Sam’s gonna kill us ya’know.” You spoke, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replied calmly, leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes trained solely on the Scooby-Doo episode.

“We’re supposed to be researching lore about the case,” Even though you said it, you made no effort to turn off the television and go back to work.

“You and I both know that he’ll do all of it anyway,” He reminded you, “Might as well enjoy our time instead of wasting it.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips as you softly shook your head back and forth, folding your legs underneath you and entertaining your brother by watching his favorite show with him.

Anywhere that you tell me to

“How do you mess up making toast?” You yelled over the fire alarm.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Dean's voice boomed back as he wildly jumped around with a towel while trying to fan the smoke out of the room.

Despite his protests, the alarms screeching didn't come to the halt you had hoped for. If anything, it seemed to get even louder.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens!” You scolded, “I swear, I feel like I’m the older one sometimes.”

“Just shut it and help me!” He snapped.

You sighed irritatedly, but grabbed a towel anyway and joined in on his efforts of stopping an almost inevitable fire.

It took a while- and a lot more screaming matches- before the alarm finally died down and the only thing that remained from the fire was the ringing in your ears, the faint smell of smoke, and a burnt beyond recognition piece of toast.

“Let’s… let’s not speak of this ever again.” Dean finally huffed out after catching his breath.

A wicked smile made its way onto your face at his words, “In your dreams,” You told him sinisterly.

His face dropped and he looked at you in horror, “Don’t you dare-“

“Oh, Sam,” You sang, practically dancing out of the room.

“Get back here!” The sound of thundering feet coming bounding after you made you squeal and pick up your pace.

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” You ferociously wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks when you door was knocked on, “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Dean.” You silently cursed yourself for the small crack in your voice as you spoke. Though you doubted it would even need to be there for your brother to know that something was wrong.

“I’m coming in,” He announced, waiting only a split second to see if you would protest before opening your door and immediately scanning his eyes over you to see what was the matter.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured gently, dropping down in front of where you sat on your bed once he realized you didn’t appear to be in any physical pain, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head when you were unable to speak, averting your eyes from his wide, concerned ones.

“Talk to me,” He pleaded softly. He hated when something was the matter that he didn’t know about, it absolutely killed him.

“It’s just-“ You choked out a small sob, “Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he unconsciously swiped a piece of hair from your face, “Why, what, sweetheart?”

Again, you shook your head, “I’m being so stupid-“

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Anything making you upset is not stupid. Now what’s wrong?”

“Why can’t we just have a normal life?” His heart dropped, “Why did dad have to drag us into this? We’ve lost so many people because of what we do and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore-“

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you softly, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Believe me, sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” You sniffled, pulling away and wiping your face with your sleeve.

“Still,” Tears began to form in his own eyes and he was forced to harshly blink them away, “I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this. And I am so damn sorry that you weren’t.”

“I don’t want this for you either, Dean.” You told him softly.

He smiled sadly, “I know, sweetheart, I know. But at least we have each other.”

You were finally able to smile slightly at that, “Yeah, we do. Don’t we?”

I will follow

Humming lightly to yourself, you put the finishing touches on the dish before you and stepped back with your hands on your hips, proudly smiling down at it.

“N/n!” Dean's voice echoed through the halls, “I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” You echoed back, excitedly jumping to hide the plate behind your back just in time for him to enter.

He entered with a wide smile, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s-“ He froze and eyed you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”

Unable to even attempt to hide your eagerness anymore, you leapt to the side and dramatically put your arms out to the side, “Ta da!” You guestered to the plate you had previously been hiding.

A wide grin automatically broke out onto his face as he came scurrying over to the counter with childlike excitement, “Pie?” He practically squealed, “You made me pie?”

You nodded proudly, putting your hands on your hips.

He rushed over and scooped you in a long hug, spinning you around in a way that made you giggle, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He gushed while gently setting you down, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best sister ever?” He was already taking a fork and shoveling some of it into his mouth.

“I could do with hearing it more often.” You teased.

“You’re the best sister ever!” He cheered, devouring the dessert happily.

Where you lead

The steady rocking of the car did nothing to help your tired state, nor did the music softly drifting out of the speakers and filling the small space effortlessly.

Dean's eyes flitted over to you for a quick second, “You can go to sleep, it’ll be a couple more hours until we get there.” He told you softly.

You shook your head stubbornly despite the yawn you had to bite back, “I wanna stay up with you,” You murmured, unconsciously cuddling up against the seat.

“We had a long day, just get some rest.” He insisted in the same gentle tone.

Finally, you weren’t able to hold back your exhaustion any longer and you practically melted into the cushions, “Fine,” You mumbled, “But only for a few minutes.”

He laughed lightly, reaching over with one hand and ruffling your hair playfully, “Sleep well, sleepyhead.” He teased.

“I love you, De,” You whispered, eyes already drifting shut and your head lulling to rest against the window.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr @kiyomi-uchiha777

Would you consider prompt 34 (“I thought I’d never see you again”) for a nadja/lazslo bit?

pairing: nadja x gn!human!reader

prompt: 34 - “i thought i’d never see you again.” (angst)

a/n: i wasn’t sure if you meant both of them together or just one of them, so i only did nadja cause she’s the loml. hope it’s okay 🫶🏻

NADJA

it was daytime, and you had been staying at a friends house for just a couple of nights after an outburst from nadja sent you away.

her behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the way her anger felt directly directed towards you this time— it felt a little personal.

…

“unbelievable! i have had my night and dinner ruined by a pair of donkeys and then i come home to find you have broken one of my favorite vases!”

you raise your brow, glancing over at the two shameful looking nandor and lazslo as they cowered into the living area, “i thought you said this vase was worse than looking at a bible-“

“i said none of that skatá!”

you stare at the fuming vampire in front of you, her expression contorted into a frustrated scowl. you decided to take a more gentle approach instead, “it was an accident, i can clean it up and get you a new one-“

“no, i don’t want a new one, you stupid little human! i wanted that one and now i can’t have that one anymore!”

usually the insult would fly over your head, her harsh remarks habitually being empty— towards you at least. but something about this stung, something about her tone felt a little too sincere.

you knew nadja was just taking her anger out of you. she was cranky and frustrated by her long night and her wasted struggle to get some food, but you couldn’t help but let it get to you.

you have absolutely nothing to say, nothing to defend yourself with besides the fact that you were simply a clutz.

“well? are you going to stop gaping at me like a dying whale on a beach and tell me what the fuck you’re gonna do about this?”

you don’t answer her, and it seems she misses the hurt look on your face when she rolls her eyes impatiently before stomping off to her room with a few more strings of greek curses falling from her lips.

after she’s gone, you immediately turn the other way and head for the front door, disappearing for the night.

…

of course, you weren’t planning to stay away forever— just long enough for her to let out a little steam and calm down without you around. even if you weren’t the center of her frustration, you thought it’d still be a good idea to not get your feelings hurt further more.

you would come back anyway— and thats exactly what you were doing, heading back to the vampire residence after a small goodbye and thanks to your friend. it was night time, and you had originally planned to go during the day for safety reasons, but luckily it wasn’t too far of a walk.

that, and you didn’t really wanna wait another day.

you kept an eye out for anything suspicious as you walked in silence, but it’s soon broken, and a sudden screeching of your name nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

you whip around, and calm down when you see none other than nadja speed walking towards you in a desperate pace, and you can’t help the smile that twitches your lips at her determination.

she lets out a sigh of relief when you let her engulf you in hug, her arms tightly wrapped around you, and there’s a familiar sense of comfort in her arms as you sit in the moment for a second.

she pulls back, and you can now see the worried yet relieved expression on her face as she holds yours in her hands.

“oh, honey, where have you been? i thought i’d never see you again.”

there’s a warm, tingly sensation pooling in your stomach at the realization that she missed you, yet there’s still the bitter feeling she left on your heart when you last saw her.

“you’re so lucky i happened to randomly find you while i was out hunting and not some grubby sewer rat. what on earth were you doing?”

you look down for a moment, and she oddly waits for your answer patiently. “i was.. actually heading back to the house.”

“in the middle of the night? oh you soft-brained little lamb—“ she cooes softly in contrast to her words, petting your head. “why did you leave in the first place, hmm?”

you hesitate, letting out a sigh before answering her simply enough, “you were angry at me.”

you see the realization as it flashes across her face, hints of guilt left in the creases of her worried expression.

“oh, of course i wasn’t, moráki mou. i was angry at those two stupid potatoes, nandor and lazslo.”

you nod, “i know, it just hurt a little.”

she rubs your cheeks bones softly, and you lean into her touch, “oh, i am sorry, my love. i didn’t wish to take my anger out on you. and i didn’t mean to be so harsh that it would send you away from me.”

“it’s okay.” you give her a small smile, but before you can say anything else, she tsks at you.

“it is not.” she dreads, guiding you along with her as she begins to walk forward.

“come now, i’ll make it up to you. we’ll have a great day full of activities and fun that’ll make your little head forget of all the horrible things i said.”

you couldn’t say no to that.

translations:

skatá - shit

moráki mou - my little baby

bliss [helmut zemo x reader]

summary ↠ "i would die for her. i would kill for her. either way, what bliss." - gomez addams pairing ↠ young!helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 1.8k warnings ↠ explicit language, murder a/n ↠ listen, i’m a sucker for a baby zemo doing everything he can to protect you. enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

You heard his laughter, and you knew that something was wrong.

The man was a flirt, player, and, as your friends said, “not good for you”. He was only just freshly 19 when you had met and, upon literally bumping into each other in a small cafe, you were instantly smitten. It was impossible not to be, though; he had these big brown eyes, fluffy and dark-ginger hair, and a dimpled smile that drew you in immediately. He introduced himself as “Hel” and gave you his phone number, and you were satisfied with your little interaction. It had been a while since anybody had shown interest in you like that.

He took you on a date. An unusual one, late at night, all alone on abandoned rooftops of Novi Grad, but a date nonetheless. Hel had greeted you with a smile, a red rose, and a bottle of German beer, and you had decided that you were hooked on him. The night was a bit cold and you buried yourself into his body, and he had soothed you to sleep with gentle scratching on your back. As you drifted to sleep, you remember thinking that he smelled nice and how you wouldn’t mind wearing his jacket one day.

That day came about a month later. He had come to pick you up after one of your lectures and he stood there in the rain as you had bustled out of the building. “Hurry up!” he had laughed as you raced to meet him under the umbrella. “Here, take this…” He had struggled his rain coat off and draped it around your shoulders and over your back to protect your bag, and he had quickly tapped your nose when he pulled the hood over your head.

“Thanks, Hel,” you chuckled, stepping a bit closer to him.

“I love you,” Hel told you, and you looked at him to find his gaze clear and fixed on you. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

You smiled, moved onto the tips of your toes, and kissed him. “I love you too, Hel.”

Hel’s 20th birthday was in the summer, and he invited you to meet his parents. It was a small get-together, he had told you. Just his mother, father, a few close friends, and you. He drove you, his hand fixed on your thigh the whole time, and you noticed his fingers tapping nervously. “What’s this all about?” you asked, gesturing the frantically-moving digits.

Hel had swallowed thickly, and replaced his hand on the wheel. “Nothing.”

That night, you found out who Hel truly was. Your boyfriend, the most beautiful man you had ever met, the one who knew how to dry your tears and kiss you drunk, was royalty. Baron Helmut Zemo. You had moved to Sokovia to go to university in Novi Grad and hardly recognized any of the royal family, let alone the lesser members, so it wasn’t that hard to believe that you hadn't recognized him. It was still shocking, though. What was even more hurtful than Helmut keeping it from you, though, was that he wasn’t even the one to tell you the truth; it was his cousin, Emil. He had said it and given you a smile, like he was aware that you had no idea and was intent on letting you know the secret. Your head was spinning as you excused yourself from the conversation and went to the balcony, and you found Helmut out there, smoking a cigarette and laughing at something his friend had said. “Baron?” you asked, and he turned to you so quickly that you were surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “When were you gonna tell me this?”

“I-I was planning on doing it tonight,” Helmut had said, but your senses were too muffled by anger and hurt to process much other than his words.

“You had a whole fucking year to tell me,” you said. “Are you ashamed of it? Did you think I wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?”

“No, no!” Helmut had exclaimed, and he crossed to you and took your hand in his. “That’s not it at all, mein Schatz! I didn’t want you to get hurt. This life, it’s… I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. It’s cutthroat, it’s mean, it’s-it’s not for you.”

You pulled your hand away from him and sighed. “I just can’t believe you’d keep this from me,” you said. “Me, of all people, Hel. And I find out by your fucking cousin telling me that you were on some fucking list of Hottest Bachelors or some shit like that--”

“Who?”

“What?” you asked. Helmut had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before, one of pure and potent anger, and his dark eyebrows were furrowed.

“Who told you?” he said. His back teeth were clenched-- you could hear it in his voice-- and his hand was too tight on yours.

“Emil,” you replied. “God, let go, you’re gonna leave a bruise.”

Helmut suddenly dropped your hand like it had burned him, and he instead clasped your face in his palms. “I love you, mein Schatz,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry and to hate me, but please, I can’t… I can’t live knowing that I fucked this up so spectacularly.”

You smoothed your hands up to meet his, and you tangled your fingers with his. “I’m gonna go home,” you whispered. “I don’t feel comfortable here anymore. But don’t rush, love. Enjoy your birthday. Just come by my apartment when you’re done and we can talk about this.” You reached to him and tugged him down to kiss you, and you swore that you could taste his love on his tongue. Cigarettes, champagne, and love.

You were asleep by the time Helmut came home. Rightfully so, seeing as it was nearly four o’clock. You knew that Europeans, specifically Sokovians, knew how to party, but even that was a bit much for Helmut. You knew that your neighbors would have a few choice words for you about your boyfriend coming home drunk an hour before the sun rose, but then you heard the laughter.

It was quiet at first. As you rose from bed, you hardly heard it. You thought it was your window unit AC acting up again, as it was prone to do. But then, the laughter grew. It bubbled up and grew, until it was nearly hysterical.

“Hel?” you called. You quickly stepped out of the bedroom and into the front room, and, in the darkness, you saw your boyfriend’s form sitting at the window. He was laughing. He was shaking, trembling, and you flicked on a lamp. You nearly threw up at what you saw.

Blood. Still red, still fresh. Red blood on his shirt, on his jeans, on his hands, in his hair. It wasn’t that much, but it was everywhere. His shirt, the nice white button-down that you had begged him to wear but that he had only agreed to if he could pop the top three buttons (and how were you going to say no to that?), was perhaps the most stained of all. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and you clutched his arm in fear.

“Hel!” you cried. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He was still doing that awful laugh, and it made your stomach drop. Something hadn’t happened to him; he had made something happen to someone. He had tears in his eyes and tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, and he sniffled in-between bouts of laughter. “Helmut,” you said quickly, and you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “What did you do?”

Helmut responded instantly. He threw his arms around you and pulled you into a wild kiss, clutching at your waist, ass, thighs, any part of you that he could reach. His hands were shaking as he touched you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t notice how hard you were trembling. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again,” he whispered into your mouth. “Not as long as I have breath in my lungs and a gun in my hand.”

You broke out of his grip, and you staggered to sit down before your legs gave out entirely. Gun. He had said gun. “What did you do?” you asked weakly.

Helmut came to kneel in front of you, and he nudged your knees open to slot between your thighs. “I did it for you,” he told you. “All for you, mein Schatz, just for you. See if anybody ever fucking disrespects you again.”

You pushed him away, but that wild look in his brown eyes told you that not even being a few inches apart could help you. “Was it Emil?” you whispered, and Helmut smiled as he nodded.

“So smart,” he muttered, and pulled you close and landed a firm kiss to your head. “So fucking smart, mein Schatz. You’ll be a good baroness, I know it.”

“What did you do to him?” you asked. You had almost not understood what he had said, but you caught it. Baroness. If you married him, you too would be royalty. You were conflicted anyway; Helmut Zemo had hurt someone for you. Baron Helmut Zemo had attacked his own cousin for “disrespecting” you. You wanted to condemn his actions, to cry and yell at him and break up, but a small ball of anxiety sat deep in your stomach. He did for you. He loved you so much that he would hurt someone for you.

“S’what he fucking gets,” Helmut muttered to himself. “Saying that to you, how dare he--”

“Helmut,” you said quickly. “Did you… Did you kill him?”

You felt ill as your boyfriend nodded, and you drew your knees up to your chest. “Holy shit, Hel,” you whispered, and you shoved him away when he tried to embrace you. “No, no! Stay the fuck away from me! How could you do this?”

“I love you--”

“That’s not enough!” you exclaimed. “Helmut, you killed someone, all because he was mean to me. How in the fuck do you think that’s alright?”

“It’s the least I should have done to him,” Helmut said. “I should have done more. Death is too easy for him. He does not talk to you like that, nobody talks to you like that.”

Your instincts were screaming at you to push him away and to force him out of the apartment, but a larger part of you felt safe in his presence. Even if he was bloody and maniacal, he was your Hel. The thought that he would even do something as drastic as that for something as simple as what his cousin had done was flattering. He loved you. There was no doubt about it.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Helmut looked at you, that crazed look still in his eyes. And, when he smiled, you saw blood in his mouth.

Soft Spot In The Hearts Of A Murderer

Simm!Master x Reader

Summary - The reader has a panic attack after hearing people being killed day after day on The Valiant, and The Master comforts them.

Based On This Request - Anonymous requested - “Hi! May I ask for a soft fic with The Master where they hypnotise The Reader?”

Warnings -The Year That Never Was, The Reader has a panic attack/anxiety attack, hypnotism, hypnotism without consent, canon typical violence

Word Count - 1095

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested by this lovely anon. I will link the other fics inspired by this request HERE, if you would like to read them. I hope that you enjoy!

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

For some reason, The Master allowed you to roam the halls of The Valient unaccompanied, maybe with the supervision of a guard or two, but usually, you could just go your merry way around the ship. However, you rarely ever did this. You never wanted to see what was occurring on the Earth down below, you didn’t want to see the Toclafane unleash a flurry of lasers onto Humanity, and you didn’t want to see what The Master had done to any of your friends. 

You were a coward. Or, at least, you thought that. Martha was Gods-know-where, her family were being used, and everyone aboard was being tortured and degraded, except for you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop The Master because you were so crippled with fear.

The past couple of days you have been staying in your room all instead of roaming The Valiant on occasion. You assumed that no one would notice your absence. Unbeknownst to you, though, The Master was causing hell to everyone around him whenever he didn’t see you. He constantly tried to escape the day’s plans, but apparently destroying the planet Earth and scouring it for a “fugitive” was difficult and time-consuming work. But eventually, the day was mostly over, and The Master was free to spend some time with you, just in time for dinner.

The Master made his way past random Valiant guards and security toward your room. He thought about what he would order for dinner in order to impress you, which he desperately wanted to do. He had absolutely no idea about how you were feeling or why you were absent today. But if he had been aware, he would’ve spent the entire day trying to cheer you up and make you feel special.

A gentle knock on your door startled you away from your anxious mind. You thought that you might just ignore it, as it was probably just a guard. But then there was another set of knocking, and you noticed the rhythm. Was it like that before? You couldn’t tell. And again: knock knock knock knock. You rushed to the door, worried that you had waited too long and now The Master would be upset with you. You had never seen him upset with you, but he always seemed upset when he was with someone else. He would probably be upset with you at some point, so why not now. 

You opened the door tentatively.

“Ah! Y/n, it’s lovely to finally see you.” The Master smiled at you, but his eyes looked clouded with latent rage. You cursed yourself. You should have gone out of your room today to see him. 

“I missed you today.” The Master up again when you didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise. We all have reclusive days. I just hope that I haven’t done anything wrong to worsen your mood.” The Master entered your room without asking you and instantly began looking around. He actually wasn’t trying to be intrusive, he just wanted to get to know you better. And maybe if he knew you better, then he would know the best way to get you to love him.

“No, no of course you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/n.” The Master suddenly stopped looking through the bookshelf he had gifted you, trying to see which books you have read, and he turned to face you.

“I don’t know what -”

“I know that my presence here hasn’t been the most comforting. I have destroyed your planet and terrorized your people and I have, frankly, been a right menace aboard The Valiant, especially when there are some political manoeuvres that I have to plan. All I am saying is that I would completely understand why you would hate me, Y/n.” It almost looked as if The Master’s eyes softened as he spoke, but you assumed that it was a trick of the light.

You didn’t know how to respond. You wanted to say something brave, something calling out The Master’s horrible behaviour, but nothing formed because your anxiety seemed to be controlling everything at the moment. You were too scared that this was all a trap and that The Master would kill you after you revealed your true feelings. But then a rolling thunder sounded around The Valiant.

“What was that?”

“Oh, just the evening patrol.” The Master nonchalantly responded. 

You felt your chest tighten. You immediately thought of Martha. What if this was the moment she was caught and killed? You could have done so much during your time aboard this ship, yet you did nothing. 

The Master was saying something, but you couldn’t hear him over the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears. Your breath began to quicken and heave. You suddenly felt incredibly dizzy, and the room looked like it was spinning. You tried to move to a nearby chair, but you missed the seat and stumbled onto the ground. You heard The Master calling your name, but you were unable to respond; you were far too focused on the anxiety attack you were having and the horrible thoughts circling around your mind.

“Hey. No. Don’t do that. Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart.” You shook your head ‘no’. Things did not feel fine. The Master joined you on the floor and stroked your arms and face soothingly. He hated seeing you like this. Is this how you acted when he wasn’t around? Did he cause you to be in this much pain? The Master never wanted you to hide anything from him, even your bad thoughts. The Master just wanted to comfort you and know the real you.

“Look into my eyes. Everything will be calmer in a moment.” The Master held your face softly in his hands and brushed his thumbs across your temples. You met the commanding alien's gaze tentatively. His eyes were beautiful; they were a warm brown with green specks and waves rolling through his irises. You never noticed that before.

A calm rushed over you. You were no longer plagued by the thoughts of Martha dying or that you were not being brave enough or that you were not being a good companion to The Doctor. You were so calm and relaxed in fact that you felt your body grow limper. You fell into The Master’s chest. He brought two of his fingers to your chin and gently moved your face to look at him.

“Now, tell your Master what’s wrong, sweetheart.”